(** 1/2) HELMET, “Betty” (<i> Interscope</i> )

Sludgy fuzz guitar now engulfs the precision thrashing of Helmet, a New York metal quartet that plays tight, sharp grooves with a maniacal and sometimes experimental urban edge. On the group’s third full album and second major-label release, it pulls in the reins on its formerly charged pace and slows it to a saunter. Rather than come off as one more mean outfit from the bowels of hell (yawn), Helmet delivers grooves that are more melodic than menacing.

Page Hamilton’s thin vocals--a la Ozzy in his Sabbath days--cut in and out of the grind like a wavering S.O.S. signal through stormy weather. He occasionally distorts his voice through megaphone-style effects, but his mainly unassuming tones strike few I’m-bad poses.

“Betty” loses a few points with Hamilton’s occasional monster growls, which sound like voice-overs for a cartoon villain. There also isn’t a lot of variation from song to song, making half the album enticing and the other half neutral down time.

New albums are rated on a scale of one star (poor), two stars (fair), three stars (good) and four stars (excellent).