Just shy of a century before six lifelong friends with a boatload of instruments and just as much talent came together as Dutch Interior, Spanish artist Joan Miró put his own spin on Dutch Golden Age paintings by reinterpreting naturalistic depictions of everyday life as surrealist abstractions. The Los Angeles band chose to name itself after Miró’s series, and the rest was history. Whether or not it’s a direct wink at their MO, the name is apt: Throughout their discography, Dutch Interior have consistently channeled a variety of influences into what they call “freak Americana.” Moneyball is their most wide-ranging, thoughtfully realized album, leaving the band’s own pins all across the map of the American songwriting tradition.
Until now, Dutch Interior claim to have been mostly winging it: They’ve said their 2021 debut, Kindergarten, “just kind of fell out of us”; 2023’s Blinded by Fame came together in a literal garage, unburdened by any kind of expectations. The laid-back, lo-fi qualities of those records contrast markedly with the folk and country of the more expansively produced Moneyball, where the stated influences are so intentional, at times it seems as if they posed specific creative prompts to challenge themselves. “Wood Knot” came about because they wanted to write a “three chord Neil Young song with a Sparklehorse bassline.” Single “Sandcastle Molds” was intended to be a “fucked up Fleetwood Mac song.” And while the results of these experiments can be uneven at times, they form something impressively singular in its sprawl.
Moneyball’s generous instrumentation lets the band get creative with a bigger and bolder sound, cycling between seven different types of guitar, pedal steel, banjo, two basses, piano, four synths, and more—plus an EBow, mixer drone, and even screwdriver, à la Godspeed You! Black Emperor. Five of the six players sing, and they all share songwriting credits, testifying to the sense of creative free-for-all behind their stylistic leaps. In any other context, it’d be strange to imagine that a song like “Life (So Crazy),” driven by a moody bassline and J Mascis rasp, might be followed by the lovesick pedal-steel-and-piano twang of “Horse” only two songs later. But they pull it off by fine-tuning the elements across each song—more like EQing a mix than assembling a compilation.
Some zigzags feel more like dead ends. After album opener and slow-burn stunner “Canada,” “Sandcastle Molds” breaks the mood; the rollicking drumbeat, nervous blues licks, and dissonant climax feel muddled and a little overdone when compared to some of their more relaxed songs. But the next few tracks get the album back on solid footing; “Wood Knot” succeeds in incorporating a folksier sound and really getting Neil Young with it, and the dissonant alien strings on “Science Fiction” beam us up into full orchestral orbit.
Ultimately, the biggest part of Moneyball’s charm is its evident sincerity. The band members have spoken at length about their friendship and the ease with which their music comes together, and that feeling of camaraderie spills into the album’s themes of hope and human connection. Even in their most heartbroken moments, songs never lapse into jadedness; on the tragic, waltzing “Beekeeping,” the narrator’s biggest regret is that he “could’ve shared so much more.”
In an era of endemic disaffection, it can feel shamefully corny to tell ourselves to be there for each other—that love wins; we should enjoy the little things; “laugh like we were meant to,” as they sing on the hushed “Life (So Crazy).” But corniness is no crime, and Dutch Interior’s willingness to inch close to the cob is disarming. Moneyball may not tread new territory in its subject matter (loving your friends, feeling at home—has anyone ever done this?), but the band still finds fresh, teasingly ironic ways to frame even the most hackneyed sentiments: “Home sweet home,” they sing on “Wood Knot,” following the melancholy contour of a pedal steel: “Live laugh love/Plant my ass/Deeper than a root.”
