Every country has its own brand of radio pop that inundates the airwaves, and Italy is no exception.

Modà is yet another one of the emotionally driven, sweetly produced rock bands that has made its mark on Italian listeners and their pocketbooks.

In the early part of the 21st century, this means the group plays vaguely pop-punk influenced (with a good share of modern rock) chords with smooth pop vocals and none of the edge that even American Clear Channel-friendly bands manage to bring at times.

In terms of the Italian scene and Modà's contemporaries, there's nothing exceptional about them at all; they've just managed to pick up on the right strains of lovesick lyrics and poignant violins over passionate keyboard chords at the right time.

The words on the band's debut, Quello Che Non Ti Ho Detto, take the predictable theme of being happily/unhappily in love and discuss it predictably, without metaphor (disregarding the weary allusions to the sun or stars), talking about fragility, unbearable pain and/or happiness, running away, and eternity.

The title track, which opens the album, sets the scene for what's to come and not much changes from there: it's cheesy, dramatic, and uninspiring.

Though the songs switch from slow ballads ("Semplice," "Addormentati con Me," "Ti Sento Parte di Me") to electric guitar driven emo-inspired pop ("Regina delle Stelle," "Sogno Misfatto") there's a sameness in the tone, the chord changes, the aching voice of singer Francesco "Kekko" Silvestre that makes everything on the album blur into one painfully long piece.

The only song that breaks from the mold is the Latin-inspired, "Livin' la Vida Loca"-esque (except much less fun) "Malinconico a Metà," but it's not good enough to act as a respite; instead, its strangeness makes it feel slightly out of place and awkward.

Quello Che Non Ti Ho Detto is not deprived of all good -- there is certainly a sense of melody and composition that propels the album forward -- but it doesn't do much to make it stand out from anything around it, either, which means that after this phase ends and the Italian public starts gravitating towards whatever pulls it next, it will sit collecting dust next to other records by its nameless, long-forgotten contemporaries.