Distortland, the latest release from Dandy Warhols, an alt rock band from Portland, may have artistic integrity, but what good is artistry if the album is too difficult to enjoy? Distortland is a haze of muddily mixed rock songs drowning in their self-consciously lo-fi production. The band has received praise for sticking to their artistic vision on this album, rather than pandering to listeners by churning out more pop-rock hits like 2000’s “Bohemian Like You” and 2003’s “We Used to Be Friends.” However, Distortland feels about twice as long as it needs to be, which is unfortunate for an album that runs only 34 minutes. Sticking to one’s guns is all well and good, but, to the lay-listener, Distortland is just plain boring.

The first two tracks, “Search Party” and “Semper Fidelis,” are atmospheric garage rock, a remarkably unpleasant combination of genres. The third, “Pope Reverend Jim,” has a lot going for it. The first minute and a half sound like a fun punk rock song, if somewhat overwhelmed by the loudly mixed monotone guitar. But the track continues for another two minutes without adding anything. It’s obnoxiously repetitive. In a turn for the better, “Catcher in the Rye” is the first legitimately listenable song on the album. The laidback groove verses build to an almost catchy chorus. Even the hazy production, which distracts from so many of the other songs on the album, effectively serves the relaxed sound of “Catcher in the Rye.”

The next couple of tracks, however, are a slog. “Styggo” (an acronym for “some things you gotta get over”), shoots for the same cool groove feel of “Catcher in the Rye,” but with much less success. Clocking in at 4:18, “Styggo” feels like it’s said everything it wants to by the time it finishes the first chorus at 1:17. “Give” could be a sweet, moving, contemplative song if it weren’t lost in its fog of psychedelia; the sounds are too blurred to do its songwriting justice.

The next track, “You Are Killing Me,” is a good, simple rock song with up-tempo syncopated drums and guitar, a solid verse-bridge-chorus structure, and a refreshingly angry feeling in contrast to the lethargy that dominates the rest of the album. “All the Girls in London” the following track, works in the same vein, but falls short. For all the excitement of its energetic verses, its chorus feels too anticlimactic.

After the mediocre “Doves,” Distortland ends on a disarmingly intimate note with “The Grow Up Song.” The song is understated, but it works. Because it’s so short (just 1:39) and so candid, it definitely earns its place as the last song on the album, closing with the poignant lyric, “I’ve got to admit I’m too old for this shit.”

So check out “Catcher in the Rye,” “You Are Killing Me,” and, if you’re about to graduate, “The Grow Up Song,” but don’t waste a full half hour of your life on Distortland. The album requires a lot of effort without much payoff. Most of its songs have trouble commanding a listener’s attention, and on the whole, the album drowns in its obnoxious production. Save for a handful of highlights, it seems that, in avoiding the temptation to pander to commercial success, The Dandy Warhols have eschewed almost everything that made them fun to listen to.