This is All Yours is just what you would expect from Alt-J. It feels more like a sequel to their last album, An Awesome Wave, than a separate entity. Like its predecessor, This is All Yours combines authentic beats with a spine-tingling array of experimental noises (and even gives you part II to “Bloodflood”). The English trio—now without the contributions of their founder/bass-player, Gwil Sainsbury—has produced another album that will climb into your soul and build a home there.
It’s easy to fall hard for Joe Newman’s voice. The track “Pusher” primarily relies on his soft, airy vocals, which skate across high notes and take us somewhere else entirely. Often with a hint of levity and a whole lot of poetry, the lyrics are surprisingly interesting and thought provoking. The words that can actually be deciphered feel all the more sincere, hiding behind a voice that does most of the heavy lifting in “Pusher”: “I lack the zest of a lemon, looking forward / Unless I have a woman pushing me.”
Newman proves that vocals don’t even require lyrics in the “Intro” track, which, for the most part, is just a repeating sequence of “la, la, la”s.
What makes Alt-J songs so engaging is that each instrument, effect, and vocal eccentricity could easily stand on its own. The variety of sounds that seem to explode throughout a single track, “Intro” especially, is bound to make an impression on any listener. Whether it’s a foreign, Asian string instrument or a mixed, grainy background effect yelling out “hey hey hey” repeatedly, Alt-J knows how to mesh together some truly obscure noises in a way that is not only audibly appealing, but exotic and mesmerizing.
“Left Hand Free” is fantastic. But really, it doesn’t fit into the album in the unique way that, say, “Hunger of the Pine” does. With some jazzy rock and a super cool guitar lick, “Left Hand Free” does what it needs to do to be radio-worthy and highly re-playable, but that’s about it.
This is All Yours feels quiet(er). It could just be the impact of “Warm Foothills” and “Pusher,” songs that charm with minimalism: teeny guitar plucks and sweet, dripping lyrics. The “Nara” sequence seems to start out with this ideal in mind. “Arrival in Nara” feels too shy: slight whispers and hums, the bothersome effect of a fly’s buzz. The last of the three, “Leaving Nara,” is etched here and there with electronic effects, occasionally broken up by scattered keyboard notes. Although “Arrival” has its own profundity in mind, “Leaving” is where Alt-J finds its ground with a unique attention to detail, and a signature knack of throwing in the right noise at the right time. I would glean from the song titles that the trio knew exactly what they were doing.
“Every Other Freckle” takes this to a new level. From the beginning: Building excitement with a quickening percussive rustle, followed by broken guitar strums, creepily suggestive lyrics, the overdone reverb of a steel string, the weird folksy-cum-Latin drum/choir aside. It’s a lot to take in, but it works. If This is All Yours shows us anything, it’s that Alt-J is slowly mastering the craft of indie experimentation.
Alt-J’s world is one of unhinged emotions and spiraling confusion. There’s no better place to get lost.
This is All Yours