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The Tufts Daily
Where you read it first | Tuesday, April 16, 2024

Imagine Dragons lacks imagination on disappointing sophomore attempt

a225_Imagine-Dragons
Dan Reynolds succeeds with soft harmonies and flounders with shout-singing on many tracks of "Smoke + Mirrors."

Imagine Dragons have never really been a band to stand out. Even when they shot to fame after “It’s Time” (2012) was featured on the twee-indie masterpiece “The Perks of Being a Wallflower”(2012), they never managed to distinguish themselves as the least wallflowery of the wallflower bands in their composite grouping of genres (alt-rock, indie rock, stadium rock) -- categories that require constant showing-off to stay on fans' radars.

Every lyric feels stale on the Nevada band’s sophomoric album “Smoke + Mirrors” (2015), released on Feb. 17. If there is anything more frustrating than a talentless band reaching success, it is seeing a band with some semblance of talent fail to utilize nearly any of what led them to their success, instead choosing to abandon their distinctive style in favor of more challenging musical motifs that they have not been able to master.

The track listing of “Smoke + Mirrors” could be the first stanza of a poem of a downcast 7th grader: “Shots/Gold/Smoke and Mirrors/I’m So Sorry.” Repeat, cry. “Dream/Trouble/Summer.” Repeat, cry. Conclude with “Hopeless Opus” and “Fall.” Reapply your eyeliner and feel sorry for yourself, because that’s what Imagine Dragons is doing.

“Shots” opens with awkward pacing and instrumentation that is too layered to sound cohesive. The drums beat half a count too slow for the collective instrumentation, while the lyrics are shrilly sung. Next.

“Gold” jolts awkwardly from its beginning. With slow clapping and lyrics like “You can’t tell the false from the real,” this sad excuse for a Midas metaphor fails to move anyone. Next.

Trying and failing to take on the power chord-age and amp-age of fellow Las Vegas native rockers, The Killers, Imagine Dragons feels entirely out of their depth on “I’m So Sorry.” For about 30 seconds in the middle during a bridge, the band finds their footing in a slower-paced harmonizing section. But returning to the yell-singing that lead singer Dan Reynolds simply cannot pull off, the band aggressively shoves hackneyed phrases down the throats of listeners. Singing the lyrics, “I’m so sorry,” repeatedly, the band seems to be apologizing for the album. One hopes that they are; an apology feels requisite.

The hand-clapping, foot-stomping call and response method of singing on “I Bet My Life” that was so effective for the band on their hit “It’s Time” (2012) is the only part of the album that feels like it could actually hold musical merit. With African rhythms and tempos, the song is positively joyful, exuberant and fun. Smile and enjoy the brief interlude, more misplaced guitar solos are yet to come.

The problem with the album isn't the band’s inability to try but rather their inability to connect. There is nothing beneath their lyrics to stir a response in the audience besides a fist pump (a tired one at that), and there is no apparent emotion behind all of those shout-yell-scream lyrics of stadium rock. Imagine Dragons have learned the tricks to producing easy cookie-cutter alt-rock singles, and now they’re phoning it in, batting their eyelashes at their 18-24 demographic based audience hoping no one is listening closely enough to see that their efforts are as transparent as Saran Wrap.

“Smoke + Mirrors” makes fine background music for housekeeping or an afternoon of baking, but will grate after a mere 30 seconds of attentive listening to the “Hoo, Ha!” #foreveryoung-ness that overpowers the LP.

Imagine Dragons only succeeds when it doesn't really try to do anything at all. Thus, when they create an album that is entirely strung together with trite phrases and cliched themes, borrowing from every other popular alt-rock source out there while trying overtly to sound deep and brooding, their work becomes the fodder for jokes. The album itself is an illusion, a bundle of smoke and mirrors that Imagine Dragons is trying to throw at fans and critics alike in order to send the message: “Look at us, we’re hardcore! We’re musicians! We’re intense!”

Wait for the band to grow up before you give them any of the attention they’re begging for so desperately with this album.

Summary Imagine Dragons have learned the tricks to producing easy cookie cutter alt-rock singles and now they’re phoning it in, batting their eyelashes at their 18-24 demographic based audience, hoping no one is listening closely enough to see that their efforts are as transparent as Saran Wrap.
1.5 Stars