The title suggests our singer/songwriter can't be confined to any one lane -- that his mind moves so fast, it doesn't run on one track but nine.

For all this bluster, Charlie Puth essentially has two modes on his 2016 debut: balladeer and song-and-dance man.

If the latter doesn't surface as often as the former, it nevertheless rules the roost on Nine Track Mind because in the bottom of his heart, Puth is a music theater kid chomping at the bit to put on a snazzy show.

He keeps things a little subdued -- his schtick is that he's sensitive, feeling everything a little bit too deeply, even the death of Paul Walker, as he did on the Fast and Furious hit "See You Again," where he tackled the weepier elements Wiz Khalifa dared not touch.

That's the single that put Puth on the charts and he followed it by pairing with Meghan Trainor on "Marvin Gaye," a song that suggested neither singer ever heard Gaye nor Motown but were inordinately fond of Glee.

A common thread in these singles? Puth was the second banana, happily ceding the spotlight to another act who bowls him over with charisma, a situation that happens yet again on "We Don't Talk Anymore," where the pretty plainness of Selena Gomez seems as brassy as Ariana Grande when compared to Puth's manicured sincerity.

Vulnerability is often an asset to singers, particularly in matters concerning love, but Puth's problem is that he feels stage-managed; you can sense him hitting his marks.

This isn't merely a problem in the performance.

Such fussiness extends to his compositions, which seem to mimic the idea of genuine emotions instead of delivering them, something that would be infuriating if Puth didn't just disappear into his immaculate surroundings, a fading ghost on his own album.