TV On The Radio - Dear Science

Sharing a release date in the UK with Kings Of Leon’s hulking, arena-bound fourth LP, ‘Dear Science’ is a lesson in a less linear form of progression from a band originally touted around the same heady time as the Followhill clan. While the irresistible songcraft which underpinned the band’s sonic explorations circa 2006’s ‘Return To Cookie Mountain’ remains firmly in place, the sound of the band has been reined in somewhat from the expansive, swirling soundscapes and layered effects which at times seemed to be devouring the band whole. While the central hub of Tunde Adebimpe, David Andrew Sitek and Kyp Malone is still firmly in place, it seems as though Sitek has taken more of a back seat this time, or at the very least toned down his studio practices to allow his cohorts to blossom fully. Having produced all over the place in the intermittent two years since ‘Return..’ from art-rock upstarts Foals to the debut album by one Scarlett Johansson, it’s understandable. It’s also worth noting that Sitek pushed the studio trickery even further in Johansson’s case, meticulously constructing wave upon wave of sound, and perhaps this time favoured a more pared-back approach.

None of this should suggest that ‘Dear Science’ is in any way a ‘straight’ or instantaneous album, I’m glad to come baring news that the Brooklynites are still as all-embracing in their influences, and aren’t afraid to add a few new ones into the mix. The excitable drum line that opens ’Halfway Home’ mimics ’Wolf Like Me’ but instead of cascading bass and guitar lines we are greeted by a classic ’Ba ba ba ba ba’ ad-lib and some well-placed handclaps backing up the lead vocal. The band’s admiration for doo-wop harmonies is well documented, but this track takes them into the realm of ’50s rock ’n roller vocal groups. When the guitars finally kick into the track late in the day, their impact is all the more arresting. Kicking back with super-fan David Bowie has clearly rubbed off on Malone in particular, as several of the tracks he fronts explicitly mine the snaking guitars of Prince and the Ashes-era Bowie and lay it on the line that TVOTR are definitely not adverse to the funk. The first of these, ’Crying’ benefits from the charms of Sitek’s favourite afrobeat posse the Antibalas Afrobeat Orchestra whose honking horns steal the limelight from Malone’s one-word chorus. ’Dancing Choose’ sets out with a low-end rumble and a ranting Malone rapping more like Anthony Kiedis than Chuck D, although the subtler chorus and jazzy squawks salvage the track while Malone continues raging against a “counterfeit community”. It’s interesting to hear TVOTR embracing hip-hop in a way they haven’t since the ultra-rare ‘OK Calculator’ album, perhaps finally unfazed by reporters’ blasé and lazy questions about black guys playing rock.

The orchestral flourishes towards the end of the subdued, emotive ’Stork And Owl’ are in sharp contrast to the bombastic, looped string blasts of ’…Cookie Mountain’s ’I Was A Lover’, creeping up into the foreground of the track’s sonic palette rather than exploding off the mixing board. The band clearly have the ability and vision to play it both ways when it comes to introducing classical touches to the rock idiom.

After this brief interlude we’re back into the groove of ’Golden Age’, the low-slung bassline and affected vocal further accentuating the adoption of early ’80s funk stylings into the band’s musical vocabulary. Rather than sounding forced, this style is a good fit for the band where it is utilised on ’Dear Science’, although it does draw more of a line in the sand between the two lead vocalists and their chosen musical vehicles. The lush piano and string combination of the dreamy, transcendent ballad ’Family Tree’ wouldn’t sound out of place on a Sigur Ros album and act as the perfect foil to Adebimpe’s yearning vocal which is maturing and putting the Peter Gabriel comparisons, which abounded around the last album particularly, to rest.

More attitudinal, confrontational poses are struck in ‘Red Dress’ but Malone juxtaposes his public stance, “Hey jackal, fuck your war”, with acute personal observation and contemplation, “I’m scared to death that I’m living a life not worth dying for”. The fractured beats and cooing backing vocals of ’Love Dog’ hark back to past glories, although the lead vocals are pure, isolated and not muddied by swarms of instrumentation. The simple melody and echo of ’Shout Me Out’ gives way to the album’s biggest stylistic shift - the frenetic drums which kick in half way through, although they’re accompanied by intricate guitar rather than booming bass, while this added sense of urgency prevails through the fraught ’DLZ’, where the laconic backing vocal plays against the increasingly frantic Adebimpe’s obtuse warnings of “death professors” and “the dawn of the loser forever“.

The highland-toned ’Lover’s Day’ features flute and horns just straying the right side of bagpipes and is a subtle, meditative conclusion to a album which manages to be challenging while always leaving the listener feeling, three full length albums in, that they are always in safe hands.

8/10