No Frills Reviews

As they sacrifice some of their catchy charm, The Lumineers lack of songwriting depth is increasingly exposed

The Lumineers may only be five albums deep, and still command popular appeal, even if it’s now been a few years since hits, such as *insert old-fashioned female name*. Yet they already feel like somewhat of a relic. A relic to 2010’s faux farm-boy fashion, car commercial indie folk. In spite of them having the distinct stench of what the modern music snob may describe as “co-worker music”, I’ve got a soft spot for them; Wesley Schultz is an undeniably strong vocalist, they know how to write a chorus, and I’m a sucker for a good old Americana-lite singalong.

But the further they get from the stomp-clap catchiness of their biggest hits, it becomes increasingly apparent that they just aren’t a very interesting band. Continuing the trend of previous album, BRIGHTSIDE, they’ve reined in their poppier instincts; the unpretentious two-note piano-prod chorus of Better Day is the biggest glimpse of the raggedy simplicity that they excel at. Instead they tend more towards big heart-on-sleeve balladry; the problem being that these grander moments often ring hollow. The pointless 30-second string interlude, handily entitled Strings, is so obviously on-the-nose that it feels like cheating to use it as an example. But, I’ll do it anyway because it’s the perfect encapsulation of the empty posturing that pervades Automatic.

As a purely musical experience, there’s not a lot to fault here. It’s certainly nothing groundbreaking, but they’re an undoubtedly tight band. In terms of accessible Americana, they may be as good as it gets. From rousing piano anthem, Asshole, through to acoustic lullabies like Ativan, or the ominous blues stomp of So Long. The songs are built around the big climaxes afforded by Shultz’s powerhouse voice. Yet, for a band that revels in rustic aesthetic, it all comes away feeling too clean for it’s own good. And that’s largely a symptom of the sterile songwriting.

These songs sound like they’re delivering big emotional moments, but they don’t feel like it; Schultz and bandmate, Jeremiah Fraites, write an imitation of personal songs. Asshole has the facade of an introspective confessional, but it paints in such broad strokes that it lacks any real depth. You’re All I Got initially gives a sense of raw vulnerability, but the decision to reprise the chorus wholesale for Keys on the Table, just a few tracks later, feels completely unearned and lazy; retrospectively tainting the sentiment of the original. And lyrical flourishes like “Hey, Momma” or “Carry on, kid” seem designed to inject down-home, folksy charm but just come off as cliché filler phrasing.

While I expect that they were aiming for relatability, Lumineers fail to achieve that by never really straying beyond generality. The superficial attempts at real personality only serve to highlight the lack of substance at the heart of what they do.

Best tunes: Asshole, You’re All I Got, Better Day

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