Sometimes pushing the envelope means pulling it back a little. When crafting the newest of new, alternative music is all about innovation and experimentation. The xx have found virtue in dulling the cutting edge a little bit. Their simplified yet polished sound capitalizes on its absence just as much as its presence. Anticlimaxes have never been so satisfying.
While The xx shyly deflect any notion of categorization, their music can best be described as laid-back meditations that tangentially approach “grooves.” Stylistically, the intimate back-and-forth that’s at the forefront of this album works well over the clean canvas of a drum machine. The xx artfully take you from crisp to airy and back again with the utmost attention to the subtlety of this progression.
xx is an album best listened to in the dark — it dabbles in the melancholy, but thankfully not contagiously. The record’s lyrics exemplify quintessential late-night musings and in doing so provide the perfect soundtrack to a large variety of existential moments. The band’s emotive tendencies are by no means burdensome and instead demonstrate a wisdom and clarity of introspection not typically found in people who have only spent two decades on this planet.
The album’s only question (the dreamlike opening of “Fantasy”) quickly redeems itself with a deep, pulsating beat. Those with an aversion to musical subtlety should stick to “Crystalised” — the closest thing this album has to a hit. Otherwise, The xx masterfully meanders along the border of introversion and extroversion with admirable consistency, alternatively inducing head nods of satisfaction and understanding along the way.
