In 2010, Austin band Spoon released their seventh studio album, Transference. It was a slight departure from the band’s signature sound, but its endearing disarray and aloofness gained the band critical acclaim and broke through to larger audiences. Coming from a band well known for its attention to detail, Transference was regarded as an intentionally crafted mess. Spoon deliberately at its most unbound; disheveled in comparison to the pristine candor of 2005’s Gimme Fiction and darker, more isolated than 2007’s illustrious, Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, but gratifying in its own way. In fact, in its two decades as a band, Spoon has yet to release a disappointing record.
After a four year hiatus, Spoon return with They Want My Soul, a praiseworthy addition to the band’s already respectable résumé. This album displays the most polished Spoon as they continue to demonstrate that simplicity does not always equal carelessness. The essence of They Want My Soul is traditional Spoon, but introducing new keyboardist (and frontman Britt Daniel’s Divine Fits bandmate), Alex Fischel into the band has given their sound some room to stretch. With their last album, Spoon were teetering on the edge of experimentation and Fischel’s fresh blood partnered with the help from outside producers was the nudge they needed.
The contrast between Transference and They Want My Soul begins and ends with the new album’s opener. Transference’s first track “Before Destruction” was ominous and drowsy; a prelude to the album’s groovy remoteness while the opener on They Want My Soul screams experimental energy. It’s The Rolling Stones momentarily, until the whopping garage rock drumming animates the bluesy guitar riffs and propels them out, ping-ponging them off of Daniels’ unmistakable rasp, “I’ve been losing sleep, just nodding/ Sleep that I wish that I’d known”, as they go. It’s an acknowledgement of the necessity of paying ones’ dues from a band that definitely has.
After “Rent I Pay” literally goes out with a bang, the glorious standout track “Inside Out” comes in like a dream. It’s the furthest from anything Spoon has bestowed upon us before, with a Dr. Dre inspired hip-hop beat, ornate keys and shimmering strings that are at a risk of sounding over-sentimental and definitely get wound up in your own heart strings. Daniel’s falsetto is vulnerable and yearning, weaving through the immaculate layers: “Time’s gone inside out/Time gets distorted when/There’s intense gravity.” Peeled apart the layers are simple and potentially unimpressive. Together, they are grandiose beyond comprehension and this is when a familiar realization sets in: they were meticulously created to be arranged with one another.
Elsewhere on the album is the endless questioning of “Do You,” with its background of “ahh-ahhs” and dotted with “do-dos”, a track that isn’t too far removed from the first half of Gimme Fiction. There’s endless inspiration- is that an homage to Queen on “Let Me Be Mine.” The buzzing synth lines are stretched from album start to finish, the static noise systematically interrupts and the sound effects interject at just the right times. Then, before you know it, you’re immersed in the swirling enchantment of the synth-pop closer, “New York Kiss.”
In a comeback, we often look for a extraordinary reinvention- perhaps this is where They Want My Soul will be overlooked. Spoon have an established sound that hasn’t changed much over the last two decades, but it has been two decades of celebrated music- tracks that have been successful in withstanding the test of time. This is a band that has a firm grasp on their success; they posses the ability to experiment and grow while refraining from being consumed in musical trends. They’re a classic. So, we won’t call They Want My Soul a comeback- we will call it a reawakening.
Rating: 4.5/5