The moment “Odd Soul” kicks in, you realize this is not the MuteMath of 2006.
Sure, the same sonic imprint is still there, the amped-up mix of rock and electronics, given a sheen of overproduction that pushes it into the red. Evidently, the guys put on a killer live show. it almost seems the studio constrains their impulses.
But on Odd Soul, the band reveals more depth and soul than on the previous two albums. The music is a little more organic, a little less processed, and more experimental than the blurs of noise that characterized the worst of Mutemath and Armistice.
The ambience of “All Or Nothing” puts these guys in the same league as Radiohead, such is the chilly vibe and high-pitched vocals, while the aforementioned title track kicks things off with one of those blues rock tunes being spun by contemporaries Joe Bonamassa and the Black Keys. Little on previous MuteMath outings has hinted at this sort of depth.
Other highlights include the spacy electronica of “Sun Ray,” which neatly updates those old Massive Attack and Portishead albums of the early ‘90s, the jaunty, kinetic “Allies,” and the nonsensical rock pomp of “Prytania.” An unusual time signature and Paul Meany’s washed-out vocals elevate “Cavalries” above the fray as well.
Speaking of vocals, MuteMath has no qualms about putting their faith in their lyrics, but never is it insulting, pandering or too strong. “Walking Paranoia” is a good example of this, with self-examinations like “I am a nervous wreck / Jesus is coming back / Gonna catch me at the porno rack” trading off with “Preachers are on the prowl / And they got me on the TV dial / ‘Say your prayers or burn and rot’.”
Many of the lyrics follow a similar thread, a mix of questioning one’s actions and faith with a desire to do the right thing, whether it be with God or in a relationship: “I don’t have that thing inside that tell me / When I’ve said enough … I know no one keeps you on guard / More than I do / But I don’t have to tell you that,” Meany sings on “Tell Your Heart Heads Up,” one of those rare occurrences when the jerk of the relationship actually realizes his or her actions instead of automatically blaming the other person.
The Motown funk of “One More” is another highlight, an example of restraint and keyboards that proves these guys are more than amplified alt-rock. It’s perhaps the best song here. Dragging down the proceedings are a handful of noisy tracks with no real melodies, especially the overlong “Quarantine,” but the closing “In No Time” is beautiful and simple, a pleasant electronic blip underneath heartfelt lyrics about rediscovering one’s hope and faith after it has been shaken.
The variety of styles and textures on Odd Soul showcase a band that is more willing to experiment than to ride into the ground a sound that brought them initial fame. More fun and memorable than MuteMath and more accessible than the insular Armistice, this is MuteMath’s best album to date.