By DEBORA SHAULIS

By DEBORA SHAULIS
ENTERTAINMENT EDITOR
Please pardon the Sopranos if they don't sing in their usual way. After all, Livia is dead.
The death last June of actress Nancy Marchand, who played the dysfunctional mob family matriarch on HBO's white-hot series "The Sopranos," colors the first few episodes of the new season which begins at 9 p.m. Sunday (with back-to-back, hourlong episodes).
"Sopranos" creator David Chase seems to be writing scripts on slow boil, as he did last year. The pace sags at various times during the first three new episodes (the third airs March 11), as Tony's attention is divided among his assorted problems.
It's Livia's passing that livens up things. Everyone knew that Livia's death would be addressed in the script. It's how she dies -- so un-"Sopranos"-like -- that gives viewers an emotional nudge.
Adding to tension: Adding tension is Janice Soprano, who defies her brother and leads mourners in a remembrance session of Livia that begins awkwardly but erupts into honest, often bitter statements.
Livia's death also leads to some meaningful conversations between Tony and his therapist, Dr. Jennifer Melfi. It's her treatment of Tony for depression that is this show's basis.
Is Livia gone for good? Only Chase knows. After Livia's death, grandson A.J. sees someone in the hallway outside his bedroom. "Grandma?" he calls out. Then again, Tony sees the late Salvatore "Big Pussy" Bonpensiero's reflection in a household mirror, so maybe someone is serving that hallucinogenic chicken vindaloo again.
Next generation: Viewers will also see more of third-generation Sopranos Meadow and A.J., as they experience the repercussions of growing up in a mob family. Meadow's story line takes off quickly, while A.J.'s plods along until the end of the third episode.
The pace may be off, but other elements of "The Sopranos" are as stylish as ever. Take, for example, Sunday's first hour. As Tony and the FBI go about their business, the soundtrack moves seamlessly between two very appropriate songs -- "Peter Gunn," from the 1950s detective show, and "Every Breath You Take," a pop hit for The Police in the early 1980s. The musical coupling is clever, meaningful and darkly funny -- everything we've come to expect from "The Sopranos."