V

Despite the otherworldly talent displayed on the album, there is an element of humanity hidden in there. By simply relaying their life story through whooshing production and swooning melodies, UMO created their most personal yet most relatable album to date.

V is a fun, water-glistening record that waves hi to the palm trees and lies down to take a sun-nap with the sleepy sand dunes. Neilson’s reclamation of his identity in the context of space, sound and story is executed beautifully and is heard with authenticity and keenness.

If V betrays decadence, it doesn’t manifest itself as sprawl or poor editing – much less a notional narrative. Its languidness is actually its charm, a direct contrast to almost anything in UMO’s fidgety catalog save “Jello And Juggernauts” from the 2011 debut.

Neilson and co. still know how to get wild — their usually-yearly “SB” EPs are filled with experiments and unchecked ambition — but for all the years of waiting, V is simply a good new album from the group. At times very good, but not with the consistency they had become increasingly known for.

It's just as easy of an album to drift off in thought to as it is to obsess over its patchwork of details and strange coloration, reaching a deeper, more thoughtful expression of the kind of bizarre beauty the band excels at.