(((O))) Review: The War On Drugs – I Don’t Live Here Anymore

Things seem to be falling into place nicely for The War On Drugs. With their fifth studio album I Don’t Live Here Anymore, the Philadelphia band led by Adam Granduciel have created another ten fine songs to add to their excellent back catalogue. It was their third album, 2014’s Lost In The Dream that was my introduction to their modern take on 80s rock. I subsequently purchased their first two albums and everything since, yet I’ve readily allowed them to simmer in terms of being a band I can truly call a favourite. But with this record, I think that is about to change.

In terms of the band’s career trajectory, there also appears to be some widespread success in terms of increased listeners, and rightly so. I had originally put in a sentence about wondering why The War On Drugs aren’t filling arenas, only to look closer at their upcoming tour dates to find out they are! It’s also a key footnote to mention that they won a Grammy for best rock album for their last album, 2017’s A Deeper Understanding. Produced by Granduciel and Engineer Shawn Everett, the band made up of David Hartley (bass/guitars), Robbie Bennett (keyboards/piano/guitar), Charlie Hall (drums/organ), Anthony LaMarca (guitar/keyboards) and Jon Natchez (saxophone/keyboards) once again serve up a sublime spread of sumptuous instrumentation.

‘Living Proof’ is an understated opening to the album, a hushed calmness made up of acoustic guitar, piano and the occasional flicker of electric guitar. It’s a warm introduction and Adam Granduciel is in fine voice as ever, the lowkey instrumentation pushing his tender vocals to the fore. Eventually the simmering shimmer of the acoustic guitar dissipates, and the band join in to make the mix even warmer and the guitar solo that effortlessly slips in, is lazy and beautiful. The band’s familiar swirling guitars and pianos dominate the up-tempo drive-rock of ‘Harmonia’s Dream’. I find this type of song a more acceptable modern take on the kind of rock music Bruce Hornsby and his ilk made back in ye olden days. Given a cooler sheen of icy synths and the marvellous production that permeates every War On Drugs album, it’s gloriously good. Granduciel’s way with a melody is deceptively addictive. Once these earworms connect, it’s hard not to find your day populated with the myriad of melodies therein.

‘Change’ opens with a classic 80s rock guitar line and you can’t help but think that if The War on Drugs had been around 30 years ago they’d be seen in a different light, and probably retired with vast sums of cash. The wonderfully detailed instrumentation that underpins the song allows Granduciel to play it relatively easy for the most part. His vocal style reminiscent of Bob Dylan and Bryan Adams at the same time. Well that’s what I hear anyway. The former in terms of the inflections and elongated phrasing, the latter because that throaty rasp isn’t a hundred miles away from the Canadian hit maker.

Clipped 80s electro percussion, lifted wholesale from ‘In The Air Tonight’, fires up the heavily distorted ‘I Don’t Wanna Wait’ as Granduciel hints at some form of sexual tension. The verse simmers like hot air floating above a desert road. The chorus is flashing neon, a mirage of euphoric release. I defy you not to hear the Adams’ comparison when Granduciel sings “when I’m running to you”. Then my goodness, the bridge in the middle of the song is a heart stopping moment, followed up by a blistering guitar solo that tips this song into the Top 5 best War On Drugs songs. Building to something of an outright epic at the climax, the soloing kicks in again and I don’t want it to end.

Straight out of the soundtrack to Miami Vice comes the slinky ‘Victim’, with some brilliant layers of synths and textures that hurl you back in time. Once again Granduciel teases out another belter of a chorus as he sings of being “a victim of my own desire”. The elongated “oohs” of the question “Who are ya?” build up to a frenetic splurge of ugly distorted guitar. It’s quite jarring amidst the general feel of the album but shows that the band aren’t all about keeping it steady. Throw in a wired harmonica solo and you’ve got yourself another album highlight.

The opening lines of ‘I Don’t Live Here Anymore’ are nabbed from the 80s hit ‘Bette Davis Eyes’, and that’s not a bad thing. Given a lick of modern production the swaggering vocals from Granduciel are strong and confident. There’s a nod to the influential Mr Zimmerman with the lines “when we went to see Bob Dylan, we danced to ‘Desolation Row’, but I don’t live here anymore, but I got no place to go”. The chorus of this song is pretty much the best chorus I have heard all year, the glorious backing vocals, courtesy of Lucius, embellishing the melody and lifting the euphoria. This is another track to nudge into the Top 5 best War On Drugs songs.

After that wondrous trio of classic songs, we need some respite and the organ led opening of ‘Old Skin’ is a much-needed moment of calm, until it erupts into an absolute cracker of a chorus. (This is where the arena question was). I’m certain that given the right lift, i.e. an appearance in some big movie or TV show soundtrack, The War On Drugs would be a household name. It appears Granduciel has felt the urge to make a more upbeat record on this outing, a song like ‘Wasted’ chops along on a propulsive beat and poppy and sprightly keyboards allowing him to sing melodies of a more uplifting variety. I can imagine The Boss belting this one out and if this had appeared on ‘Born In The USA’ it would have been a huge hit. Granduciel decides it needs some extra Bobby D though, which may not be for everyone.

Granduciel is also capable of creating beautiful, lush ballads and the lamentable ‘Rings Around My Father’s Eyes’ is a prime example of stunning instrumentation and pacing. Every listen of repeated plays reveals new sounds as the textures and layers are intricate and run deep. Truly stunning. Album closer ‘Occasional Rain’ is another mid-paced track that is neither ballad nor rocker but bursting with lovely hooks and lovingly created instrumentation. The guitars appear to loop like a kaleidoscope of marvellous melodies, constantly appearing to evolve, yet not actually going anywhere. I mean this in a good way, there is a level of hypnosis to The War On Drugs music that makes you feel that you might have consumed some substance or other. Only my long-term favourites Spiritualized make me feel that way, so this band hold a special place in my heart, and head.

This is an odd album, having to listen to it with a view to reviewing it, there was the obvious necessity to listen to it more times than I might have otherwise. It’s just as well, because if you only give it a cursory listen, you may miss out on some fantastic songs. They need repeat plays to seep into your consciousness. You need to digest them slowly, absorb the little nuances of the structures, and revel in the glory of the detail. That’s what makes The War On Drugs so special, I know I have probably done them some form of injustice by referencing the 80s artists and sounds, but there is no denying they base their sound on another era. I grew up in that era, so maybe that’s another aspect of the appeal. One of modern rock’s best kept secrets have just released one of their best albums yet.