It was a homecoming of sorts when Spoon released 2017's Hot Thoughts on Matador -- the label issued the group's debut album, Telephono -- but the one the band experienced while making Lucifer on the Sofa was much more literal. After years in L.A., frontman Britt Daniel returned to his hometown of Austin, Texas, setting the stage for one of the band's more dramatic musical pivots. Hot Thoughts' synthy atmospheres and beats bathed Spoon's music in glittering mirror ball light, but their tenth album is smoky and gritty, ...
Read More
It was a homecoming of sorts when Spoon released 2017's Hot Thoughts on Matador -- the label issued the group's debut album, Telephono -- but the one the band experienced while making Lucifer on the Sofa was much more literal. After years in L.A., frontman Britt Daniel returned to his hometown of Austin, Texas, setting the stage for one of the band's more dramatic musical pivots. Hot Thoughts' synthy atmospheres and beats bathed Spoon's music in glittering mirror ball light, but their tenth album is smoky and gritty, steeped in the ambience of Austin and crowded concert halls. Beginning with a stomping cover of Smog's "Held," a favorite from the group's early-2000s shows that echoes the simmering menace of their own "The Beast and Dragon, Adored," Lucifer on the Sofa has the satisfying impact, ebb, and flow of a great rock concert. It's a move that feels genuine; no matter how much they pare it down or polish it up, rock 'n' roll is at the heart of Spoon's music. For the first time in a while, the band's guitars are at the forefront, particularly on the chugging groove and dive-bombing solos of "The Hardest Cut," which combines the swagger of longtime faves like the Who and the Kinks with the influence of Lone Star State institution ZZ Top. Lucifer on the Sofa may be Spoon's most traditional reincarnation of rock yet; even its ten-song length is classic. However, this reverence doesn't get in the way of trying new things. The band flirts with writing a bona fide anthem on "Wild," which echoes Springsteen and Seger in its search for salvation and new adventures, but never feels so broad that it loses its meaning. On several other key songs, Spoon get back to basics with the emotions driving their music. "My Babe" is a love song that's all the more winning because it's so unguarded, yet "On the Radio," which celebrates the airwaves' power to inspire and unite with pure, perfect choruses reminiscent of "Sister Jack," might be even more romantic. As much as Lucifer on the Sofa borrows from classic rock, it also borrows from classic Spoon. With its dapper brass, spooky piano, and soulful melody, "The Devil & Mr. Jones" feels descended from Girls Can Tell. Few other bands are as good at drifting, late-night moods as Spoon are, and "Astral Jacket"'s reverie of close harmonies and mellow electric pianos bolsters that reputation. For all its rawness, Lucifer on the Sofa's most striking song might be its title track. A midnight ramble through Austin set to ghostly keys and saxophone, it walks away from the gravity of the past and its artifacts and toward the possibilities of the future with a mix of world-weariness and optimism that feels perfectly of its moment and timeless. The same can be said for Lucifer on the Sofa as a whole -- once again, Spoon show there's still plenty of mystery left in classic sounds, and they're still experts at revealing it. ~ Heather Phares, Rovi
Read Less
Portions of content provided by Rovi Corporation. © 2024 Rovi Corporation.