Relaxer

Relaxer is a special album. [Aug 2017, p.101]

Relaxer dazzles and delights the ears yet still feels like the work of a band who might have something to say, if they weren’t too precious to actually come out and say it.

They’ve created something quite distinct from their former work. In this regard, Relaxer places them firmly back on track.

On Relaxer, alt-J sound utterly, wonderfully like no one but themselves.

Great album, if not entirely relaxing.

This all-over-the-map approach makes Relaxer a bit dizzying and tough to digest at first, and yet you'll be immediately captivated and intrigued by its distinctive mix. And once you give it a few more listens, many of its varied songs will worm their way into your ears as some of this summer's best indie rock offerings.

For a record so brief, its ability to evoke scale--while still carrying the distinctive sound of the band that surprised us all with An Awesome Wave back in 2012--is testament to Alt-J’s demonstrable talents as artists.

alt-J can twist ordinary feelings into something darkly seductive and unsettling, peeling away comfortable layers of emotion until all that’s left is its raw, exposed core. Each song reveals its own slice of disturbed history, set to the band’s warped perceptions of sadness, death and lust, with cold reality as its backbone.

While it's surprisingly early in Alt-J's careers to release what is essentially their version of an acoustic album, Relaxer provides a necessary change-up that keeps the band's iconic sound from becoming a caricature of itself.

Clocking in at just under 40 minutes, the album's dizzying stylistic shifts and offbeat arrangements are rendered refreshingly palatable, and even when the band's artistic hubris is drawn front and center, as it is on the aforementioned "Hit Me Like That Snare" and a spectral, almost completely rewritten version of "House of the Rising Sun," there's usually enough craftsmanship on hand to offset the overall air of importance.

The hodgepodge feel is a shame, because at its best RELAXER is euphoric and poignant, at its worst it is frustrating and lumpy.

Relaxer is eight songs that exist as their own little worlds, tenuously connected to one another through little melodic motifs and overlapping lyrics. It is proudly, defiantly, alt-J, with barely a wink to a potential mainstream audience. It is hit and miss in both the best and worst senses of that phrase.

Fans may balk at the curveballs--Hit Me Like That Snare is a louche garage-rock foray--but they telegraph the self-assurance that doesn’t rely on overcomplication.

At times their idea-heavy songs can feel weighed down by cleverness (the Primus-y "Deadcrush"). But Alt-J can create a dark beauty that's like moonlight on an English moor.

It’s a short yet extravagant blow-out, a Heston Blumenthal banquet of an album, so consumed with its own belligerently perplexing path, it may exclude peripheral fans.

Relaxer is effectively Alt-J’s folk album: still studious and tending towards complexity, but here tempered by a rootedness that snags emotions more directly.

Alt-J enter Kid A territory. The baroque synth pop of "In Cold Blood" and the kinky rockabilly of "Hit Me Like That Snare" are their only concessions to the arena. [Jul 2017, p.25]

In its eight songs, Relaxer feels as though it covers almost as many musical moods and genres. That overload, combined with its stylistic hairpin turns, leave one feeling queasy and slightly confused, lessening the impact of its more successful cuts.

In Cold Blood follows and is excellent, with code-like vocals and a brass-funk cascade drenching a menacing chorus. Hit Me Like That Snare is alt-J flexing their nerdiness, and Deadcrush is great. The final three tracks of the record are painfully boring and terminally so.

It adds up to a disjointed, uneasy compilation of songs, with the band seemingly refusing to conform to expectation.

As their original creative well starts to run dry, Relaxer’s experimentalism suggests that Alt-J will continue to struggle with other styles.

Relaxer highlights the best and the absolute worst of Alt-J. That’s what makes it such a frustrating, and yet fascinating, listen.

Relaxer represents ambition and a willingness to take chances. The downside is that it finds the band in a state of confusion, pulled in all directions and sacrificing a sense of cohesion.

That’s the half of Relaxer that I can live with, the half that strives actively to dispel alt-J’s pretentious front and swing for the top of the charts. But then, my friends, we return to the 'House of the Rising Sun'--because here, on this wikkle precious cover version with the cyclical Leonard Cohen guitar, we’re reminded of every reason to hate the three blokes.

RELAXER shows us what remains after those quirks are dialed back: some perfectly nice, perfectly blank lads who have no idea why they are standing in front of you and even less of an idea what to say.