We’ll pop in today in the midst of the Madness to talk about the latest album from alt-J, The Dream, which is emblematic of the mood and has been on repeat a lot lately. It’s their first in five years (their last being the disappointing Relaxer from 2017) and it’s a maddening affair. At turns brilliant and others an eye rolling exasperation, it’s as head scratching and illogical as the tournament thus far, yet has nevertheless been somewhat unshakable for me.
The frustrations come from the lyrics, which are a nonsensical mashup of topics across the album’s twelve tracks. The comparisons frontman Joe Newman evokes to Adam Sandler have never been stronger than on this album, as he sings about cola (“Bane”), hot dogs (“U&ME”), cryptocurrency (“Hard Drive Gold”), and stereotypes more played out than 8 Ball jackets* (coked up actors in the cleverly named “The Actor.”) In these moments I honestly feel like I’m listening to Sandler do a bit at the Weekend Update desk with his sh#$-eating grin and acoustic guitar rather than what otherwise pretends to be a serious album.
It’s unfortunate because this inanity is balanced by some absolutely beautiful melodies and the band’s customary layering in of details (this is an amazing headphone album, particularly if you’ve had a couple), as well as some truly heartbreaking lyrics. When Newman/Sandler isn’t doing a bit and is instead speaking simply from the heart, the songs devastate. Whether it’s telling someone he’s happier when they’re gone on the song of the same name, admitting he’s coming apart a bit in “Losing my Mind,” or trying to woo a first love (or love at first sight depending on the timing) in “Powders,” it hits differently because you can tell he’s not trying to be clever or funny, he’s just being sincere.
It’s because you’re reminded the band can still do this that the other gibberish is so infuriating. (Their first two albums remain faves – 2014’s This is All Yours landed at #3 on that year’s list, while their debut An Awesome Wave landed at #4 the year prior.) Primarily because it’s so unnecessary — it takes away from the album’s other strengths and ends up serving as nothing more than a distraction. (And while you can argue songwriters since time immemorial have written about things they didn’t experience firsthand as a creative exploration of their mind and the world around them, I refuse to believe someone could be equally passionate and creatively stimulated by tales of bitcoin and drug-addicted actors as by those of unrequited love and personal loss. Stop putting up pretenses and just be real…)
“Get Better” is this dynamic distilled to a single song, starting with a quiet moment between two loved ones in bed (listening to Elliott, at that — respect…) before shifting to a shoutout to frontline COVID workers (?), that loved one being hospitalized, recovering, and ultimately dying in a car crash on the day of their release (what in the actual f#$k?!), and then shifting back to a debilitating farewell. (The use of a played back message from the departed here is so simple and powerful (and universal — who hasn’t done that before?) it’s shocking. It’s one of two times they use this trick on the album (the other being in the aforementioned “Powders”) and it’s potent both times.) This whipsawing between sincerity and stupidity is so counterproductive you just wish you could shout at them, “Knock it off, for fu#$’s sake — stop trying to be clever or arty and just be honest!”
Fortunately the positives end up outweighing these negatives overall — those knife-twisting moments of sincerity, the fantastic melodies (other highlights include the sinister house beat on the back half of “Chicago,” the “Unfinished Sympathy” vibe on “Philadelphia,” and the languid bliss of “Walk a Mile”). They’re potent and plentiful enough to overpower those annoyances — like swarms of chiggers destroying your ankles on an otherwise pristine day at the beach or stepping in a gargantuan pile of cow sh#$ while walking in verdant hills on a hike. You can’t ignore their presence or their negative impact, but hopefully by focusing on the good around them you can mute their power a bit. Give “Get Better” a spin to see for yourself:
* I legitimately saw someone walking around with an 8 Ball jacket on the other day — and not an old one, this looked like a newer, redesigned model. I sh#$ you not… “And I think to myselllllllfffff…..what a woooonderfuuuuul wooooorld…….”
We’ll close with one other album that’s been in heavy rotation lately — one whose sincerity and naked honesty verge on the uncomfortable at times, in stark juxtaposition with the above — departed singer/songwriter Jason Molina’s great Didn’t it Rain (released under the Songs: Ohia moniker), which recently turned 20. The writeup in Stereogum is a good read and does the trouble artist’s album justice, relaying how they accidentally discovered it. I had stumbled upon Molina a few years prior for the Lioness album (the title track and “Coxcomb Red” are still two faves) and remember the intensity he sang with just grabbing you without relief. I didn’t learn about his sad personal story until years later, which makes some of the struggles he sings of even more poignant in retrospect. The closing trio of “Blue” songs here have always been faves, none moreso than the last, the lovely “Blue Chicago Moon.” Give it a listen here while you read the above:
Until next time, amici…
–BS