In the wise words of hip-hop duo OutKast, “Y’all don’t want to hear me, you just want to dance.”
Some of the most bleak songwriting in history is paired with deceivingly upbeat music. Take OutKast’s “Hey Ya!” as an example. OutKast knows that the average listener will not care what the lyrics say as long as they sound nice. That opportunity to escape lyrical restriction was initially what Unknown Mortal Orchestra’s singer, songwriter and guitarist Ruban Nielson aimed for in the band’s newest double album, “V,” which was released on March 17.
As disclosed in an Apple Music review, instead “V” intertwines “happy and sad” as a product of Nielson’s deep dive into looming family nostalgia and trauma in Hawaii, his mother’s birthplace and terminally ill uncle’s home. Unknown Mortal Orchestra’s previous spunky, experimental albums “IC-01 Hanoi” (2018) and “Sex & Food” (2018) starkly contrast with the new project. “IC-01 Hanoi” is entirely instrumental with a penchant for dynamic sound. Each song title has an assigned number, and their genres vary wildly, ranging from hard rock to just flute playing. “Sex & Food” boasts loud and audacious music. “V,” on the other hand, exploring the world of R&B and reggae, might be the band’s most subdued and low-energy album yet.
Courtesy of Jagjaguwar
Upon initially listening to “V,” one might say that its tracklist emanates the sort of breezy, beachside indie music that complements a car ride with the windows rolled down. The song titles alone connote this summertime feeling with names like “The Garden,” “The Beach” and “Keaukaha.” Nielson’s fuzzy soft voice whispers over groovy guitar chords and bass, emblematic of Unknown Mortal Orchestra’s sound. The singing is so quiet that it is challenging to discern most of the words, letting the listener drift along the gentle and repetitive sway of the music.
However, a peek at any given song’s lyrics shows a deeply intimate view into Nielson’s mind. Every track in “V” holds so much sentimentality that it feels almost invasive to listen.
“V” begins with “The Garden,” introduced by quiet piano notes that carry a sweet melancholy before warming into guitar lines. The chorus warns, “Hold on tight / ‘Cause it’s violent after dark in the garden.” The mysterious air holds through the faint R&B of “Guilty Pleasures” and onto “Meshuggah,” somber and haunted in its first few seconds until it settles into funky bass and piano. These first few songs convey temptation in love: “Darling only know / You give meshuggah.”
The sentimental side of “V” starts to appear in the fourth track, “The Widow.” The instrumental track experiments with rhythm, synth and piano, accompanied by the sounds of a saxophone, chirping birds and giggling children in its gradual descent toward a pensive closing. Regret creeps into “In the Rear View” with Nielson’s wistful and conflicted vocals for a love lost: “Do you ever look back at me / In the rear view? … I was your favorite, nothing is sacred / All is fair in love.”
Unknown Mortal Orchestra keeps the listening experience fresh by pumping up the energy through a faster tempo and an upbeat guitar in “That Life.” Playful lyrics frame Nielson’s time in Palm Springs, Calif. in the strange and uncanny light of Hieronymus Bosch’s painting “The Garden of Earthly Delights.” The album’s sensation transitions back into sentimentality in “Layla,” an ode to Nielson’s mom and maternal uncle and their upbringing in Hawaii. “Layla” is reggae-flavored, sweetening up with the somewhat hopeful, willful riff of a guitar before falling into a sad, almost menacing synth as Nielson asks, “Let’s get outta this broken place / Lay low, Layla / Let’s get out of this town.”
If that has not hit close to home, maybe “Weekend Run” will instead. Indulgence in life and all things wonderful suddenly become possible once the weekend comes. After squeezing out all that life can offer in those two days, weekdays sound monotonous and subdued. “Watchin’ all the days passin’ by” then brighten in tone as soon as Saturday comes back around.
The most personal section of “V” — the last four songs — begins with “Nadja,” a gloomy heartbroken track that speaks of longing — the kind that leads to eating “a strand of … hair” from a love long gone. In “Keaukaha,” the echoes of a single guitar and dragging synth feel dark, as if submerged in the isolation of the deep sea. Perhaps this ties in well to Nielson’s thoughts on the “heavy” nature of his mother’s home, so much that his time there was “impossible to enjoy 100 percent.” In line with Nielson’s Hawaiian roots, “V” continues on with “I Killed Captain Cook,” his own spin on slack-key and hapa haole music and the slaying of British explorer Captain James Cook allegedly at the hands of Hawaiian chief Ke Ali‘i Nui ‘o Kalaniʻöpuʻu. The vocals shed their familiar fuzziness and the acoustic guitar warms with a hint of despair: “Although the man lay dead on the sand / Darkness had not lifted there.”
“V” closes with the instrumental “Drag,” familiar in its groovy guitar riffs. Its sunny “doo-doo-doo”s return back to the indulgent groove that starts the album, a proper end to the journey.
If you want to have a chill afternoon filled with tunes or create the perfect environment to wallow in summer depression, consider putting on Unknown Mortal Orchestra’s “V.” Just like the jaguar on the album cover, the songs may pounce when least expected.
