The Lumineers released their new album “Automatic” on Feb. 14 — and, contrary to the name of their lead single “Same Old Song,” there’s nothing old about this inventive return to their signature style. At only 32 minutes, “Automatic” is one of The Lumineers’ most inspired albums, chock-full of vulnerable lyrics and an understated soundscape.
“Same Old Song” — the album’s opener — is a complete sucker-punch with its personal lyrics, forceful drums and lead vocalist Wesley Schultz’s powerhouse vocals. In just under three minutes, the band reminds listeners that a song’s length is not proportional to its impact.
They raise the stakes with “Asshole,” an emotional look at the push-and-pull of intimacy with an incredibly catchy hook. The song builds until it reaches a crescendo at the end, with the hook “First we ever met / you thought I was an asshole / Probably correct” cutting through the tension.
The album features two interludes — “Strings” near the album’s beginning and “Sunflowers” close to the end. These two instrumental pieces act as a necessary buffer for an album that otherwise threatens to buckle under the weight of its own introspection.
The upbeat interlude “Strings” is fittingly followed by the track “Automatic.” The eponymous, stripped-down piano ballad delves into how the spoils of modernity often conceal a hollowness within them. The song is interspersed with clever references to “electric cars” and trendy “salad bars” before settling on the refrain “Oh, my lover, is it ever gonna be enough?”
These lyrical choices were made in the image of the album’s significance.
In an announcement posted on their Instagram, the band said the album “explores some of the absurdities of the modern world, like the increasingly blurry line between what’s real and what’s not and the variety of ways we numb ourselves while trying to combat both boredom and overstimulation.”
The relaxed production style continues on the song “You’re All I Got,” which is reminiscent of their 2019 album “III.” In contrast to some of their earlier works, “Automatic” brilliantly tells a story without attempting to build a fictionalized universe. There is no narrative to hide behind in this album and therein lies the beauty of the work. Written entirely by Schultz and bandmate Jeremiah Fraites, the album’s lyrics are born from the duo’s own experiences and imagination, though they also manage to strike at very particular emotions that all listeners can empathize with.
“Ativan” and “Keys on the Table” are the album’s shining point and find themselves right after one another near the album’s end. “Ativan,” a brand name of the generic drug lorazepam best known for treating anxiety, is the album’s most tender track. But it’s not quite a love song, with The Lumineers more restrained in their lyricism than usual. Addressed to the anti-anxiety drug, the track ruminates on the use of benzodiazepines, featuring a maturity in the song’s lack of judgement. The band has experimented with intense themes before, but never in a way that feels so applicable to the world today.
The album’s rawness lends itself perfectly to “Keys on the Table.” Lyrics like “And honestly, I feel ashamed to breathe / I can’t believe we lost to the machine” are dismal, accompanied by a barren soundscape that captures the uninhibited rawness of Schultz’s voice. Their music is made striking and honest by its simple production, and this is where The Lumineers manage to charm listeners: They put everything on the table, so the simplicity doesn’t feel like a production ploy. Over the course of a 20-year career, they have mastered this approach.
The album’s complexity continues in “Better Day,” whose hopeful name disguises a distinct unenthusiasm about the state of the world. The song captures numerous elements of the 21st century: insider trading by government officials, police violence and a failing economy. The song is a powerful affirmation of The Lumineers’ genesis as an Americana band. Capturing the zeitgeist of the period inevitably requires a confrontation with the issues plaguing the country.
Preceded by the hopeful musical interlude “Sunflowers,” “So Long” is the album’s closer and a powerful one at that. Painting a vivid picture of what it means to lose hope in the modern age, the song employs a number of religious allusions to illustrate a need for salvation from the monotony of everyday life.
“Automatic” by The Lumineers, in all of its honesty, only obfuscates the limits of what the band is willing to explore in their songs. The album is more blunt than anything they’ve previously released and bravely disentangles itself from the narrative devices used in former works. This time, it’s The Lumineers and The Lumineers alone on stage and represented in their lyrics. Imbued with an emotional richness and lacking an elaborate marketing plan, the band’s fifth studio album is the deeply authentic work that the music industry has seen little of in recent years.
