- If there’s an artist who understands how emotion and contemporary observations can sit side-by-side with the frequently (and incorrectly) assumed “emotionless” pulse of synth-pop, it’s Joseph Mount. As leader of British group Metronomy he has become a respected but still hugely underrated songwriter. Perhaps because his soundscapes more resemble sunny Ibiza than a rain-swept English street or an endless desert, there’s a misconception that Mount doesn’t “mean it” like Father John Misty does.
But ever since his band first emerged in 2006, Mount has made music that sounded quite comfortable alongside other ‘noughties’ electropop luminaries like Phoenix and Ladytron, but with a more playful, experimental nature. Which leads us to his knottiest collection of songs to date on the new album Metronomy Forever. The production is as pristine as ever, but its diversity and large number of instrumental tracks and “interludes” makes it sometimes resemble a mixtape more than a deliberately focused album – it’s perhaps no coincidence the record ends with a brief piece entitled Ur Mixtape.
Like the very experience of existing in a post-privacy, social media world, this album takes the listener on a multi-mood journey, each different emotion delivered quickly and compactly, yet also vividly. For all their fluorescent ‘80's washes of sound, the record also shows Mount getting his lo-fi on, even showing shades of Mount Eerie in the autobiographical acoustic ballad Upset My Girlfriend (though even this one has a stabbing synth bass line throughout).
Don’t worry, if you signed on to this band for their dancefloor-friendly singalongs, there’s a wealth of those too. New single Wedding Bells blends the perky with the putdown, a big hook-laden pop song that opens with the stinger “Yeah I hear wedding bells but they’re not for you”. Lately is another banger, its lush pop offset by a particularly wonky synthesiser that recalls Sinoia Cave’s score for Beyond The Black Rainbow – in fact, quite a few of the interludes boast a similarly haunting atmosphere. Salted Caramel Ice Cream, meanwhile, is as kooky as its title, springing joyfully in an electro-ska bounce somewhere between 2-Tone and Kylie’s Can’t Get You Out Of My Head.
From wobbly ambient sketches to euphoric dance pop, there’s a lot to take in amongst Metronomy Forever’s seventeen tracks; but it’s nothing Mount appreciators can’t handle – and the record’s unpredictable nature has plenty for anyone who likes their synth-pop infused with oddball diversity.
- Matt Thrower.