There was once a time when Backstreet Boys were the biggest boyband on the planet, bar none. From Brisbane to Beijing, from Termonfeckin to Tokyo, the Floridian 'vocal harmonising group' conquered charts and territories like they were Caesarian Generals. Not only that, but they were pretty nifty at delivering quality pop songs that even the most ardent muso couldn't deny were catchy. Then, at the top of their game, the rot began; the tell-tale signs were the extraneous hair (facial and head), the showbiz parties, the tattoos, the slow evaporation of the squeaky-clean image. It happened with Boyzone, and with Take That, too; but, instead of calling it a day, they went on a two-year hiatus. 2005's underwhelming 'comeback' album Never Gone showcased Backstreet Boys Version 2.0: an altogether more mature and moody outfit, who - with the departure of Kevin Richardson (the tall one) - were now a quartet. Unbreakable is similarly serious fare. It's increasingly unlikely that BSB will ever bust out the co-ordinated dance moves and matching outfits again, but at least they're not resigned to the mundane stool-perching antics of Westlife et al. True, 90% of Unbreakable's content is sleek-but-samey mid-paced ballads, but there's also tentative forays into r 'n' b (One In A Million) and synth-pop (Everything But Mine). The standout track is generated via a co-writing‚ĀĄproduction credit from one-time rival JC Chasez; Treat Me Right is an understated electro-pop gem, and utilises the group's vocal interplay to admirable effect. Unbreakable is far from the perfect pop album - in fact, it's rather boring for the most part - but it does confirm that Backstreet Boys aren't quite ready for the scrap heap just yet.