Jim James, Conor Oberst, M. Ward and Mike Mogis: last Friday, these four stars (of a sort), now playing together under the mockingly self-important name Monsters of Folk, released their eponymous debut album. Each member is a highly established musician (or a "monster of folk") in his own right. Just to recap, Jim James is the frontman of alt-country/classic-rock outfit My Morning Jacket, who recently assumed the pseudonym Yim Yames when he released an album of acoustic George Harrison covers. His friend, Matt Ward-aka M. Ward (or, for those who love Zooey Deschanel, "Him" from She and Him)-has made a name for himself over the last five years as one of the standard-bearers of the roots/Americana revivalist trend that has emerged in the mainstream indie music world. His friend, a certain Conor Oberst, happily submerged himself in that trend and has in recent albums largely shed his identity as the prophet of tear-drenched adolescent self-pity, opting instead for a radically different image as a campfire folkie who actually likes to enjoy himself. Mike Mogis, former collaborator with Oberst in Bright Eyes, also offered his prodigious gifts as a producer and multi-instrumentalist in the service of the project.Given this enormous aggregation of talent, it would be difficult to overstate the height of expectations for the new album. So far, the critical reception has been extremely polarized-a fact that almost certainly has to do with the "supergroup" status of the band. Bright Eyes fans, for example, who chose to expect something surpassing the most inspired work of Conor Oberst, are bound to be disappointed. On the other hand, anyone who takes the project with a grain of salt-that is to say, recognizes that this was more a chance for these musicians to have fun together in the studio than it was a chance for them to put concentrated effort toward something monumental-will probably enjoy it.

The record is in some ways every bit what one would expect: unchallenging (though certainly not boring), tuneful and poppy. The one major surprise is the first track, titled "Dear God (Sincerely M.O.F.)," a highly produced (thus not very "folk") set of theological musings sung to a hip-hop beat. Opener aside, the album consists of a consistent blend of folk, gospel, country, blues and straight-up rock. There are highlights, of course. When M. Ward takes the lead with a bedtime folk ballad, "Sandman, the Brakeman and Me," a reverberant Johnny Mathis-esque background chorus, like a faded postcard, evokes a sense of 1950s America. Mogis' sweet pedal-steel riffs on "The Right Place" coupled with alcoholic ragtime piano, are on par with the best instrumental moments on the 2005 Bright Eyes album I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning. Oberst tends to crowd out the other performers, but his gifts as a singer-songwriter are confirmed by "Temazcal." And though he seems to have held back the most, Jim James gives a rousing peek at his vocal capabilities in "Losin Yo Head."

But the songs in which all three singers share the microphone present the most memorable moments of the album. On "Baby Boomer"-which is, by the way, a tune that is guaranteed to stay in your head all week-James, Ward and Oberst trade lyrics and guitar licks to magical effect. You can almost hear the smiles in the room as they sing together, "And I will die a happy man 'cause I did the best that I could do." This moment, with its combination of competitive and collaborative dynamics, seemingly bears out the promise of the "supergroup" idea. Each voice retains its distinctive personality, but all three flow together in unison without discord or discomfort.

If Monsters of Folk contains too many forgettable moments, too many songs that will go straight into the dustbin, the album certainly has its gems. Given that these four excellent musicians teamed up for a short series of hasty recording sessions, who knows what a more focused, long-term effort might yield?