When members of earnest millionaire indie-minded bands come together on an album for which they want little or no credit, there's always the chance they accidentally have fun making it and, heads agog with the novelty, can't work out if the music is any good.

But a reviewer shouldn't read too much into Scott McCaughey's loose troupe of luminaries from REM, Wilco, the Posies, the Decemberists, the Model Rockets and the Long Winters. It might be a concept album about firearms that bounces off the Beatles' Happiness is a Warm Gun. Perhaps it's McCaughey's reflection on middle age, expressed through recycled 1960s riffs and a wash of 80s alternative ethos. Most likely, it's a group of ageing boys shaking off the pressure to reinvent rock that they subject themselves to in their day jobs.

Track one, The Rifle Called Goodbye, sounds like Ringo Starr singing Jack Kerouac: 'If happiness is warm I'll take the fur.' Next is Aw S*** Man, the garage-punk tale of a self-described 'asshole' and 'another girl that I had to love'.

Just as we're thinking this might be a grave work, Out There in the Maroon starts with 'I had six White Russians tonight, and two of them were people', which takes the sting out of lines on other tracks that might otherwise be exhibits for the prosecution: 'I never want to let you go, and that's why I bought this rope'.

The lack of continuity is about all we can rely on. Rock cuts to pop and on to country.

The Minus 5, aka The Gun Album, is a blokey jam between mates who should thank McCaughey for reminding them that pop can be taken too seriously.