In a move that challenges titling etiquette rules and will universally irk copy editors, TV on the Radio included a comma at the end of the name of its new album.
Dear Science, is the highly anticipated follow-up to TV on the Radio's critically lauded sophomore album Return to Cookie Mountain, a comprehensive convergence of pop and the avant-garde.
In no way is the 11-track disc incomplete or insufficient; the band laboriously hones its skills throughout the album. Although the album is a bold next step, it sits a notch below their breakthrough record.
This time, members of the art-rock post-punk doo-wop Brooklyn quintet have drafted an open-ended letter to "the physical or material world" and they want some answers.
Since the band originally kicked around bizarre album titles like Black Versus French Fries in the Battle for the Delicious Universe, we should be grateful members settled on the shorter title.
The comma seems to represent the continuation of a complex odyssey into the band's sprawling experimental opus. These engineers of musicology construct songs with poetic lyrics and technical nuances and layers while tackling nearly every genre.
There is a significantly dancier, more grooving feel to this album versus the somber, gloomy major-label debut Cookie Mountain. The songs are more audibly coherent than the signature fuzz sound that reverberated through "Wolf Like Me" and "Playhouses."
The opening track "Halfway Home" exhilaratingly starts the album with an intense drum beat and haunting vocals from the always-falsetto lead vocalist Tunde Adebimpe.
"Family Tree" is embedded in grandiosity. It is a moving orchestral ballad with a thematic ambiguity. "From the shadows of the gallows of your family tree / There's a hundred hearts or three / Put the blood to the roots of evil to keep them young." Piano and strings are heard as the track opens until violins and bass drums kick in at the climax.
The sometimes depressing lyrics that mirror those of Gnarls Barkley are buoyed by the music's exhaustive inventiveness and unpredictable riffs.
The lustful but gender-respecting final track "Lover's Day," written by guitarist/vocalist Kyp Malone, is so lewd it warrants a parent advisory sticker for innuendo. The song is an unusual closer but adds a strong extra layer.
At times when the band is engrossed in the labors of its craft, it can't help but sound like a techno-infused synthesis of Prince and David Bowie, two of its chief influences. The upbeat "Golden Age" is deeply Bowie-esque, especially the lyrics and title reminiscent of his 1975 hit "Golden Years." It felt only natural when Bowie provided backing vocals on "Province" for the band's previous album.
The record was meticulously produced by guitarist David Sitek, a multi-instrumentalist with a reputation for adopting alternative recording styles. He blasted a song from a 1980s Sharp stereo positioned in the hallway and recorded it through his home stereo.
The band's EP Young Liars and studio albums Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes and Return to Cookie Mountain were met with critical praise and they are deserving of more.
Although Cookie Mountain was superior in producing a unique evocative sound and having a few more memorable hooks, the band has suffered no creative setbacks. With all the ingredients swirling in the cauldron, it's easy to get lost in the epic intricacy. Some listeners might struggle to get past the off-key melodies and distorted sounds to see the expressionistic craftsmanship.
With this offering, TV on the Radio proves it is eager to keep pushing the barrier of subversive modern music and avoid sounding like anybody else out there.
Even though science will likely not respond to the band's queries and anxieties, TV on the Radio is having no problem serving as a pioneer of brave new inventions.
Grade: B+
