Review Summary: That is a lot of words to say nothing of substance.
A duo with such a keen proclivity to dour unassuming folk excursions, The Milk Carton Kids are back at it again, rid now of their autumnal veneer. The difference? Marginal. The presentation? More colourful, I suppose. In a performance this minimal and bare, consistently self-repeating, a special accent must be placed on whatever subtlety the artist manages to dig up. Say, you specialise in stripped, single-instrument folk tunes; you run the risk of growing stale with your sound relatively soon, unless you bring lyrical prowess to the game, complimented by the strength of vocal and/or melodic character. But a dozen or two minutes into
I Only See the Moon and I found myself in a precarious situation of hearing all of these subtleties, mild new instrumental changes, thematic lyrical jumps implemented, yet not really being able to pick up on any distinct personality, any striking moment. In 30+ minutes, the album just slogs along, exhausted with its own content.
Surprisingly, the main strongpoint of the album is such a track that leans into newness the least. The Milk Carton Kids at their most autopilot and uninspired are at their most solid and sophisticated here, while their experimentations – as foggy and infinitesimal as they are – are all bulky and forgettable. The most shining moments are the very loose, bare-bones folk-isms of their past. The opener “All the Time in the World to Kill” works as a quaint little chamberly piece, whose tempo and harmony are driven by the metre of its verses like reverse sonnets. Similarly, the arpeggios leading into a bluesy guitar solo on “Wheels and Levers” with its gentle transition into the title track, “I Only See the Moon” are definite highlights of the record. The latter also is among the moments, where addition of new instruments strengthened the song. The dramatic backing strings strongly accentuate the melancholy with an atmosphere fit for a 1930s musical. These are the most dour, drowsy moments on the album, these are also the most unassuming and unambitious cuts, yet strike harder than even some of the lead singles.
Nearly every song featuring what appears to be plucked banjo (although none of the liner notes confirmed this indeed was banjo) certainly add an old-fashioned western flair to the mix, but these often get bogged down by a repetitive tune or like with “One True Love” also lyrics a little too kitsch and plain to strike a note. The upbeat plucking does, however, add a more positive twist to The Milk Carton Kids’ music that was often absent in the past. If nothing else,
I Only See the Moon is by and large their ‘happy’ album, whatever that may entail. The themes of love are now of seeking in hope, not of seeking in vain, as was the case often with their previous work. The darkness and gloom they were known for is present only on occasion, consequently making for the aforementioned highlights of the record. The clever lyrical trickery is exchanged for plainness. The blossoming monochromatic atmosphere is now that of waning colour, leagues less impressive. The uptick of positivity at the back end of the album is eventually somewhat broken by the closer “Will You Remember Me?”. In theory also a highlight of the record, but its ambiguous dread of forgetting somehow works to interrupt the ‘happy’ streak, leaving a sore feeling behind. True to the band’s fashion, yet rather a betrayal of what the record seemed to have been attempting to do over the course of the runtime. And as such it concludes an indecisive album on an indecisive note, both lyrically and contextually, leaving one wonder: “So what are you trying to say at all?”
