In 2014, a shadowy song called “Faded” was released in Australia and began slithering through pitch-black hot spots from Los Angeles to Berlin. Zhu, its creator, kept his identity a mystery, which naturally piqued curiosity, but the track is interesting enough without any manufactured drama. Over spidery keys with a belly-rumbling synth bass line, Zhu thinned out his voice to a high warble and offered the battle cry of club-goers at last call across the world: “Baby, I’m wasted, all I wanna do is drive home to you/Baby, I’m faded, all I wanna do is take you downtown.” Of course it was a hit.

Since then, Zhu has revealed himself to be Steven Zhu, a 27-year-old Chinese-American who studied music business at the University of Southern California. He’s continued his formula of juxtaposing dark production with sparse lyrics sung in his breathy, high-pitched voice, but he’s also been successful when he’s ventured away from that—the star-smeared “Cocaine Model” is as bright and glittery as the sky in Joshua Tree and the jittery “Paradise Awaits” positively struts. Unfortunately, nothing so charming is found on *Generationwhy, *Zhu’s debut album, which is bloated with bland, often-awful dance music.

There are a few pleasantly innocuous tracks to be found. “In the Morning” is a good companion piece to “Faded;” “Cold Blooded” settles into a loungey groove, and the skittery “Electrify Me” holds a few surprises, suddenly opening up to a billowy sonic expanse. The title track, the album’s poppiest and most radio-friendly, is catchy enough, although Zhu’s wispy, delicate-winged vocals—which so often have flitted perfectly across his gauzier songs—sound flimsy. No surprise that Generationwhy’s final song, a bonus track titled “Working for It,” bodies the rest of the album—Skrillex and THEY. assist. As usual, Skrillex strides in all business, and his deft, decisive additions, combined with THEY.’s earthy vocals, are grounding. Still, it’s the kind of song you hope ends before your roll kicks in.

The rest of the album is a blend of insipid lyrics, faded vocals that quickly grow irritating, and self-parodying thirdhand ’80s nostalgia: The police sirens and tortured guitar riffs of “Palm of My Hand” could either soundtrack Crockett and Tubbs’ anguish at letting a coke kingpin escape or at having spilled ketchup on their linen blazers when their speedboat hits a wave. “Secret Weapon” might also be mistaken for parody if it weren’t so earnest: Lyrics like “You’re my secret weapon, my sexy piece of heaven/Girl you make me better, I swear we’ll be together” are one thing, but then Zhu lets loose a majestically corny electric guitar solo, and uncontrollable giggling becomes unavoidable.

Yet those pale in comparison to “Money.” Taken together, the pitched squealing, the sax solo, and the fake-deep chorus of “Moneyyyyyy! No I don’t need no moneyyyyyy! I mean, it’s just moneyyyyy! And it don’t mean nothin’ without you” are almost physically repulsive. Then, in “One Minute to Midnight,” plucking an acoustic guitar, Zhu sings, “All you needa know baby girl I’m drunk … tell me if you came to party, tell me or you got somebody,” in what must be the worst Aaliyah flip of all time.

Maya Angelou (and a sax) opens the album: “Everyone in the world has gone to bed one night or another with fear or pain or loss or disappointment. Yet each of us has awakened arisen. It’s amazing, wherever that abides in the human being, there is the nobleness of the human spirit.” If that lofty intro is an indication, perhaps Zhu was attempting to make an album that explored the emptiness of nightlife and the salvation many find in music. But as it stands, Generationwhy should’ve just been named* Why. *