There’s never been much to fashion in punk. Sure, throughout the years there were a few visionaries (Iggy Pop, David Bowie, Alice Cooper) who created personas that inspired some imitators. But by and large the genre has remained immensely apathetic. That is, at least until the garage-punk revival of the mid-1990s and the birth of Swedish band The Hives.

Dissatisfied with the oppressive and violent attitudes of their local music scene, the group chose to follow their now notorious motto: “Why dress down when you can dress up?” Since then, what first began as an act of rebellion against uptight locals has snowballed into even more than the gimmick for which it was originally intended.

It’s created a look and character totally unique to the band. The only problem is now with the release of their fourth record, “The Black and White Album,” The Hives have absolutely no idea what to wear.

Although audiences may not immediately come to notice the group’s lack of concise decision making, anyone with enough courage to give this entire record more than a few listens will get the point: there isn’t one. Never have The Hives sounded more confused about their own musical identity or the direction in which they plan on taking it.

But don’t get it wrong. This isn’t just some superficial complaint for an album that’s too diverse. In fact “The Black and White Album” is easily the most diverse release these Swedes have made to date. But diversity doesn’t always breed creativity. Half of this record stands as a testament to that.

Countless tracks, such as the misguided foray into Joy Division mimicry “It Won’t Be Long,” yearn desperately to break The Hives out of the same formula they’ve been using intriguingly for years. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Even singer Pelle Almqvist harmonizes this sentiment on one of the record’s few bright spots, “Try It Again,” that “the definition of madness is doing the same thing and expecting a different result.”

However, when reflecting on “The Black and White Album” it’s almost impossible not to come away thinking these guys must be insane.

What other explanation is there for tunes like “T.H.E.H.I.V.E.S.?” Surely this past-brilliant quintet didn’t set out to create one of the worst tracks to be released this year. But good intentions or otherwise, there’s still no ignoring the chorus that’s so laughable it’s depressing (see German nu-metal act Rammstein) and a vibe that sounds more at home with garden variety, top-40 garbage than the traditional bratty and rigid garage punk The Hives are known for.

And worst of all, there’s nowhere to hide. And no way of denying it. In a noble attempt to branch out, The Hives have created the same soulless, insincere and forgettable music that they’ve always presented an alternative to.

It isn’t all a complete wash, however. Tracks such as the catchy and soulful pre-punk tinged hip-shaker “Well Alright” and ’60s rock ‘n’ roll call-back of “You Dress Up For Armageddon” are so invigorating and charming they take on a life of their own. In the process, the tracks almost make up for the album’s missteps.

Even after hearing experimentation on the best of the new Hives tunes, encompassing everything from peppy punk-rock stomp ‘n’ clap hooks to crowded smoke-filled clubs of the ’60s, it’s still impossible to ignore the lingering problem with their experimentation.

Even more difficult to understand is why this kind of diligent attention was paid to mostly contrived concepts like dance-punk instead of implemented to explore more the classic rock ‘n’ roll and bare-bones aesthetics that make up the most promising aspects of their new sound.

But maybe it isn’t all that easy. It isn’t like it’s written in “Black and White.”