This random dude made a rude comment at me on my way back from work, « you look like you know how to fuck » and well oh boy oh boy don’t you have something else coming.
Not only do I know how, I have also done it enough time to know I am 100% asexual.
You know what else I know how to do tho? Write about dead gay wizards from the 70s eating ass poetically now get off my dick.
1. numb
2. over you yet
3. noise
4. money
5. tears that never dry
6. monster v.2
7. lockdown
8. lose you again
9. fighting fire with fire
10. problems
11. me and my friends
12. country star
13. by this time tomorrow
14. streets of heaven
15. don’t be afraid of the dark
16. monster v.1
Tom Odell has always been a gifted artist—an unabashed honesty in his words, somber in temperament, but a subsequent livewire not long after. It’s earned him a Brit and an Ivor Novello Award, a career that is nearly ten years old, chart-topper “Another Love” having made its debut in 2012. Odell’s monsters is a strong return – a stark contrast of vulnerability, anger, autonomy, and the ability to rise beyond the worst of times.
Affer forging his way through “a dark period of mental health” over the past couple of years, his emotion is potent, a heavy heart and mind splashed onto his latest work. Odell explores and experiments on this record. I can’t fault an artist for new inspiration, even if I’m, at times, caught missing his ‘signature’ piano-laden singer-songwriter. “numb” is the first introduction to the disconnect and pain, experimental in sound and a fraught intensity that rivals that of the Joker (with less theatrics).
He’s taken inspiration from the likes of hip hop, electronic and bedroom pop, citing a fondness for the stylings and lack of boundaries for the genres he’s shied from in the past. I love the approach to “noise,” which is more of an interlude, very much giving the impression of a quick demo done right. Choppy and intermittent, it draws an eerie connection between news and politics, influence and society – “They sell me dreams / they sell me doubts / they sell me that thing we just talked about.”
“money” is casually narcissistic, while “lockdown” is life in isolation, dreams (and fears) always in question. It’s got this layered, textured air that is progressively harder to comprehend. I suppose it’s the nature of the unknown and time meshing together. Touché. There is power behind “monster v.2,” the title track written about attempting to overcome panic attacks. An inner strength that displays love and a brave face, it’s accompanied by the best of synths and electronic beats, spacious and sophisticated. “lose you again” draws parallel to an older era Odell, a heartbreaker, upbeat piano ballad over a fractured relationship. Lyrically, it shines; a painstaking cry while maintaining a stoic persona, a call to toxic masculinity and the idea that outwardly expressing emotion is weak.
In a shift of mood, the poppy “me and my friends” is a form of carefree escapism. Its group vocal chant is quite fun – a welcoming addition to the collection so far. “by this time tomorrow” has a fairy-tale charm. I can just picture a protagonist wrongfully separated from their star-crossed lover, yearning for a way to find their way back to one another. Simple but prominent piano accents this beautiful track.
Oh my oh my, “streets of heaven” is going to be a show stopper, there’s no question. Drawing narrative from the mass shootings and unjustified hate in our world, it remembers those lost, and how hard it is to move on. It’s this poignant, gospel-influenced anthem. Odell’s delivery over “we’re just a bunch of kids / we didn’t have to die” is soul merged with tragedy.
He comes full circle with “don’t be afraid of the dark,” gentle guitar and instrumentation to bring a lighter, airy feel to a positive end. You can quite literally hear birds chirp in agreement. A rugged piano solo takes the reins at song’s end, a gesture that won’t go unnoticed to balance its absence earlier on.
Odell muses about himself and the world as much as he listens, states that brood, cherish, show erraticism and discontent. Feelings and values are not black and white, stagnant or lucid, and he shows listeners the magic in a journey that is as bold as his newfound sound.
