The Singles Jukebox

We really like these Monsters!

[Video]
[6.62]Katherine St Asaph: I’d associated Of Monsters and Men with Mumfordy twee for the past decade-or-so, so hearing a surging ’80s synth power ballad was a pleasant surprise. It only surges 75% of the way, that 75% is not remotely new (nor is an alternative band going synthpop at this stage in their career), and the title conceit was done better by Britta Persson. But pleasant is pleasant, and there’s enough here — the overbusy guitar in the background, the rapidfire lyrics that launch the chorus with forward momentum, the crinkles and glottal stops in Nanna’s voice reminiscent of another Persson — that’s more.
[7]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: I dig how serious the whole thing is: the drums have a sloppy-yet-tight groove, the guitar melodies are sparse but focused, and everything layers on top of one another in a beautiful way. Nanna Bryndís Hilmarsdóttir’s vocals are direct and determined, doing their best to make you fall for the song’s night-drive aesthetics. That the song ends with emotive coos reveals the emotional underbelly that was there all along. I wish we heard more of them.
[6]

Iain Mew: There’s no way for the mismatched doomy imagery throughout to combine comfortably with the straightforward lines at the end of the chorus about becoming a visitor at your old family home. In another song, those might take on an extra chilling edge. In this one, where everything sounds so clean and pristine and goth-lite, the reverse happens, and all the ghosts and drownings take on a weird domesticity. The result is no less strange, and gives the song what power it has to break through its timidity.
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Thomas Inskeep: Wait, when did these boring folkie revivalists become Florence and the Machine manqué? I’m not mad, mind you; this has some much-needed rhythm and thrust in the best 1985 synth-pop fashion.
[6]

Alfred Soto: I’ve no idea what OM&M are on about but they must have thought “lol ’80s” worked as an operating principle.
[5]

Samson Savill de Jong: I’m a slut for these drums.
[8]

Hannah Jocelyn: My first instinct was to ask: Where did this come from? But with Of Monsters and Men, it was always there, albeit buried under layers of Where The Wild Things Are imagery. I liked “Alligator” from their last record but that was clearly a set up for “Visitor.” It’s the bigger, more ambitious song they’ve tried to write since “Crystals” was barely edgy enough for a low-tier Pixar trailer. After Soul, an intimate domestic drama from the studio feels plausible provided it’s set in space or something, so OMAM has that trailer sync locked up too. To me it feels like the couple from “Little Talks” stayed together this whole time: she’s still losing control of herself, he’s gone from co-leading to just quietly watching her spiral. Ragnar Þórhallsson doesn’t even contribute anything individually until he whispers “please stop, you’re doing this again” to Nanna in the outro, and the way they go back and forth without resolution is devastating. (The marital strife and the drum sound make this a better National song than most of I Am Easy To Find, and at least three songs on Evermore too.) They’re still growing into this sound — the triadic harmonies on “I was incapable” feel a little too clean for something this genuinely dark — but Of Monsters and Men is a rare post-Mumford band still trying new things and finding hidden depths.
[8]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Last year I spent a lot of time driving a 2003 Toyota Corolla with a tape deck, a single disc cd player, and an FM radio. As such, I listened to a lot of alt rock radio. In between the Billie Eilish/”Mood”/90s rock trifecta that dominates the format, they played a lot of tracks that sounded just like this, but worse. The drums were just a little bit looser, the faux-cryptic lyrics a little less compelling. They didn’t play “Visitor,” which is probably just a comment on how slow moving the format is, but I can imagine it playing twice an hour on 105.3. I’d turn it up every time, even if not much about it sticks in the mind after it leaves you. It’s the perfect disposable alt rock song, all hooks and portents without any great expectations.
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