John Grant
's music has grown increasingly ambitious and contemplative since
Grey Tickles, Black Pressure
, and
Boy from Michigan
is no exception. Reflecting on his early years growing up in the Mitten State and then in Colorado, he examines the complexities of family, memories, and the United States in songs that combine lyrics with a memoirist's eye for detail and music that echoes the tension between past and present with classic '70s singer/songwriter sounds and abstract electronics. Working with
Cate Le Bon
,
Grant
uses the softer side of his previous album,
Love Is Magic
, as the starting point for
's dreamy sounds and harsh truths. On the eerily poignant title track, images of merry-go-rounds and apple trees give way to throbbing,
John Carpenter
-esque synths as
reveals the album's credo: "The American dream is not for weak, soft-hearted fools." Later, the clarinet on "The Cruise Room" morphs from cheesy to romantic to match the "pink Art Deco glow" of a hotel bar on
's last night in Denver. More-personal songs such as these and "Just So You Know"'s smoky redeclaration of love are among the album's best, especially when
takes on the good and bad memories of childhood. For every luminous recollection like "County Fair," there's "The Rusty Bull," a menacing flashback to
's youth that still haunts him, or "Dandy Star," where his early feelings of being an outsider -- and a viewing of the
Mia Farrow
horror movie See No Evil -- make him yearn for an escape from his everyday nightmares. Though
is some of his most writerly work, this doesn't detract from the emotional heft of songs such as "Mike and Julie," a touching if blunt remembrance of his complicated relationship with two of his closest teenage friends. And while
still excels at bringing listeners into his soundworlds, sometimes
tips over the line between expansive and indulgent. "The Only Baby," a spacey yet scathing manifesto against American imperialism, capitalism, and prejudice from the nation's founding all the way up to Trump, loses some of its impact as it stretches out to nearly ten minutes. Similarly,
's balance of soul-baring and trademark wit feels somewhat off-kilter this time, and the shift in tone from the album's confessions to "Your Portfolio"'s fiscal and sexual innuendos and the sapiosexual new wave of "Rhetorical Figure" is more than a little jarring. Despite its occasional uneven moments,
is a frequently brilliant album from a gifted stylist and songwriter who never stops challenging himself or his audience. ~ Heather Phares