From the out-of-step psychedelic rock of 2010’s Congratulations and 2013’s MGMT to their surprisingly somber return to form in 2018’s Little Dark Age, MGMT has seemingly been on a career-long quest to confound critics and fans alike. On their fifth studio album, Loss of Life, the band discovers a delectable sweet spot between the psych-pop promise of their early work and their noble, albeit stubborn, determination to deliver something more sophisticated.
That’s not to say that MGMT has outgrown their prankster ways. The album opens, perhaps counterintuitively, with “Loss of Life, Part 2,” which warps the music of the closing title song into a backing track for a reading of “I Am Taliesin. I Sing Perfect Metre,” a medieval poem celebrating the interconnectedness of all things. It’s a weird and trippy intro to Loss of Life that effectively speaks to the album’s sound and ethos.
Loss of Life kicks off proper with its second track, “Mother Nature,” which wears its Oasis influence on its sleeve, with catchy vocal melodies and crisp acoustic guitars. “I put the groceries down on the front lawn, and think maybe the children just want recognition,” Andrew VanWyngarden sings, his nostalgia neatly dovetailing with the track’s throwback sound.
The genre exploration continues with the power ballad “Dancing in Babylon,” a tasteful take on the Jim Steinman template, offering the drama without as much of the bombast. Elsewhere, “Bubblebum Dog” and “People in the Streets” hit like a pair of David Bowie songs from different eras: the former channeling his glam period with shredding solos and baroque harpsichords, and the latter his Eno period with moody production, fretless bass, and a spacey finale.
Each song on Loss of Life takes you on a journey in and of itself, some more unexpected than others. For much of its runtime, “Nothing to Declare” remains a simple, unassuming folk song before swirling into a cacophony of ticking clocks and spiraling acoustic guitar counterpoints. And “Nothing Changes,” tailor-made for a long drive, is dark and slow-burning, leading to an anthemic climax of lush backing vocals, horns, and booming drums.
Like the great, good-humored psychedelic acts before them, MGMT mixes comedy with contemplation throughout Loss of Life. “This is what the gods must have been talking about…This is what the birds must have been squawking about,” VanWyngarden sings on “Nothing Changes.” The humor helps to crack the inscrutability. “Nobody calls me the gangster of love,” the singer laments on “I Wish I Was Joking,” echoed by a heavenly chorale. At face value, it’s a goofy tongue-in-cheek reference to Steve Miller Band’s “The Joker,” but when you dig a little deeper, it’s quite sad to imagine that VanWyngarden would like to viewed that way.
After spending most of their career up to now signed to a major label, MGMT seems to have found space to make the kind of music they want without sacrifice here. The anxious tension of unmet expectations that used to hang over them is gone—and you can hear it in the songs. As the closing title track crescendos into maximalist madness, it provides the album with a finale so over the top that one can’t help but wonder if MGMT were really joking after all.
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