Lewis Taylor made his reputation—such as it is—with his second album, 2004’s Stoned, a really good psychedelic soul album. The songs on The Lost Album were supposed to precede Stoned, but since they weren’t soul and weren’t psychedelic, his label asked him to shelve them for fear of confusing his audience. The completed versions of those songs are just as confusing now—for those who know he exists—and instead of sounding like an early 1970s Marvin Gaye, he sounds like a mid-1970s Todd Rundgren. That’s not a bad thing, but those who liked Stoned will have to go through an adjustment period because the charms of the albums are in many ways so different. The common element is clearly the love of the big, lush production; instead of sounding trippy, Taylor’s music sounds indebted to Brian Wilson this time around. The Lost Album does suggest that Taylor is a pop formalist, exploring genres more than living in them, and that would be fine if he was getting more out of pop than prettiness. At some point, beauty for beauty’s sake wears thin.