Calling What For? a return to Chaz Bundick’s roots is accurate and also fairly misleading. The guitar-driven giddiness of "Empty Nesters" was a surprise whether or not you’ve heard June 2009, a collection of early Toro Y Moi recordings given a quiet, proper release in 2012. But at the very least, it provides precedent: before "Blessa", Bundick was sorting out what he wanted Toro Y Moi to be, and he wrote a number of classicist, lo-fi indie rock songs. Some of them kinda sounded like Weezer. (No, really.) That said, the past five years have seen Toro Y Moi change from a bedroom project to a tight, adventurous and successful touring band, so if What For? is Bundick revisiting his awkward phase, he’s doing so like a late bloomer confidently showing up to his high school reunion knowing just how well he’s aged.
Every Toro Y Moi release finds the band in transition, and so What For? might be seen as a regression in some ways; ditching guitar rock for electronics has become a sign of maturity for both listeners and artists, inverting the typical rockist trajectory. However, Bundick has always been canny about switching lanes: at the time, 2013’s Anything in Return felt like Toro Y Moi hitting its stride, making liquid and limber electro-acoustic dance-pop. Or, he sounded like a cuddly, plush Caribou, a role easier to accept in the absence of new Caribou music and the mutual artistic appreciation between Bundick and Dan Snaith. But then, Our Love threatened to make Toro Y Moi redundant and while Bundick’s Les Sins has run concurrent to his main gig, it's proven him to be an enthusiastic, earnest, and ultimately functional dance producer.
What For? then serves as further evidence that Toro Y Moi’s malleability is the project's most endearing quality. That and Bundick is something of a post-grad role model, having the ability to be flexible, amenable to change, and ultimately successful in all ventures without showing much struggle. There are a handful of new modes here: the Woods-y rusticity on "Ratcliff" and "Run Baby Run"’s pinwheel-eyed pop-rock would’ve been out of place on any prior release. But throughout, there’s revelation in the aesthetic familiarity Bundick has established: in particular, the globular harmonies, cushy production, and a pervasive dampness that either recalls the fog of his new home Berkeley or the humidity of his native South Carolina.
So if this is called Toro Y Moi’s "indie rock album," the "rock" part is a vestigial appendage: yes, the basis for pretty much everything here is a trad power trio set up and the synthesizers use tones that predate the '80s and will thus be called "organic." But this is guitar music without abrasion or yearning, and it’ll play just as well in the venues in which Underneath the Pine and An**ything in Return were suited for—rooftop parties, barbecues, apartment get-togethers.
And after his first three LPs were given counterintuitive deep winter release dates, What For? admits to Toro Y Moi’s music sounding best when the weather’s making you feel a bit more irresponsible than usual. So, even when the band shows vigor during the liftoff of "Empty Nesters", the quick pivots of "Buffalo", and the uptempo funk of "Spell It Out", nothing seems particularly pressing. Even as Bundick appears to have moved on from post-collegiate concerns to straight-up adult problems, What For? most oftens advocates tabling discussion until emotions have settled.
Which is to say that the pleasantry of Toro Y Moi might not be its most endearing quality, but it’s certainly the most enduring. The conversation should not end there—they’re pleasant, but so is Real Estate. So is Mac DeMarco. So is the War on Drugs. So is the vast majority of popular indie rock. And though these are Toro Y Moi’s peers, putting Bundick against them might seem unfair: he does not deal with Big Emotional Issues as directly as the aforementioned. The bigger problem is that What For? doesn’t address much of anything directly, and that’s an issue on a record which appears to make Bundick’s chops as a songwriter and a lyricist a focal point.
Befitting a guy best known for crafting a vibe, one can sense these songs are emotive and heartfelt. But close reading for confirmation shows thoughts that may have once conveyed relatable feelings forced against their will to become lyrics, i.e., "Let’s awaken and turn on our minds/ No one is waiting for you in this line." Either that or the persistent indifference tipped by the title of What For? becomes maddening whenever Bundick soft-sells waffles like, "It’s whatever you want to do" or, subsequently, "What is it you want to do?" So when he pleads, "do I need to spell it out," the answer is actually, "well, yes." Without any kind of emotional or sonic grain to grip, what were well-constructed, well-meaning songs minutes prior are reduced to placeholders in your memory—"the one with the clavinet," "the lead single," "the six-minute closer." The problem isn't that Bundick avoids confrontation or confession—most people do. But What For? is so passive it leaves your system the moment you’re done with it.
