Alt-J - The Dream review: still super-clever, but a bit forgettable

The Mercury winners remain easy to admire but harder to fall in love with
George Muncey
David Smyth11 February 2022

After almost a decade of releasing music, Alt-J remain in the enviably small category of bands who get to have it both ways: indie credibility, sounding as weird as they like, but still capable of filling huge venues on both sides of the Atlantic. The Leeds-formed trio have done this without ever having what could be classed as a genuine hit song, though their loudest moment, Left Hand Free, has proved a regular provider of spiky atmosphere on film and TV. Winners of the Mercury Prize for their debut album, An Awesome Wave, in 2012, much of their material can have a Mercury quality in that it’s easy to admire but a bit harder to fall in love with.

In the past year, Glass Animals have demonstrated what can happen when you add straightforward catchiness to the quirky indie electronic thing. That group’s song Heat Waves has slowly become a global smash, recently passing a billion Spotify streams. Alt-J sound like they’re possibly hoping for something similar when Hard Drive Gold arrives three songs in. Its galloping bassline, Joe Newman’s wild yelp, “Fire!”, a freewheeling organ solo and the growing excitement of the key line: “Don’t be afraid to make, to make money, boy,” sounds perfectly primed to accompany a wealth of cash-flaunting TikTok videos. Yes, it is about cryptocurrency.

At its best, their fourth album suits its title. Songs can leave you in a surreal daze, unsure what just happened. Did Newman really just sing about buying a “round of kimonos” and declare that “Happiness is between two buns” on U&ME, the other sunniest moment? Where did that opera singer on Philadelphia come from? And who decided that Walk a Mile should open with a barbershop quartet?

At its worst, however, it also suits its title. A fair chunk of its sluggish second half is forgotten almost instantly. Losing My Mind drifts along without making any real impact. Walk a Mile is six-and-a-half minutes long but feels like it drags on for much longer.

Nevertheless, aside from the grieving ballad Get Better, The Dream is rarely straightforward. The Actor has a synth line that sounds distant and cavernous, well suited to its seedy tale of a Hollywood cocaine dealer. Newman’s singing style is less mannered and creepy than it once was, though he clearly enjoys smothering it in various effects on Bane. Yet too often the songs are impressively clever without really sticking.

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