Pop

“Momma Song” is clearly an important song to Benson — he spent much time onstage at his recent Governors Ball festival set in New York talking about it and how much family means to him in general — and it’s hard not to be at least a little moved by him pleading with his parents to share “memories of when you were young and when you fell in love” with him. Coming midway through American Heart, though, it’s a bit of a momentum killer, and the thick strings, piano and drums on an already-heavy chorus can make the whole thing just feel a little much for repeat listens.

The climactic ballad on American Heart is a fairly effective lost-love song — maybe more of a misplaced-love song, really — with electric piano, a late-song dynamic surge and some smart lyrical detail (“I’m glad to see your eyes ain’t changed at all/ They always looked a little greener in the fall”) helping things ever get too maudlin. But the song’s engaging verses are let down a little by a relative bland chorus, and a title that was a lot more fun in the hands of Phil Collins and One Direction.

As the second track on American Heart, “Mr. Electric Blue” kicks the album into high gear with its opening synth crescendo, driving beat and rousing vocal. But the cut is kept from being an album highlight by its somewhat confused lyric, which seems to be describing a title character who’s an odd mix of “Ziggy Stardust,” “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown” and “Mr. Blue Sky,” and never really makes its narrative purpose particularly clear. (The same could be said for the song’s fun-but-overstuffed music video, which spends so much time winking it starts to look like an involuntary twitch.)

With a shuffling beat, zooming guitar and panted backing vocals, “Wanted Man” reaches a strutting pop-rock groove reminiscent of Adam Lambert — which is a pretty strong musical pocket for Boone’s skills. The chorus sentiment of “You’re making me feel like I’m wanted/ You’re making me feel like a wanted man” could maybe use a little extra seasoning, but the neo-glam nonsense of the verses is a much better match: “Two eyes like revolver machines/ Baby, emulate the weapons at me.”

“You stole my American heart” is a straight-faced statement that could understandably draw eye rolls from Benson Boone skeptics, but by the end of the album, he’s pretty well earned it — particularly because the song’s piano-led heartbeat keeps the blood pumping throughout, and because as always with Boone, he sings it like he means it. It also helps that the song’s verses hit on a real young-adult panic that transcends the song’s framework of obvious singifiers: “You and I, we’re living in some crazy times/ And I get so scared we’ll never make it through our 20s/ And we’ll lose it all for nothing.”

The most successfully sensual of Benson Boone’s handful of musical come-ons on American Heart, “I Wanna Be the One You Call” persuades with early-’10s indie guitar, racing drums, a well-timed key change and yes, more panting backing vocals. Highlights include the pause in “I wanna be the name you scream/ When you need… anything” and the way Boone leans into his “I just need your nummmmmmber” insistence, before following with the quasi-punchline, “…if you have a phone.”

The drums slow without relaxing on “Reminds Me of You,” which trades in the album’s usual Killers-inspired synths for more of a Mac DeMarco glow, with impressively alluring results. Meanwhile, the lyrics are some of the album’s best, as Boone revisits a well-trodden lyrical concept with vivid-enough detail (““A box of written letters on my nightstand with a Polaroid picture of your chest/ When I’m driving my car to the overlook spots/ I can smell your perfume in the vents”) for you not to mind. And a late-bridge “stop” before the song kicks back in? Never a bad idea.

The lead single that made it clear that Boone’s pop ambitions had multiplied for album two, “Sorry I’m Here for Someone Else” has nearly enough going on in its explosive production and twisting structure to evoke the late great Brian Wilson. It falls a bit short of the latter’s peak perfectionism by ending a chorus too early, and letting a little too much momentum seep out with its early stop-start dynamics — but then again, unlikely Wilson would ever have been bold enough to include a verse with him singing multiple “Brian, don’t do it!” pleas to himself.

Underwater synths, harmonized la-las, gently loping bass, a propulsive kick-snare beat and yes, one more time with the panting backup vocals — “Man in Me” is irresistible even before Benson Boone enters. But he takes the most pulsing song on American Dream to the next level on the chorus, with purposefully overdramatic betrayal lyrics (“You really made me bleed/ Blood on these ivory keys/ You killed the only part of me I ever liked”) that he’s clearly having too much fun delivering for you to really take to heart. It’s like a more committed “As It Was,” and an obvious choice for the album’s next single.

It may never get as big as “Beautiful Things,” but it’s hard to argue that “Mystical Magical” doesn’t feel like the definitive Benson Boone single at this point. It’s the perfect balance between Boone’s straight-faced pop songcraft and his more fantastical impulses: “Moonbeam ice cream” may understandably get all the pre-chorus attention, but the line works as well as it does for being followed up by the much more grounded (but equally effective) “Taking off your blue jeans/ Dancing at the movies.” By the time it lifts off into the synth-punctuated “It feels so mystical, magical” refrain, you’re willing to go wherever he takes you, whether earthbound or extraterrestrial — the surest sign of a true pop star at work.