Current events being what they are, polarized audiences often demand artists choose between art as political activism or art as oblivious escapism. With their fourth studio album, alt-pop group MUNA try to bridge the gap of this dichotomy.Dancing on the Wall is playful with a side of punchy, but it ultimately comes off generic and shallow. The record starts with a run of fun, sexy songs that evoke crowded parties and sweaty nights. With summer around the corner, it's what casual fans expect from the band: the songs are instantly danceable, with emotional lyrics that hit you a beat later — a one-two punch the group have executed beautifully since their first record.This time around, however, the lyricism feels a little hollow. It lacks specificity and originality, leaning on wordplay, clichés, and punchlines instead. A melange of vintage touchstones crowds the album with big '80s synths, grungy industrial beats and lyrical references to the likes of Peaches and the Pet Shop Boys. While the effect is certainly enjoyable, it's also characterized by anonymity.Despite in-jokes for their queer fans and strong vocal performances from the whole band, Dancing on the Wall lacks identity. The lyrics only skate the surface of the lust and yearning they describe amidst nostalgic references to mixed eras, and the songs all clock in with similar BPMs and repetitive themes; by the sixth track, the entire first half of the LP blends together like a blurry summer night. It's ungrounded music that yearns for any time in any place with anybody.At the halfway point, the tone shifts explicitly with the interlude track "Party's Over." MUNA's subsequent protest song, "Big Stick," swings big indeed, tackling everything from capitalist propaganda to police brutality to the genocide of Palestinians. The lyrics that are overt, confrontational and unapologetic. It feels like the beginning of a refreshing second act for the album, promising more depth and substance than the mindless party of the first half. Unfortunately, however, after the lacklustre addiction narrative on "Mary Jane," we're thrown back inside Club Anywhere."Girl's Girl" is a campy, sassy track about infidelity, a gritty beat rooting playful guitar and harmonies, while lead singer Katie Gavin shows off the full range of her vocal expression. It's the best on the album, but inadvertently takes the wind out of its second chapter. Another interlude track follows, then the record fizzles to a dissatisfying end: "I made it to the protest / The speech made me cry / But then I came home and I still feel hopeless," Gavin sings on closer "Buzzkiller."Dancing on the Wall wants to be a concept album that bridges entertainment and activism, but it doesn't commit to the leap, with the second half of the two-act structure not getting the runtime it needs to be fully realized. MUNA clearly want to use music to speak truth to power, but they sound most comfortable in vague yet danceable emotional melancholy. The sound works for them, but it's also a rinse-and-repeat of the formula for their successful 2SLGBTQIA+ anthems like "I Know a Place" and "Silk Chiffon."Political music only works with a strong point of view, which MUNA lack on this record. That said, it has at least a couple niche hits to round out summer playlists and Pride party sets. Even without the depth, MUNA know how to please a crowd — but the impression is fleeting.




