((((ultraSOUND))))
Well, it's no wonder why The Neighbourhood released this album so damn discreetly. I wouldn’t want anyone to hear it either. By all means, (((((ultraSOUND))))) won’t be a chart-topping record. The severe lack of PR, obnoxiously unsearchable name, and, of course, the contents all guarantee this fact. As said by Andy Steiner for Paste, “Have you heard that The Neighbourhood, the band behind the fourth most-streamed song of all time, released a new album? If not, I don’t blame you. The album is called Ultrasound, bafflingly stylized as (((((ultraSOUND))))) though I couldn’t tell you why. Maybe they’re masochists and reveled in the thought of listeners groaning at the title. Maybe they hoped those ten parentheses would grab the record some attention—but it’s not like anyone saw them in the first place.” It's almost funny - especially for a record that flaunts its own name in out-of-place adlibs between songs and verses - something that feels totally weird for not only the genre, but the nature of the record.
The Neighbourhood’s glory days truly are among the most reputable in the indie genre. With over half a dozen songs with billions of streams each as part of 3-4 wildly successful records, we all have some amount of Neighbourhood nostalgia. In some sense, I often feel bands with ridiculously successful répertoires are at an unfair disadvantage. Their new work will always be compared to their past. Some artists simply won’t live up to that level again. Others will morph into a new genre. Evolve. Grow. I try to not let my own nostalgia get in the way of appreciating a band’s development, even if that means abandoning what they once did so well. I try to avoid saying that a group has “fallen off” just because they haven’t duplicated the magic recipe they found once or twice over a decade ago. I try to be open. But The Neighbourhood has truly regressed.
You just can’t help but feel like The Neighbourhood has their tail in between their legs on (((((ultraSOUND))))). It's almost like… Jessie Rutherford publicly groomed Billie Eilish? And it's almost like… they reinstalled Brandon Fried? Yes, the drummer that was kicked out in 2022 after being called out by María Zardoya (The Marías frontwoman) for sexual assault. Naturally, there is an air of shame. It breeds underperformance. The band sounds like a scolded child (rightfully so), staying within the boundaries on these songs. They feel far away from us. I can’t find a trace of soul in a single track on the record. The record is meant to be about the band’s personal struggles, but we don’t get any closer to them. The writing is vague. Nothing is bold or daring. (((((ultraSOUND))))) has just enough signature intriguing basslines to peak our interest, but nothing that adds new dimensions to the band.
Private and Planet (only the chorus, really - that first “You used to find me so attractive” verse is violently ick-inducing) seem to offer the only two glimpses of something worth-while in the record. Something eye-catching. Attention-grabbing. Something that snaps you out of the swamp of drowned-out strings of the rest of the album. These aren’t to say they come anywhere near to the band’s earlier tracks, but they offer something that resembles what they used to do well - their hooks, to be specific. But you only have to listen to the misplaced tension and poorly coordinated vocals on Lil Ol Me to get a sense of the awkwardness that embodies the rest of the album. Even tracks intended to feel big and sad fall flat due to their unshakable sense of inauthenticity. Songs like Crushed and Mute offer no meaningful storytelling substance while Stupid Boy feels like a clumsy Matty Healy impersonation. Rutherford sounds like he simply, truly cannot be bothered. His heart is not in this project. Vocal production is spotty in multiple places, and, while certain instrumental interludes are the saving grace to this record, the majority of production is profoundly underwhelming.
From bringing back the upside down house to the color palette to the revival of their 2010’s sound to the Mama Drama follow-up to Daddy Issues, this album lands uncomfortably between old and new. They aren’t entirely attempting to revamp their old era, but they also aren’t letting it lay to rest. We are thus not able to live out our nostalgia nor shown anything new. We feel nothing, because Rutherford doesn’t seem to. Why should we care about this project if the band doesn’t?
It is ironic, above all else, to think about how the band solidified their success in 2018 with an album whose very name would predict/foresee their downfall: Hard To Imagine The Neighbourhood Ever Changing. If only The Neighbourhood endeavored to channel their talent in a fresh new direction, they would garner the support of not only myself but surely countless others. Their fanbase and talent is strong enough to support them through more musical risk-taking. But what their fanbase and talent should not have to endure is a slow death. Chasing the highs of the past, the band is left sounding somewhere between too comfortable and desperate to revive something that is long-gone.
