IN REVIEW: Spoon - "They Want My Soul"

Spoon have long been considered one of modern rock's most consistent purveyors of quality records; in fact, they put themselves in a fairly unique position with their previous studio album, 2010's Transference. That was a record that was actually quite good, but had the misfortune of following a string of four utterly fantastic Spoon records, which cast an unfairly critical pall on it. It was a gold nugget among diamonds, a record that didn't sound like a failure but kind of felt like one (albeit a minor one).

Now, coming off their longest break between records, Spoon are back with a new record deal and another batch of effortlessly catchy songs on eighth LP They Want My Soul. It maintains the air of cool that Spoon has always had even while knowingly veering toward the mainstream, sanding off a few rough edges and opting for bigger hooks and less quirk. You can hear it throughout the record, but especially in the unabashed sunniness of official lead single Do You. As bids for accessibility go, it's kind of blatant, even if it is masterfully executed. They haven't penned a song this wholly enjoyable since The Underdog; it might be screaming for radio play, but it absolutely deserves it. You can't be mad at that.

That's not to say that there isn't any heaviness or weirdness on display, as evidenced by the eerie, noisy undertones of Knock Knock Knock or the muscular jangle of opening track Rent I Pay. However, even the album's oddest and riskiest moments are hardly odd or risky at all compared to, say, The Ghost Of You Lingers. There's far less experimentation and far more ear candy, from the soulful groove of Inside Out to the pulsing QOTSA-lite rocker Rainy Taxi to the jangly cover of Ann-Margaret by way of the Beatles golden oldie I Just Don't Understand to the ethereal arena rock of Let Me Be Mine.

All of this is to say They Want My Soul is very much a Spoon record, and a great one at that, albeit one with a bigger sound. This bigger sound is, unfortunately, the root of the nagging problem I have with this record; in another case of "I can't believe we just keep accepting this", co-producer Dave Fridmann brings his "professional" trademark of needlessly loud production and/or mastering to much of the album, sucking away the dynamic range of songs and punishing ears by mixing everything "in the red" whether the song calls for it or not. It's a tactic better suited to bands who get by less on talent and more on noise (like, say, The Flaming Lips). The problem is, Spoon is the kind of band whose songs benefit from a little breathing room; take a good, close listen to Rent I Pay and try to imagine how much better it would sound if the bass and kick drum weren't shitting all over the rest of the music. Thankfully, it's not as bad as Rent I Pay all the way through, but it's noticeable enough to take away from the enjoyment of an otherwise great album. It's a disservice to the band and their fans, and it still boggles my mind that the majority either doesn't care about the quality they're not getting or actually prefers it this way. It's the audio equivalent of me TYPING IN ALL CAPS FOR AN ENTIRE REVIEW. IF I DID THAT, YOU'D PROBABLY CHASTISE ME IN THE COMMENTS SECTION FOR YELLING, TELLING ME TO TYPE IT PROPERLY BECAUSE IT MAKES IT LOOK LIKE I'M SHOUTING EVERYTHING I SAY AND YOU DON'T ENJOY READING THINGS THAT LOOK LIKE THAT. THAT'S HOW I FEEL ABOUT ALL OF THESE ALBUMS BEING RUINED BY LOUD PRODUCTION AND MASTERING.

I don't want to dwell on the negative and/or sound like the old man shaking his cane from the stoop, so I'll wrap this up by trying to judge the record on its overall feeling. As Spoon albums go, They Want My Soul doesn't have the visceral bliss of Girls Can Tell, nor the sense of adventure found on Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga. What is does have is hooks: BIG, LOUD HOOKS.

August 5, 2014 • Loma Vista

Highlights Inside Out • Do You • Let Me Be Mine