The Weekly Coos

The Greatest Love sees London Grammar finding themselves more curiously positive and enjoyable pop. It’s blending into what is already unique and substantive—a modest shift from the heavily textured atmosphere of Californian Soil—sometimes you notice they matured past a comfort zone. They find a nice niche spot where all the concoctions connect and you get some compelling music, even some of the better tracks, but much of that emanates from the heights taken by lead singer Hannah Reid. It adds a much-needed layer to the music and can help find a good median with the instrumentals that the simple synths just feel like a faint gloss. However, there are moments, when they can surprise you with what they create when it’s not centered in their zone. It’s evident from the moment “House,” the opening track starts pushing itself above the fray with kinetic but simple synths, but you get the sense of what’s being revealed through the tones and emotions as they find a new place mentally as artists. It’s reflected in their production, both the bad and the good; they feel elevated even when they tread toward the occasional comfort zone.

London Grammar are like many bands that heavily focus on synths as a foundational piece that separates from other instruments in the production, especially as they help manipulate any emotional direction they take. They don’t circumvent to make it easier, that’s a given, but when you hear something like the acoustics of “Fakest Bitch,” or the rich pop-heavy “Rescue” where Hannah Reid’s vocals become pronounced and extensive, and it isn’t always something in this route, there can be modest disappointment. However, these tracks may still fish themselves around themselves into your rotation, but that shouldn’t be a negative, as the album becomes self-aware through it. The tracks “LA” and “The Greatest Love” have more sizzle than “Ordinary Life” and “You And I,” which lean too heavily on the atmosphere that the impact doesn’t feel the same. Though that’s a common stance for them, they are trying to retake new approaches to the music, allowing that positivity to shine through. It’s what makes “House” and “Santa Fe” distinguishing standouts; they embrace it, like the confidence in the former, and the cooling acceptance of a quiet and bright light in life, in California. Yet, they still deliver bleak themes too.

As Reid noted on the official web store, “I love the fact that I can walk down the street and nobody knows who I am – and yet we can fill huge spaces with people who love our music.” It’s like knowing how to connect the dots without sounding boring or redundant. Fortunately, Tim Bran isn’t keeping it too streamlined as a co-producer, allowing some detachment from similar cadences off their debut album, If You Wait. Reid is a key component, but without production that gets her vocals, these tracks won’t have the same impact as the lyric writing. It’s subjective in that we only know what we know, and it’s about the delivery and how it can be parsed beyond the music. It’s why a track like “Into Gold” can carry immense weight as it uses unique allusions and imagery about certain ideas as she does so with the idea of mourning loss here. She’s dark and directly, uncharacteristically cheeky with my favorite track, “Fakest Bitch,” which sees her reflecting on certain types of people who scorned to scorn without reason. It is a microcosm of greatness that is constantly shining through the crevices.

It’s safe to say this isn’t my favorite album by London Grammar, but the highs have remained memorable. There is something to Hannah Reid’s performances that elevate the production’s impact further, especially when the unique aren’t game changers, instead finding a soft spot in the middle where the median is worth the price of admission. It’s why tracks like “House” and “Rescue” bear some middling directness in the synths, but there is a reserve that allows them to have this overarching and dominating presence. Tim Bran and George Fitzgerald help them mold this sound to make it feel renewed despite cornering itself with safe barriers. Reid’s vocals are the only part cracking and allowing us to see something different and that’s the real captivating factor. It hits you immediately with the catchiness that doesn’t feel manufactured and is more in tune with who they are as artists. It makes the journey you take with them seem empowering and rewarding, even when it doesn’t carry the complexities one yearns for, especially after the fantastic Californian Soil. I still recommend it, even for those who aren’t fans, but that understanding adds great parallels to make one relate to the lyrics.