The solo album is the rock star’s answer to the midlife crisis. Rather than investing in that long-coveted sports car or buying a black leather jacket, aging artists leave their aging bands behind and try to go at it alone in the studio. Whip out an acoustic guitar, get some of today’s hot young artists to sing back-up on the title track and even the most washed up of artists is on his way to a comeback. Sometimes this is a success — witness the recent Jesse Malin release or Iggy Pop minus the Stooges. Other times these albums fail and sound more like Hootie without the Blowfish.

Thankfully, Ian McCulloch’s solo album Slideling falls into the former category. As the ever-cocky lead singer of ’80s post-punkers Echo & the Bunnymen, McCulloch manages to move beyond the Liverpool quintet to produce a solid independent effort.

After releasing two solo albums that failed to tempt fans or critics, McCulloch has finally gotten it right on Slideling. With help from Bunnymen fans Chris Martin and Jonny Buckland of Coldplay, who have covered “Lips Like Sugar” on various tours, the album ventures into pop rock territory without betraying McCulloch’s roots. Subtle synthesizers, soft harmonies and McCulloch’s still fantastic howl make Slideling an album that can stand alone in its own right.

In his attempt to grow up, McCulloch cannot help but dwell on the past. In the liner notes of Slideling, a photo shows the pouting singer perched on a merry-go-round. After two decades of writing dead serious lyrics, the Mac is starting to look back fondly on adolescence.

McCulloch hasn’t shed the melancholy of Ocean Rain, but he no longer has a death wish. On “Playgrounds and city parks” McCulloch reflects on the innocence of childhood and its brevity, singing: “We played around ’til it went dark / In every breath another spark was dying.” “Seasons” is equally captivating as McCulloch utters “Running out of time / It’s half past yours and mine / Forgetting more than we remember still trying to find things we left behind in Januarys to Decembers.”

McCulloch’s strength lies in his ability to write weak, undeveloped lyrics and make the words sound sincere and poignant. He could make a Celine Dion song sound touching. Some of the writing is on the brink of terrible, such as the Lou Reed inspired “Baby Hold On,” which opens with: “When your life is wrong / And your days are gone / And the Night is coming on / Baby hold on.” His brooding voice somehow elevates what could be pop-rock fluff into one of the album’s highlights. The album’s musical mastery also helps make up for lyrical weakness. Ceri James’ breathy keys add optimism to the album that even McCulloch’s highest tenor cannot match.

There are a few times, however, when McCulloch manages to get everything right lyrically, and musically.

The Chris Martin-assisted “Arthur” is a charming addition to the album, combining McCulloch’s penchant for celestial references (the moon, sky and stars all get a mention), leisurely pacing and Martin’s ringing falsetto. It is at the song’s pinnacle as Martin bursts into a wild chorus of ‘la la las’ that the album stumbles into pop greatness. McCulloch is smart enough to harness the youthful talents of the present without sacrificing his sound. “Arthur” will be as timeless ten years down the road as “The Killing Moon” is today.

“Kansas” is another classic rock gem, with McCulloch bellowing over a swinging guitar “I’m growing up / Growing into me / Knowing now where I come from / And going back to see / How going right could go so wrong.”

Yes, the Mac has finally grown up and this is an event that deserves a listen.