Unlike either its predecessor or 2001's , didn't appear after a prolonged period of silence from . It arrived in November of 2019, nearly exactly four years after , a rapid turnaround that recalls 's work schedule as a bandleader and producer in the 1970s and '80s. That's not the only way conjures memories of the past. From the spaceship hovering on its record cover to the song title "Sci-Fi Woman" stirring up the ghost of "Evil Woman," the album is designed to sound and feel like an album from the late 1970s. That was true of too, but makes that album seem fresher in retrospect. Here, there is no clever embrace of digital technology or even nods to disco: it's all immaculate orchestrated pop punctuated with some old-time rock & roll. Listen not too closely and it may be possible to mistake these tunes for outtakes from or , since they have a similar pomp lushness. Listen a bit closer and the seams emerge. As elegant as they are, the melodies don't easily lodge in the subconscious, but the bigger problem is that the production -- by , who plays virtually every note on the record -- is airless and precise. This dryness is a remnant of the digital age, where every element in a recording is exactly in the right place, and if it's not quite a drawback, it does mean can be a bit of an uncanny valley: it's close enough to a genuine item to satisfy, yet different enough to disarm. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine