‘Tis the season for good sophomore albums. Much like the Local Natives of last week, lo-fi/psychedelic rock trio Unknown Mortal Orchestra proves itself this week as a serious contender within the indie landscape, with an effective and mature second effort plainly entitled II.
The simple title befits an album of such subtle class and instrumentation. A relatively quiet, thoroughly thoughtful record, II is a piece of work that earns your attention rather than reaching out and grabbing it.
Though UMO generated its first “hit” (at least, within indie circles) with the catchy-as-hell white-boy R&B stylings of “How Can You Luv Me,” II focuses more on developing UMO’s psychedelic side, a genre that its members appear exceedingly competent at molding and using to their particular ends.
The sound is not unlike that used by Aussie indie-psych champion Tame Impala, although where Impala generates a psychedelic wash with broad effects and sonic landscapes, UMO employs a more stripped-down approach. The focus here, more than anything else, is on the songwriting, which consists of relatively abstract lyrics, tightly coiled guitar parts, occasional vocal harmonies and a limber rhythm section, all doused in a distinctive lo-fi buzz.
Much in the vein of Impala’s rather introspective thematic focus on Innerspeaker and Lonerism, II begins with a couple soft, elegant statements on solitude and loneliness.
Opener “From the Sun,” which starts off with a gorgeous acoustic guitar riff, gives way to a graceful hook: “Isolation can put a gun in your hand / If you need to, you can get away from the sun.” It’s an intriguing, effective thematic juxtaposition within a song so warm and inviting, and lead singer Ruban Nielson’s faultless delivery helps keep the momentum up even amidst the lyrical repetition.
Second track “Swim And Sleep (Like a Shark),” despite moving with a steady, pleasant energy, maintains this dark lyrical focus, with Nielson stating: “I wish I could swim and sleep like a shark does / I’d fall to the bottom and hide until the end of time.”
Many of the lyrics on this record adopt this tone. The album’s one foray into UMO’s R&B tendencies, the fantastic single “So Good At Being in Trouble,” is probably the most overt, lyrically simple song on here, as it focuses on love and loss and a girl who was “so good at being in trouble, but so bad at being in love.” Generally, though, II’s lyrics fit into this category of subtle, at times abstract observations about the outside world, and the struggle of simply trying to find one’s place within it.
The instrumentation, again, can generally be traced to ‘60s and ‘70s psychedelic rock of which UMO are clearly avid students. Whether turning it up a notch and adding elements of funk, as the group does on “One At A Time,” or keeping it more traditional as on the seven-minute slow-burner “Monki,” UMO’s instrumentalists do a fantastic job of generating a laid-back, summery mood. Don’t let the lo-fi production on this thing fool you—there are moments of consummate musicianship on here, and UMO deserves credit for making complex arrangements sound simple.
The drawback to this approach, however, is that UMO never manages to blow the listener away. The focus is so much on the groove, and the aesthetic so stripped down, that even after repeated listens you may still struggle to point to one moment that truly stands out. As an album, II is absolutely better than the sum of its parts, but as a result, none of the individual parts seem all that memorable and it may leave you wanting more.
That being said, II is still an accomplished piece of work from one of indie’s more intriguing young groups. With restraint, subtlety and thoughtfulness as its greatest assets, this is an album of the utmost class and elegance. The boys of Unknown Mortal Orchestra may not get your love, but with II, they’ll certainly earn your respect.
