Review: Spoon- Transference

John Peel once said of the Fall that they are ‘always different, always the same’ and the same can be said of Spoon. Despite on the face of it being a fairly standard alternative rock act, over the past seventeen years Spoon have consistently showed off their excellent craftsmanship and production abilities. Their failure to diversify into different styles has never been an issue; each album has built on the previous, tweaking little bits here and there but never with any wholesale change. Britt Daniel always keeps the ship upright and while contemporaries have diverged Spoon have been a constant. Perhaps the biggest shock given this then is that Spoon have not tired, the release of Transference still holds excitement even if I know what’s coming. The joy is the intrigue rather than the surprise. Spoon are the proof that sustaining a long career neither relies on constant mediocrity or pointless change and although never finding mainstream success they seem to consistently provide comfort and surprise in equal measure for their loyal fan base.

While 2005’s Gimme Fiction was the album of exuberant joy (at least in terms of Spoon), Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga was a return to sublime understatement. Gimme Fiction provided thrills and spills on the first listen while Ga Ga was the slow burner; a more introspective but ultimately more rewarding endeavour. Transference is closer to the latter than the former while still the result of the subtle evolution which Spoon have become known for. It probably doesn’t quite hit the heights of the previous album though every time I’ve listened so far I find something new and intriguing. I’ve played the whole thing through about ten times and have found increased enjoyment each time it is plays, who knows? It could be better than Ga Ga.

Although opener Before destruction is fairly standard in terms of the band, Is love forever? is where production trickery really comes to the forefront. The vocals seem more pronounced and the vibrato vocal is captivating, sitting somewhere in-between melody and rhythm it has an understated charm. Every Spoon album seems to have one track which deviates from the rest, the one track which most other bands could base a whole career around. On Ga Ga it was the ethereal The ghost of you lingers, Transference’s equivalent is The mystery zone, creating groove through repetition, with bass high in the mix, the result is some kind of subdued funk. If you didn’t know Spoon better you could almost dance to this. Who makes your money is similar but more restrained however the album then makes somewhat of a turn.

The next few songs are a return to a more familiar style; the album picks up pace and when Britt Daniel growls ‘I’m not standing here’ it seems a metaphor for the album. Anticipation is built through repetitive guitar riffs and the music progresses in terms of feel and tempo. It’s an easy trap to confuse earnestness with passion and one which Spoon sometime play with. However, they seem to consistently reach the limit and pull back; the best example of this is on ‘I saw the light’, whilst being somewhat of a slow burner it refuses to explode and is all the better for it. So often subtlety is used as a byword for blandness however in Spoon’s case subtle is what they do best.

When Transference enters its third act it becomes somewhat more accessible; they’ve earned their right to let loose a little and they carry it out in style. The final tracks on the album seem to rely less on production and the composition shows a more natural ear for melody. Trouble comes running and Got nuffin are highly infectious preventing the album from becoming overly introspective. Final track nobody gets me but you provides a perfect epilogue to the album seeming like an amalgamation of all the styles and interests of the previous ten tracks.

Transference may not be the best work of Britt Daniel and co. but that can hardly be a criticism. Showing an ability to grow and evolve without altering the core values of your music is no mean feat for a band celebrating their seventh album. Neither is creating eleven understated gems and there is not a single duff track on this album. As a result the initial inaccessibility of the album is rewarded with further listens, its flow is one of its greater benefits and the use of repetition really allows it get under your skin. We’re only two weeks into 2010 however I’d be surprised if this isn’t there or there abouts in the end of year best of lists.