Trans-fer-ence [trans-fur-uhns]: a phenomenon characterized by the shift of emotions. Maybe Spoon made the unconscious decision of displacing the confusion of early life onto their music or maybe they just thought it would make a good album moniker. The tracks are uncouth, but crisp, jumbled but palpable, raw and yet somehow clever. And for a seventh output, the Texans manage to ramp up again with a copious concoction. So kudos to Britt Daniel, Jim Eno, Rob Pope and Eric Harvey, for re-inventing their signature sound or for looking to psychoanalysis for inspiration. The spin might not have a stellar moment like Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga did with The Underdog, but the abstruseness of the mix of tracks is enough to make you want to come back for more. Albeit there’s no pomp and circumstance to the opening number, there are drop-offs cut short and a sporadic cacophony that intrigues the listener, begging you to give the music another chance. Don’t be too quick to judge; it might just be the type that grows on you. Mystery Zone abridges the emotion best on the album, and there is a definite break from the full-voice with the lone ballad, Goodnight Laura. And for me there’s always comfort in toning down the chaos regardless of the genius behind it. Draw the curtains, scrape away at the paint, and it’s the same old Spoon from the 90s. The tunes are just Written in Reverse, upside down, and swirled around so you can“Lose a bit of yourself.”
Key Tracks: Mystery Zone, Goodnight Laura, Nobody Gets Me But You
Moods: Bittersweet, Witty, Passionate, Cathartic, Nocturnal
Buy: Transference
