I've had an interesting relationship with Spoon since they showed up on my radar about 4-and-a-half years ago. Back then, the Austin band had just released their 7th studio album, Transference, a curiously minimal-sounding rock record that took a while for me to appreciate and even longer to 'get'. In a way, it was a sort of gradual unfurling that would be repeated elsewhere as I became acquainted with the band's back catalogue. Britt Daniel's voice has become increasingly familiar since then, but in the interim, his band has seemed tough for me to crack. I knew I liked them, but I just didn't fully appreciate them.
For a while, I thought they would always be that one band who remained elusive, my continued explorations coming up short. Then They Want My Soul came along, and everything changed. In a strange twist, the Daniel-related musical project I had enjoyed the most up until then was his collaboration with ex-Wolf Parade man Dan Boeckner. Something must have happened with Spoon after they took some time off a few years back, because things have now fallen into place. They sound reinvigorated. It could be that they've worked with outside producers for the first time - the influence of Dave Fridmann is clear on lead single 'Rent I Pay', the introduction driven by huge drums and a punchy sound that hooks the listener right in - but it seems that the break they took did them a whole lot of good.
Fridmann was chosen after initial sessions with Joe Chiccarelli were scrapped, but the band had already started getting back to what Daniel called 'the essence of Spoon', and it's the former's maxed-out aesthetic that allows the quintet (yes, there's 5 of them, with Alex Fischel drafted in for keyboard duties this time) to pack in some pretty diverse influences. 'Inside Out' features an irresistible hip-hop groove, while bassist Rob Pope brings the funk to 'Outlier', Jim Eno's drumming adding an extra layer to an already full-on sound. It's in contention for being the hidden gem of the record, aided by a kick-ass segue from 'Knock Knock Knock'. For those of you who wish to hear the band rocking out, 'Do You' and the album's title track should provide all your uptempo needs.
The real 'outlier' of the album is the gently swung 'I Just Don't Understand', a cover of an early 60s track by Ann-Margret, probably more recognisable as its interpretation by the Beatles in 1963. Its pared-back sound in comparison to the rest of the record means that it would have probably fit in more readily on Transference, but it's not so much of a shock as to take the listener out of the experience of Spoon's latest record. Besides, relatively speaking, Daniel and company save the best for last: the vintage-sounding 'Let Me Be Mine' offering a new twist on the sort of song the band could probably write in their sleep (aided by some spectral keyboard work that has Fischer's name all over it), before things go stratospheric for closer 'New York Kiss', its keyboard backing and infectious, poppy aesthetic bringing the curtain down with the band's most accessible work in years. It's a hell of a way to go out, but the scales are hardly tipped in its favour - the entire album is full of top-quality songwriting, the work of a band who, after 20 years on the go, have realised just what it is to be who they are and do what they do. They may still want my soul, but finally, Spoon have won my heart.
