While “Dog’s Mind” does pull the pace right back down, much of the rest of the album from here on makes for an enjoyable listen, with some clear highlights in the latter half of the tracklist. The album doesn’t really click for me until “Every Day Is A Miracle”, a quirky, bouncy, striking track that immediately proves more distinctive than the tracks it follows. This does also lend itself to occasional missteps, however, and while I’m not affronted by the opener, “I Dance Like This”, the robotic synth lead chorus juxtaposed with a slightly lightweight instrumental in the verse leaves me a little cold. There’s very little that could be branded as ‘safe’ here either, throwing South American and Asian influences into a mix of ballads and up-tempo tracks, all wrapped with Byrne’s relatively distinctive brand of rock. This is his first release in years and first solo album in over a decade, and it shows in the variety of ideas across the tracklist. On one hand, it’s brilliant to see that David Byrne isn’t just riding on the coattails of his previous projects, nor is he churning out half-baked material at high frequency, but in doing so this album takes risks which don’t consistently pay off. A reason to be cheerful? Certainly.Īmerican Utopia has me conflicted. The record isn’t a masterclass, but there are still enough dashes of genius to make it one of my favourite releases of the year. American Utopia is far too playful for that, for better and for worse. Those expecting a Blackstar will be disappointed. The record’s as cool as dad dancing can ever reasonably get. Byrne is guilty of the odd eyebrow-raiser, but if that’s the price of him staying fresh in his sixties, so be it. In a way it’s gratifying to hear the sounds coming together in real time. As jubilant as much of the album is, its shadow is part of the fun.Īlthough the opening spell of the album needs repeat listens to settle, the second half is where it hits stride. Stripped back in the context of an otherwise busy album, its soft, thoughtful melody is a welcome dose of sobriety. It’s a genuinely joyous affair, with horns and synths and jangling percussion aplenty. The album has its flaws, but they are comfortably outweighed by the David Byrne funk machine. “It’s Not Dark Up Here” and “Everybody’s Coming to My House” are vintage Byrne, with borderline delirious grooves and pristine, lively mixes. The first time I played it I was baffled, the second I started to get it, from the third onward I’ve been on board. I just can’t help but feel it could have been so much more.Īmerican Utopia is a good example of the value of repeat listens. The highlights of American Utopia are well worth your time, and the album will certainly leave an impact. For me, it’s a step too far into the realms of gibberish. For some people, that’s part of the Byrne charm. “Every Day is a Miracle” has one of the most fabulous, joyous chorus sing-alongs you’re ever likely to hear, but song is let down by its absurd verse passages.
One’s enjoyment from the album will mostly come down to personal tolerance of nonsense like ‘the mind is a soft boiled potato’. Lyrically, the record is all over the place. Though there are far more hits than misses, American Utopia is still an uneven affair. During the best moments of American Utopia, Byrne sounds enchanting, offering words of wisdom like a guru, albeit one who is in the process of losing his marbles. I mean that in a good way, astonishingly. Then there’s “Bullet”, a beautiful ballad, so elaborate, so rich, it truthfully belongs on broadway. I cannot get enough of that Latin swagger. “It’s Not Dark Up Here” boasts an outrageously cool groove, not too dissimilar to Radiohead’s “Present Tense”. Lead single “Everybody’s Coming to My House” is littered with peppy synthesisers, carried further by luscious brass and shrewd drum breaks, and the end result is funky as hell. The majority of instrumentals are superb. It takes a while, but American Utopia eventually spreads its wings, and it sounds rather fantastic. That said, the album is worth sticking with. Album openers are vitally important, and American Utopia gets it all wrong. It’s clear what Byrne was going for, and such ambition isn’t to be scoffed at, but the execution is poor. “I Dance Like This” is a calamity of painful proportions, as a light and dainty piano passage is gratingly interrupted by a clumsy electro breakdown. The opening moments are rough, and that’s putting it kindly.
American Utopia hits both end of the scale. The rewards for such a bold approach are potentially plentiful, but occasionally disastrous.
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