Relaxer

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.