Among the new musical contenders vying for your attention, Stage attempts to stand out with its self-titled debut album.

The members of Stage were thrust onto the music scene at the tender age of fifteen, and they need more time to mature into the full-fledged rockers they aspire to be.

Despite several efforts at intricate sounds, “Stage” fails to distinguish itself.

Fans of bands such as Creed and Lifehouse will appreciate similar musical texture, themes, and even voices.

Lead singer Ryan Stahr’s voice eerily resembles the recent influx of alt-rock front men that all sound the same.

This Long Island foursome’s sound may seem more West Coast grunge than hipster New York, but the guys of Stage have a broader fan-base at home on the East Coast.

After opening for heavyweights Bon Jovi and KISS, Stage secured a sold-out stint at New York’s Mercury Lounge.

They even abandoned an attempt at recording their debut in Los Angeles because, in the words of Stahr, “I just didn’t feel right.” Stahr, along with bassist Petr Anselmo, drummer Justin Parker, lead guitarist Greg Meyer and producer Greg Wattenberg (most notably of Five for Fighting) decided to record in Manhattan, and the album began to take shape with the backing of Madonna’s label, Maverick.

Most of the songs are forgettable and banal, but mixed in are a few bursts of originality coming from piano and string arrangements.

Several unexpected piano chords revive “An Angel Screams from Outer Space” from Stage’s often heavy-handed guitar and drums.

Lyrics such as “I will be something, that’s all/you will be nothing at all” display the requisite angst for bands of this genre, and are reflective of the maturity of typical debut albums.

At most points it feels that Stage is accepting the status quo established by like bands and not trying to create any kind of unique product.

It’s a sense of musical déjà vu.

Stage’s tracks succeed when they venture into unmarked waters and slow down the tempos.

The dryly-titled “Live Happy, Live with Anorexia” softens the mood of the album and doesn’t slip into the template created by the rest of the songs.

“Flag” showcases gritty, less whiny textured vocals from Stahr.

By far the best effort on the album is the poignant “The Scientist’s Canvas.”

Clocking in at an unapologetically epic 11 minutes, the song takes a sinuous journey through the memory of lost love.

Unafraid of being too emotional or too bold or too anything, this is what the entire album should be.

“The Scientist’s Canvas” is “Stage’s” most highly developed song, and it runs into a passionate, hidden mini-track entitled “N.P.”

“Jesus Was a Test Tube Baby” continues the album, but it fails in the emotional aspect where “The Scientist’s Canvas” succeeded. Listeners would probably even settle for the lyrics making sense (“Science is dead/Jesus was a test tube baby”).

The album finishes in a torrid, untitled bonus track piano ballad that shouldn’t be hidden in the bowels of “Jesus Was a Test Tube Baby” and could be the sequel to “N.P.”

While a couple of the songs thrive, Stage’s self-titled debut does not.

You’re left wishing that “Stage” had taken a few more chances and had not fallen prey to the formulaic traps that tend to befall most up-and-coming artists.

For a band that fancies itself a mix of Smashing Pumpkins, retro U2 and “aggressive” Coldplay, “Stage” has built up huge expectations that it just do not measure up to.

“Stage” defines itself using the verb form of the word, meaning “to progress to a higher level.”

Maybe this album will be their jumping-off point to begin that progression.