Lucifer on the Sofa

It’s an album fuelled by southern heat, with plenty of grit to boot. Their best yet.

The result is Lucifer on the Sofa, Spoon's loosest, liveliest album since 2010's unruly low-fi gem Transference, which combines that LP's spontaneous spirit with the meticulous production and sharp melodic hooks of their most memorable work.

Lucifer On The Sofa is one of the band’s most focused songwriting efforts yet: Every note feels deliberately placed and well-constructed, with crisp arrangements (the piano-sprinkled ballad “My Babe”), piercing hooks (the elastic “The Devil & Mr. Jones”) and sweeping dynamics (the melodramatic, glammy art-rock waltz “Satellite”).

It's the best thing they've ever done, more than exceeding their usual quotient of fire guitars, killer choruses, and crafty rock-history updates. [Feb 2022, p.72]

"Lucifer on the Sofa" has enough endearing moments to sit comfortably in the meaty middle of the band's catalog.

The 10 tracks on Lucifer on the Sofa show off a leaner and meaner Spoon with a more mature sound that is broader in scope than past efforts but just as ferocious and cracking.

Once again, Spoon show there's still plenty of mystery left in classic sounds, and they're still experts at revealing it.

Lucifer on the Sofa is a very good Spoon album, one that borrows from They Want My Soul more than anything on Hot Thoughts, but none of that comes through until about 13 minutes in.

It's in Spoon's ability to remain so forthright while keeping their intentions a little bit hazy where their songwriting presents itself in the best light. We've never asked them to spell it out for us, especially when they're at their most direct, and that's why they continue to keep us guessing after all these years.

It’s the sound of a band in peak form who are pushing to get better, go further and resist any temptation to slack off.

Spoon display their signature style, precision and immediacy in real time, locked together through 10 taut tracks. [Mar 2022, p.36]

Singer Britt Daniel still knows less is more, though, and the tracks are lean and pared, every stab counting. [Mar 2022, p.83]

With a voice that perfectly balances grit and sugar, Daniel and band tread their indie/rock tightrope with flair. [Mar 2022, p.85]

Determined to give fans a jolly time after a five-year absence, Lucifer on the Sofa doesn’t let up and won’t change minds.

The amount of variety Daniel and company manage to pack into ten songs while still feeling cohesive is impressive. The lack of flashy personality makes Spoon easy to overlook, but as always, the songwriting and performance are top-notch.

By pairing their well-honed blues rock temerity with genuine emotional weight, Spoon continue to wring new ideas out of classic sounds without veering into gimmick, staying consistent without getting stale. By slowly introducing the idea that it's cool to care, Spoon continue to expand their comfort zone.