After a nearly three-year hiatus, California-based band The Neighbourhood released their fifth studio album “(((((ultraSOUND)))))” on Nov. 14. Branded by the virality of their 2012 song “Sweater Weather,” the fourth most-streamed song of all time on Spotify. Attempting to return to their Tumblr-grunge roots, The Neighbourhood’s newest release, with a total of 15 tracks, falls short of creating a simultaneously nostalgic and fresh sound.
On Halloween, the five-member group re-released an updated version of their 2015 album “Wiped Out!,” featuring new songs and collaborations. The anniversary release comprised much of the marketing for the new album, on top of three singles and a tour announcement. Following controversies surrounding vocalist Jesse Rutherford’s former relationship with Billie Eilish, as well as drummer Brandon Fried’s return to the band after allegations of sexual misconduct, the record’s limited promotion feels unsurprising.
The title “(((((ultraSOUND))))),” with all of its 10 parentheses, suggests a sound so immersive it would emulate the womb. The opener, “Hula Girl,” doesn’t provide the intense entrance one may hope for from an album with such a title. Instead, it introduces the album’s vulnerable, sometimes desperate lyrics and the dream-pop sound embraced throughout the rest of the record.
“Dashboard hula girl, honey / Come and treat me like a crash-test dummy,” Rutherford sings.
The next three songs, “OMG,” “Lovebomb” and “Private,” came out as singles 22 days before the album. “OMG” starts quickly, similar to “Hula Girl,” supplying familiar musings that border on self-loathing. In “Lovebomb,” a female voice emerges in the first 15 seconds to say “he’s a musician” and returns later in the record to say more obvious things like the name of the band, song or album. “Private” stands out among the trio with its thumping bass from bassist Mikey Margott and an effortful vocal performance from Rutherford.
From then on, the album maintains a similar sound and mood throughout: repetitive drumming stuffed with reverb, watery guitar solos from guitarists Jeremy Freedman and Zach Abels and a general psychedelic tone from producer Jono Dorr. The most nostalgic aspect is Rutherford’s sweet and clear voice, which only deviates from his familiar tenor to shout a bit in “Daisy Chain” and the closer, “Stupid Boy.”
A few tracks attempt to shift the album’s stagnant energy. “Lil Ol Me” relies on a grittier bassline and feels inspired by the shoegaze genre, as does “Zombie,” which employs the same desperate and confessional lyricism but with an angrier delivery.
“Love me, hug me, save me / Hate me, break me, degrade me / Pay me and change me to what you want,” Rutherford said. “Use me. Accuse me. Abuse me.”
While these tracks stand out, they do not experiment enough to subvert expectations. As each song plays, it feels like the album draws inspiration solely from itself or the previous albums that came before it. Perhaps drawing from sources outside themselves and what made the band famous could have produced a more original sound.
Overall, “(((((ultraSOUND)))))” manages to impress simply because The Neighbourhood’s members are good at using their instruments. While delivering a base level of quality, the album fails to make something worth returning to over and over, unlike the band’s older work.
2 Daddy Issues out of 5
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