More autumn woes for the angsty soul
Another eerily constructed album by Tim Cohen to join our fall collection of darker tunes, The Modern World doesn’t tread lightly. Cohen, a singer who has consistently produced vulnerable surf rock and folk ballads, seamlessly interweaving with previous work, yet again relinquishes his heart and what he believes to be the heart of the masses.
Beginning with a more upbeat angst, reminiscent of early 2000s Strokes guitar riffs, “I Don’t Wear Gold” speaks of wanting to be buried in a riverbed, as one contemplates the intricacies of one’s mind trying to come to terms with the dark reality of the world. “Goodness” and “Shape of Light” bring more positive vibes into the equation with lively trumpets, a chill synth beat and organ sounds which remind listeners of the simple joy of livin’ life. “Shape of Light” talks about visiting one’s former home, “where the memories that shaped you cave to the shape of light.” Cohen asks, “does it mean that somebody’s gonna’ mistake you for the light?” which surely many can relate to hoping for. Following is “Say the Word,” which illustrates the pull between being an individual mockingbird and wanting to join the flock that is “waiting for you.”
Countering the more fanciful songs, “Sleeping in the Bathroom,” “Sycamore” and “He Must Be Dead” invoke darker, spookier feelings of one “hiding in the floorboards,” wanting to be “sent to the lord” and “laying the devil” in one’s bed. Just in time for Halloween, many songs on this record will likely grace playlists galore.
Filled with oohs and woahs, the apprehension of living daily life, which Cohen is no stranger to writing about, emanates from “I’m a Girl,” “Go Seagull” and “Child of Divorce.” In the first song, he takes on the role of women in their many social roles, which he believes lead to their cries “all the livelong day.” The latter two, however, he cries as a man who just wants to be left alone, hoping for trust and faith in love and in life.
Altogether, the songs on this album are decent enough but seem to lack in originality. The woeful hipster angst of a white man may have been refreshing at one time, but the act is becoming a bit banal and tiresome. However, if Cohen’s listeners are still looking for this somewhat grim, analogous work, then they should look no further.
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