Review Summary: Take this out the next gray and rainy Sunday to reminisce. Otherwise, there are better moments in his discography worth exploring.
Andrew McMahon’s knack for earworm melodies pre-dates In The Wilderness to his previous band Jack’s Mannequin, and then pre-dates
that going back to his days as the Something Corporate front man. Regardless of the moniker by which he’s released music, his style has never really transformed – it’s always been piano-driven pop. That’s what made 2017’s
Zombies on Broadway such a welcome change, featuring an enormous uptick in energy fueled by synth-rock/arena aesthetics that were too fun not to get swept up in. It was easily his best work since
Everything In Transit, which to this day remains his high-water mark as an artist. He’s achieved consistent success elsewhere defaulting to piano balladry, which is what we get once again with
Upside Down Flowers.
Andrew McMahon’s third album under his current project name is most comparable to
The Glass Passenger or
People and Things from his Jack’s Mannequin days. The album consists of eleven slow-to-mid tempo piano/vocal-centric songs that rely on his lyrics and emotional conviction to draw the listener in. And while it may feel like a lot of the energy has been sucked out of the room, it’s a reminder that McMahon is quite the adept songwriter who doesn’t need to rely on all of the tricks and embellishments that dressed up
Zombies. Songs like ‘Ohio’ are a reminder of just how easily McMahon seems to access his emotions and eloquently express them, recounting a cross-country move with his family: “Everything's gonna be better on the west coast, better than the mess that we left back home in Ohio / Goodbye blue house, goodbye red door…I can't forget the way you looked when we were leaving.” On top of that, his ability to pen such candid memories and then spin them into something that can be readily sang along to is unparalleled in his genre. It’s something we get across a decent portion of
Upside Down Flowers – a skeletal album musically that bursts forth with plenty to latch onto emotionally.
If there’s an issue with this album, it’s that it’s a little too consistent. Every song plays like a ballad, which means if you aren’t digging the lyrics or vibing with the particular emotion he’s putting on the table, you’re most likely bored. ‘Monday Flowers’ is a prime example, aiming for a cathedral echoed, soul-baring moment that falls victim to lazy lyrics (“He brought her flowers on a Monday / Tuesday, they spent all day in bed / Wednesday it rained / And Thursday was a river of the kind of words he wished he hadn't said”) that make the entire effort seem futile. McMahon has always been a writer who straddles the line between cliché and heartwarming, so to pull the reins back so hard and focus on rainy day songs is a risk that doesn’t always pay off. The lyrics aren’t the only thing to blame here though, as other tracks are simply uninteresting. Both ‘Paper Rain’ and ‘Goodnight, Rock And Roll’, for instance, keep the exact same beat the whole way through and never really build to anything. Navigating through
Upside Down Flowers can be an exercise in patience, as you never really know which songs will resonate and which ones will come across as annoyingly cheesy, dull, or both.
This album confirms a few things that we already knew: McMahon is at his best when he’s crafting upbeat, summery piano-pop – which this is not – and also that he’s capable of coming up with some gorgeous, meaningful slow-tempo gems. Songs like ‘Ohio’, ‘House In The Trees’, and ‘Everything Must Go’ make
Upside Down Flowers worth every second of the journey, even if only for the first time. It may not be the kind of record that you will always return to, but it continues to augment McMahon’s already lengthy list of personally relatable songs. Take this out the next gray and rainy Sunday to reminisce. Otherwise, there are better moments in his discography worth exploring.
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