You gotta wonder what makes Chris Daughtry sing with such anguish on Leave This Town. Did a girl break his heart? Did his grandma die? Did his dog run off and leave him for another scowling, baldheaded American Idol alum? Whatever it is, Daughtry shreds both his heart and larynx to bring you his pain on his second album of overwrought ballads. It’s easy to figure out his widespread popularity. His band plays enough crunchy riffs at room-rattling volume to draw in fans of, say, Three Days Grace. His heart-on-the-sleeve approach snags generations of women whose matronly instincts kick in the second he opens his mouth. And that Idol upbringing can’t be discounted: Millions of viewers spent valuable text minutes to keep Daughtry in the running week after week. Unless you’re Justin Guarini, even a fraction of those voters guarantees some sort of commercial success. But there’s an overwhelming cheesiness to Daughtry’s music — like it’s all being staged as a backdrop to a greeting-card ad or phone commercial. Or maybe dog food. Either way, we’re not buying. Daughtry plays the Wolstein Center (2000 Prospect Ave., 216.241.5555). Lifehouse and Cavo open at 7:30 p.m. Tickets: $29.50-$39.50. — Michael Gallucci