In the shadow of Dodos' breakthrough LP Visiter, their 2009 follow-up Time to Die was considered a minor letdown; in a vacuum, it was actually more of a misstep. The addition of a third member had gummed up the works for original members Meric Long and Logan Kroeber went the party line. Instead, the record's achilles heel was the usually appropriate tidy economy of Phil Ek's production. Here, for perhaps the first time, it worked against one of his charges, turning down Dodos' raw idiosyncrasies and miscasting them as genial folk-pop á la Fleet Foxes or the Shins. But when a misstep is this obvious, the flipside is that troubleshooting is incredibly easy-- back to a duo and working with previous engineer John Askew, No Color isn't quite the knockout Visiter was, but it's a logical step in trying to advance beyond the untamed but thrilling sprawl of the past without slamming the door on it.
The difference is obvious from the first minute: On opener "Black Night" you're immediately reminded just how magnetic Long and Kroeber can be when they're playing like they don't have to worry about waking the neighbors. The sheer physicality with which these two interact with acoustic instruments feels positively electric, a potent reminder that regardless of their unorthodox musicianship, this is above all else a rock band. And most importantly, one that avoids the usual trope of acoustic acts gunning to be forceful (i.e., strum harder) and plays off each other's virtuosity for whatever form of crowd-pleasing they want, whether it's another chorus for a beer commercial or unplugged psych-rock with the volcanic peaks of freaky companions Akron/Family.
Lyrically, No Color is a step in a new direction for Dodos-- for mostly better. Catalog highlights "Jodi" and "Fools" were ultimately both driven by the same gut-level writing that also resulted in some fairly awkward woe-is-the-world accounts, and Long is noticeably more impressionistic here. The upside is in how the phrasing is rhythmically and thematically more locked in than ever with the sonics-- words acts in tandem with the dizzying momentum accumulated during "Black Night", while the odd-metered repetition of "Sleep"'s chorus mirrors the narrator's increasing self-obsession.
For the most part, the autumnal glow is a good look, even if they nail that feeling a bit much in the record's most sedated and less rewarding second half. "Companions" and "Don't Stop" close No Color with Long's most pyrotechnic chops and most pedestrian melodies. But in between, "When Will You Go" and "Don't Try and Hide It" hit an anthemic stride whose subtle build and optimism feel like new wrinkles-- in particular, the latter works in a manner similar to Jimmy Eat World's "The Middle", claiming a pep talk about feeling normal can be every bit as effective as one that makes you wonder if you really have a freak flag to fly.
In a weird way, "Don't Try And Hide It" feels like a thematic mission statement for No Color. For one thing, it's one of several tracks that feature backup vocals from tourmate Neko Case, but the reason I feel comfortable waiting this long to bring up what at least sounds like a huge selling point is because she's, well, kinda hidden. If you wanted to hear her do the force of nature thing, well, that's what Neko Case albums are for, and the way she fits in as a bit player drives home a line from "Black Night" where Long confidently sings "it was never that I was aiming at being someone else." Whether that's true or not, No Color is proof that Dodos are indeed at their best when they're simply being themselves.
