Matador Records
This Stupid World is the seventeenth album of veteran American indie rockers Yo La Tengo, and arguably their best since 2000’s masterful And Then Nothing Turned Itself-Out. Reflective with a wry, humourful cynicism, it sees the band at their playful, ragged best, shaking off the shackles and letting it all go.
Yo La Tengo have long been the swiss army of the indie scene, innovative and evolutionary, drifting from jazzy introspection to noisy rock, from melodic power pop to atmospheric drone, and occasionally engaging in raucous cover versions. They are as unassuming as they are under-appreciated, the critic’s darling but deprived of the commercial success of some of their contemporaries. The band’s longevity is a testament to their perseverance and creativity, retaining relevance through their ability to create deeply textured tracks without sacrificing melody. This Stupid World sees them back near their best after the somewhat indistinguishable ambient tones of 2020’s We Have Amnesia Sometimes and the blissful, if slightly bloated, tranquillity of 2018’s There’s a Riot Going On.
This Stupid World is the sound of a bunch of friends fretting with each other, and the interplay between Ira Kaplan and Georgia Hubley is excellent. The record benefits from its organic recording process, the result of simply turning up and playing together, creating a live and spontaneous sound- the record is filled with surprising left turns. It’s completely self-produced, and despite its spontaneous roots, it’s quite a self-contained effort for the group. Lyrically it looks at the passage of time, loss and death, speaking universal truths with a smidgen of introspection. Kaplan described the album’s title as “the mood we’re in”, believing it’s a title anyone can derive meaning from. While the record may dance with morbidity, the group’s wry sense of humour stops it from becoming an overly mournful affair.
The album opens with the brilliant semi-psychedelic ramble of ‘Sinatra Drive Breakdown’. James McNew’s rumbling bass line underpins the track, as Kaplan and Hubley’s whispered poetic offerings drift over the top. It has a dirty, uninhibited feel, typified by Kaplan’s Sonic Youth-style freakout on the guitars, interjecting the track with squalling guitar bursts. Kaplan’s freewheeling is contrasted by the sustained rhythm Hubley brings with the percussion, bringing control to the chaos. ‘Fallout’ is one of the band’s best songs in years, a beautifully melodic piece of fuzzy shoegaze, Kaplan’s voice dripping with nostalgia as he sings, “I want to fall out of time”. Kaplan may want to defy time, but rarely have the band sounded so good. The McNew-led ‘Tonight’s Episode’ sees the group riffing with some nonsensical wordplay (“Milk the cow/I can milk the cow”) yet somehow managing to retain a level of sincerity.
Hubley takes centre stage for the wonderfully dreamy ‘Aselestine’. It’s gorgeously sentimental, with subtle synths and the gently plucked acoustic guitar combining perfectly to create a woozy, cloudy atmosphere. ‘Until It Happens’ fuses the sound of gently pattering bongos and warped guitar lines as Kaplan stares mortality in the eye. The song moves from the sombre “Prepare to die/Prepare yourself while there’s still time” to the more optimistic “Stay alive/Look away from the hands of time”. It’s a song that neatly encapsulates the album’s message that death is inevitable but shouldn’t be feared; preparation is fine, but it shouldn’t stop you living. ‘Apology Letter’ is a lovely, languid number, a bittersweet anthem about a couple arguing that Kaplan still manages to wring some humour from; “Another one of my delightful quirks/What a jerk”.
‘Brain Caper’ starts with a slow, jazz-like bassline before erupting into an all-out frenzied sonic explosion. Kaplan invites you to “Trip the light with me”, an apt description for the pseudo-psychedelic jam that follows, as Hubley’s whispers fill your ears amidst the screeching synths and jagged guitars. ‘This Stupid World’ begins with a big ball of feedback, Kaplan’s voice drifting like smoke through the harsh sound. In the dense thicket of noise, Kaplan’s melodic meditation just about comes through, lamenting, “This stupid world/It’s killing me/This stupid world/Is all we have”. The apocalyptic sound matches his words, which drift between mourning and acceptance. The closer, ‘Miles Away’, builds with skittish, percussive layers, but Hubley’s soothing voice belies her dark, poetic meditations (“Burdens rise/Avert your eyes/The pain creeps in anyhow”).
Despite its dense atmosphere and occasionally morbid wordplay, Kaplan and Hubley provide a soothing, melodic quality throughout the record. This Stupid World isn’t the sound of frustration or anger but rather a reluctant acceptance. It combines all the elements that have made Yo La Tengo continuously engaging, with gorgeous melodies, the odd psychedelic freak out, humorous wordplay, and dense, eerie atmospheres. This Stupid World feels focused but sprawling simultaneously, a testament to the group’s abilities as musicians. It’s the record you weren’t expecting, but once you hear it, it becomes the record you need. Keep going, Yo La Tengo. The world still needs you.