Review Summary: The closer they get, the farther they have to go.
When it comes to artists shifting their musical focus, I’ve always considered it imperative to assess their reasons for trying something different and what they hope to achieve with their newfound direction. Creative stagnation is rarely a positive for a band’s resume, but wading in waters too deep without knowing how to swim is just as rarely a good decision. In their short career, L.A.-based indie pop darlings Local Natives have already been no stranger to successful evolution. While their spunky, upbeat, debut
Gorilla Manor produced hit after hit with sweeping vocal harmonies, instantaneous hooks, and fabulous percussion work, a close death and internal turmoil directed the group’s inspiration inward for their follow-up
Hummingbird. A completely different affair, that album adapted to the members’ more somber headspace with its moody synths, hazy atmosphere, and more poignant lyrical concerns. Expanding their sound without sacrificing their authenticity or appeal,
Hummingbird felt like a cohesive whole with a singular (albeit temporary) vision, impressing, but leaving the question open as to where the band would venture once the fog cleared.
It’s understandable then that during
Sunlit Youth’s writing process, the quintet traveled around; recording sessions took place on trips to Thailand and Nicaragua in addition to their native Los Angeles. There was “a lot of excitement,” said guitarist/vocalist Ryan Hahn. “[It] came from discovering how to make songs in different ways.” The band’s new direction seemed dictated by the whimsy of wanting to create something in waters previously uncharted. That much they more or less succeeded at;
Sunlit Youth is markedly different from the band’s previous records; there are far more synths and electronic beats, less guitars, and subtler vocal melodies. It’s the band’s other goal, again stated by Hahn, “to be a part of something that feels more positive and hopeful” that Local Natives surprisingly falter on with
Sunlit Youth.
Lead-off tracks and early singles “Villainy” and “Past Lives” don’t showcase this issue; the album at least starts off on the right foot with two of its hookiest songs, the former one of
Sunlit Youth’s most successful attempts at dreamy synth-pop, the latter more similar to the band’s previous offerings. “Dark Days” continues the solid opening run with another immediate blend of Local Natives’ styles old and new, bolstered by guest Nina Persson’s backing vocals. The album’s closing pair of tracks also stick out; “Everything All at Once” begins as a piano-led gem that slowly crescendoes into something grander and cathartic, arguably the album’s best cut, followed by an appropriate enough closer in “Sea of Years.”
It’s the rather lengthy space in between where the band feels empty and unsatisfying; “Fountain of Youth” shows the earliest signs of weakness, awkward and dull lyric combinations (“I think we better listen to these kids.” / “We can do whatever we want.”) dragging down what’s otherwise one of the record’s better songs musically. The lyrical gaffes, also including “I have waited so long, Mrs. President / Matriarchs and Teddy Boys, play in houses on the lake,” continue through “Masters” (“Unafraid to call yourself a feminist. All the losers complaining ‘I don’t have time for this’”), a track that unfortunately suffers from one of the band’s least effective musical compositions and weakest vocal performances to date.
And although the lyrics pick back up to a less clunky standard for the remainder of the album,
Sunlit Youth’s middle portion stays kicked down in most other aspects. Take “Coins,” for instance; a beautiful, soulful blues riff starts the track off wonderfully, only to be swiftly ruined by a vocal melody that feels utterly out of place with the rest of the song, especially during the bridge. “Jellyfish” and its chiming, reflective beats are also let down by an underwhelming vocal performance, while “Ellie Alice” and “Psycho Lovers” are more palatable but drift in one ear and right back out the other. “Mother Emanuel” is able to pick the momentum back up a bit, but the music accompanying its darker lyrical subject (the 2015 Charleston, SC church shooting) barely manages to present itself with any tonal shift from the rest of the album. In broader terms, for all the talk that
Sunlit Youth would be something unprecedented, at several points it even feels like weaker re-hashes of slow, soothing cuts from the band’s back-catalog like “Cards and Quarters” or “Ceilings.” Throughout the album’s center, the overall mood is sluggish and limp, lacking refinement, and nowhere near in line with the supposed inspiration that Rice, Ayer, Hahn and co. experienced and advertised in the downtime between releases.
For far too long here, Local Natives’ new approach feels like the band settling on one specific, not particularly unique aesthetic and then drifting on autopilot, the ultimate failing for a pop act whose quality control and charm had never failed them before. After everything,
Sunlit Youth is the sound of a band confidently staring straight into the sunlight to find something life-affirming, not realizing the result is just blindness to their surroundings. Sure, there are some hits and I’d be lying if I said
Sunlit Youth ever got offensively poor, but for the first time yet, the band’s exuberance and care seem aimless and passive, at odds with the album’s whole shtick. Maybe it's a fluke and there's really nothing wrong with Sunset’s babbling men, but I’m not convinced.
