I wrote about 'I like it when you sleep, for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it' a while ago and now it's time to cover The 1975 again. This time it's the follow-up, 2018's A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships'. I've already made it clear that The 1975 are one of my favourite bands and although I didn't immediately fall in love with this album, it has ended up being as beloved as the ones that came before. I definitely spent a lot of time getting excited about it, following the slow drip of singles between June 1st and the album's eventual release on November 30th, which I think caused my initial disappointment - they put out all of the most accessible songs in the build-up to the album so the first time I listened to it, I was looking for more hits and what I got was something else. That said, I quickly learned to love it and saw them about half a dozen times when they toured it. I own the album on CD, cassette and vinyl, and for reviewing purposes I chose to spin the record, seen below with the ABIIOR-era memorabilia that still hangs next to my turntable.
1. The 1975 π’
The album opens very softly with Matty playing the piano and feeling his way in to the familiar intro piece. It's different to the first two albums, less formal, and feels less like a song than ever. My attachment to it is as a live show opener, lyrics projected on screen with an arena joining in with every word, including the (JUMP) backing vocal, and laughing at the sudden atonal chord midway through. It doesn't make sense outside of the context of album/show opener but I don't suppose it needs to.
2. Give Yourself A Try π
I've written lovingly about Give Yourself A Try already so I won't go into detail again but it makes me so happy. I'm writing almost exactly 3 years to the day since it debuted and I'm not bored of it yet. It's a rush of sugary pop punk joy, a perfect way to kick off the album. In the context of ABIIOR it introduces us to Matty Healy's mental state in 2018 - he's still a bit neurotic and his brain is bouncing from one thing to another in quick succession, but we have optimism and wisdom shining through alongside the drug references and self-deprecation.
A calm intro to build up to Matty spitting out a list of everything that was in the news between 2016-18. The song is the sequel to Loving Someone that became a critical favourite rather than a cult one - Matty covers immigration, the Trump presidency, climate change, celebrity, racism... It's a time capsule of cultural horror with the hopeful chorus "I'd love it if we made it" to break up the relentless staccato beat and barrage of references, the aural equivalent of doom-scrolling. 3 years on, do I think we've made it? America changed presidents so maybe a little, but there's a still a lot of work to do.
In sharp contrast to Love It If We Made It, we move on to a little acoustic ballad, something intimate rather than world-spanning. This song features the hallmark of the modern 1975 sound that I like least - the ever-present tinkle of piano keys that don't seem to have any relation to the song itself, as if Matty is playing the song to you while someone else is noodling away to themselves in the background. I don't hate this song, in fact it's perfectly pleasant, but there are a few lyrics in it that I find horrible: "the smell of your hair reminds me of her feet", "you do make me hard, but she makes me weak"... I could do without those.
Something jazzy next; a song with a trumpet part. Matty performs this live while on a treadmill so I associate this song with walking and his movements. The lyrics are mostly better here than the last song but that line about putting off conceiving isn't for me. Sincerity Is Scary is a sort of break-up song, a realisation that two people aren't compatible, but he's swapped the bitchy sarcasm of A Change Of Heart for an attempt at sincerity. I like the spoken bit at the end where Matty calls another girl a 'sket', the most Northern English insult that I can think of.
This, for me, is the highlight of the album. The way the beat bounces and Matty desperately throws out the lines as if performing an exorcism on himself, again through the vocoder effect. It plays like a stream-of-consciousness ramble, dancing vaguely around the concepts of youth and the future and fear. It sounds urgent and panicked and those are often my favourite The 1975 songs (see also: The Ballad Of Me And My Brain).
Here we have a combination of ambient piano with Siri narrating a story over the top. It's a vaguely sinister monologue about a life lived online, filled with jarring descriptions of things we perceive as normal, like the description of food delivery apps as "he would get him cooked animals" or online gaming as "playing games with children at home with their parents". Then there's the more worrying parts, like that the internet would "always, always agree with him. This was the man's favourite". Giving the tale to a virtual assistant is a more effective way to tell this story than simply having Matty sing about it - taking out the human bias makes the whole thing so much sadder.
The instrumental part used to be played in the arena for 10 minutes before the band came on stage so I find it hard to separate it from the feelings of anticipation and the jostling for position in the crowd. If you can ignore that though, it's a nice soothing sound after I Like America.
This is the most underrated song on the album - I've never seen them play it live and it rarely gets talked about. Big, deliberate piano chords and drums provide a crisp contrast to the noodling heard earlier and Matty croons the lyrics without layers of effects. The lack of synthy experimentation lends this the air of a traditional pop song and as a result, it stands out. Lyrically it's about opening your girlfriend's skull to read her thoughts about you, which is less traditional, but I love it as a concept. The vocal line is delivered in a calm and measured way while delivering borderline psychotic lyrics like "maybe I will wait until you're fast asleep, dreaming things I have the right to see. Maybe you are dreaming that you're in love with me, the only option left is look and see inside your mind". There's something about this song, maybe the clarity of the sound, that reminds me of dusk on a crisp Autumn-Winter day in the city centre, the twinkling of Christmas lights in the windows of shops that are beginning to close for the day and the promise of a cosy evening ahead. It's one of my favourites.
11. It's Not Living (If It's Not With You) π
It's Not Living is the most traditional the 1975 song on the album, in that it's a big 80s-influenced pop song. It has a huge catchy chorus with dark themes (the 'you' is heroin). I love the guitar part, the vocal harmonies, the brightness that masks the horror - it's one of the first songs I would play to someone who loves classic pop music but hasn't heard The 1975 yet. And of course, it has one of their most meme-able moments in "selling petrol".
Again with the acoustic guitar punctuated by random bits of noise, as if there's someone tuning up the other instruments in the studio while Matty lays this track down. I prefer Surrounded By Heads And Bodies to Be My Mistake; it's apparently an ode to a friend made in rehab rather than a romance. The bass and muted drums are a nice touch when they come in midway through. Again it's a decent song and I like hearing it, it just doesn't shine as much as the others.
The second jazzy song now, which opens with what sounds like a wood instrument trying and failing to get in tune - probably the worst sound on the album aside from those cringey lyrics. Soon enough though we get some luscious piano and a love song that sounds like something out of an old Hollywood musical. There's a little modernity - "I fight crime online sometimes", not wanting to get married - but it's the most classic and easy-listening they've ever sounded. It's very sweet.
The bass and synthetic keys in this sound so 90s power ballad. I don't know the name for this keyboard sound - could it be emulating an organ? - but go listen and you'll know exactly what I mean. Matty can't sing like CΓ©line Dion or Michael Bolton but this song still works, from the earnest lyrics to the guitar solo. It's retro, but in a totally different way to Mine. One thing that's noticeable here and elsewhere on the album is Matty's softness - he sings a lot of the songs in a timid, vulnerable soft voice now, compared to the confident and at times incomprehensible indie boy yodel of the first album.
A poignant closing number that has shades of Busted - it's bordering on boyband, if boybands did big ballads about coping with suicidal thoughts. Again, it's soft, but it soars with strings and big drums and acoustic guitar chords. I think it's a good choice of final track for the album. It ends with a little string coda to close the curtain on A Brief Inquiry..., an interval between it and its sister album, 2020's Notes On A Conditional Form.
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