Uninteresting and unlistenable

In the crowded field of stomp-clap folk music in the early 2010s, Judah and the Lion stood out for all the wrong reasons with their accurately titled Folk Hop N’ Roll, a genre pile-up that played to the strengths of none of its ingredients. They thankfully cut out the rapping on their sophomore album Pep Talks, but doubled down on hip-hop and pop progressions that did not have the swagger or smoothness to work. Choosing Revival as an album title promises a new direction, but the only thing it delivers is an average retread of what came before with none of the horrible lowlights and no additional highlights.

Here is the deadliest of double-edge swords; while lead vocalist Judah Akers has stopped with the horrible stiff rapping, he’s kept the painful layered, rousing shouting that sounds unnatural and lacks any warmth or power to back up its volume. Instead of drawing interest to certain strong emotions, it drains the listener when used on nearly every song, especially on the final three tracks, which repeatedly hit the same musical and lyrical note. Let’s not forget the autotune on “Revival,” which in theory can add to an unstable state but instead is used to sing, “Do I need to die / To find revival?” which almost no singer could make compelling.

Understandably, the band keeps using the overblown sing-along technique because without it on songs like “Landslide,” Judah proves he’s incapable of carrying a piece on his own with a totally forgettable and anonymous performance with too much pitch correction. There’s nothing as awkward as the weird dance beats of “Dance With Ya” that he did not have the pop sensibility to ride or the angst overload of “Over My Head” that asked him to be Tyler Joseph and failed, but Akers still does not impress even in what should be his most comfortable territory.

If the delivery is bombastic, the lyrics must be more thoughtful than this. “Suit and Jacket” was the one time the music and lyrics felt dramatic enough to dissect the transition from teenage freedom to adult responsibility to justify its overly portentous delivery. “Take a Walk” and “Landslide” traverse the same ground and feels like a pale imitation, and themes about soul-searching and looking for meaning in “Revival” on “Find Another Way” lack catharsis by not detailing enough specific difficulties and only engaging in the abstract. There’s nothing as befuddling as “Take it All Back” or ignorant as “Beautiful Anyway,” but there’s even less to dissect or mull over.

The one lyrical highlight is “Blue Eyes,” which is a tribute to a late grandfather. Outright mentioning Chick-fil-a is a mistake that equates specifying brands with world-building rather than wasting time and breaking immersion. Otherwise, it’s full of endearing moments that paint the deceased as a charming rabble-rouser, which could be silly yet was still profoundly spiritual. It’s also the moment where the music clicks. It is bombastic without feeling overblown and the most effective atmosphere on the record. Guided by pristine synths, layers of acoustic strumming and well-placed drum fills, the twinkling beat slowly opens to a vast bridge of pronounced guitar chords.

Speaking of the music, Revival blows it right out of the gate with “Open Your Eyes.” A forgettable stark piano opening gives way to a banjo riff played ad nauseam, stuttering electro beats and muffled drum fills sound like they were recorded through walls. When the album comes close to building warmth through banjos or acoustics on “Landslide,” “Be Here Now,” or “Things are Looking Up,” it’s fractured by clearly synthetic beats or compositions that do not build effectively. Nothing on this album flows well. The track “scream!” throws in these horrible blasts of distortion that give way to a mess of a chorus while “Revival” awkwardly transitions between skittering drum machines and fake hand claps in the verses and walloping drums and strumming in the hook, all while the banjo chimes ineffectively. The one groove that sort of works is “HAPPY LIFE” which incorporates skittering stick taps, a plinking beat and a danceable riff that provides a melodic element that the rest of the album is sorely lacking.

The folk side of the album does not work due to a lack of warmth or delicacy, while anything else is clumsily handled to the detriment of the main genre. Judah and the Lion’s previous records were at least weird enough that someone could get mesmerized by their undeniably singular vision. Saying Revival is their best album to date is a backhanded compliment because it’s also their least interesting.