Atlas

What the casual listener will think of Real Estate’s third album depends entirely on what he/she is hoping to take from it. From their 2009 debut onwards, this New Jersey troupe has prided itself on perfecting a mild, nostalgic style of indie rock, spangled with smooth guitar textures and unshowy structures. Their latest offers little deviation from the formula, grounding itself in sleepy, jangling arrangements which chime with the bittersweet glimmer of summers past. As such, those fond of such a quiet style will be right at home here, but for those who aren’t quite as convinced, Atlas is unlikely to change one’s mind.

In line with the aesthetic within which the band has operated thus far, there’s no doubting the fine craftsmanship demonstrated in Atlas. Each of its ten songs is meticulously polished; every second radiating a warm, clean glow. The melodies of dual guitarists Martin Courtney and Matt Mondanile weave around one another with nimble surety, bolstered by the neat basswork of Alex Bleeker. The results ring with a well-tuned timelessness which can be traced to a variety of precursors: opener ‘Had to Hear’ harks back to The Stone Roses, whereas the lackadaisical patter of ‘The Bend’ shares affinities with the output of Kurt Vile.

Sonically, then, the group have done very well. But where Atlas falters is at the same hurdle which has – in the eyes of many detractors – frequently felled Real Estate. Fans will protest that the unobtrusive nature of the band’s music is integral to their appeal, but ultimately, the lack of a decisive direction can quickly become dispiriting. These 38 minutes waft by all too quietly, with barely any surprises or truly affecting material mined along the way. One can imagine these songs happily soundtracking a Sims game: all are breezy and light-of-step, but there’s a constant risk of such pleasantness becoming too unassuming, thus causing the album to recede into mere background noise.

The only way to find out is to give it a spin and see where Atlas takes you.

Interestingly enough, the lone instrumental passage of ‘April’s Song’ emits a gorgeous shine all of its own, which perhaps underlines the fact that Courtney’s lead vocals are not the quintet’s strongest asset. There are times when his voice does break from its routinely languid keening, as on the hookier ‘Crime’, but there’s little to latch onto in the way of a profound sentiment or earworm refrain. Instead, Courtney is content to ponder classic staples of aimless suburban life: staring down his reflection in a chrome surface, stealing out of back doors, and calling up distant companions. This fixation on domestic ennui goes some way to justify the reticence of Atlas, and it’s certainly maintained well, but it ultimately fails to make the band’s music any more engaging.

Therein lies the grey area of Atlas: much like suburbia itself, it offers prettiness in abundance, but little in the way of personality. Consequently, some will find this album to be frustratingly distant, while others could well find themselves a modest favourite for 2014. It depends how much stock one is willing to put into Courtney’s plea during ‘Crime’: “Stay with me / All will be revealed.” The only way to find out is to give it a spin and see where Atlas takes you.

Similar To: The War on Drugs, DIIV

MP3: ‘Had to Hear’, ‘Talking Backwards’