It’s been four years since Baltimore’s finest synth-pop export Future Islands last gifted us a new opus – 2020’s ‘As Long As You Are’. However, whilst that is a reasonable gap between projects, the reality is that work began on their seventh album, the aptly-titled ‘People Who Aren’t There Anymore’, pretty much as soon as its predecessor was released into the world.
You see whilst the world was going through its own turmoil in 2020 and its immediate aftermath, Future Islands were experiencing their own microcosm of hurt, change and hope too. Enigmatic frontman Samuel T. Herring and guitarist William Cashion both experienced tough break-ups, with Herring relocating back to Baltimore after a stint in Sweden while Cashion moved over to LA. On top of this the band, who had been relentlessly touring ever since their formation in the mid-00s, suddenly found themselves with no place to go to share their devastation and grief due to the COVID restrictions at the time. But amidst all this chaos and uncertainty there was one bright spark it seems, as keyboardist Gerrit Welmers also became a new father during this period.
It is out of this whirlwind of life events then that ‘People Who Aren’t There Anymore’ emerges, an album understandably brimming with some serious emotional heft, as well as the band’s signature synth-driven melodies. Lyrically, it unpacks the highs and lows of their last few years, with the rawest of feelings eloquently expressed as ever through Herring’s affecting words and inimitable vocals. However, where ‘As Long As You Are’ was perhaps more meditative in its approach, here Future Islands channel melancholic emotions into a strong batch of songs that are consistently more surging and upbeat.
Listeners are eased into proceedings with a quartet of singles that already feel like firm favourites at this point, with pulsating opener ‘King Of Sweden’ first released two years ago now. The shimmering synths then glisten around Herring’s stark vocals on ‘The Tower’ and ‘Deep In The Night’, the latter particularly heartbreaking with its refrain of “I belong to you, when you take my hand, I understand – where you end, that’s where I began.” Most recent single ‘Say Goodbye’ then completes a stellar opening run, with its earworm electronics and big bassline rumbling against Herring’s vocals as he achingly sings “I don’t wanna say goodnight, because every day without you feels one closer to goodbye.”
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The middle section is then arguably the record’s most intriguing passage, with Herring’s poetic lyrics frequently lifted by some mesmerising sonic textures. Cashion’s guitars are brought to the fold amidst more rushing synths on ‘Give Me The Ghost Back’, while Herring’s passionate vocals and gut-punch lyrics steal the show again on ‘Corner Of My Eye’, which also boasts some gorgeous waltzing instrumentation in the background. Although the album already features six singles, the plucky, twinkling synths of The Thief make a strong case for an unprecedented seventh, with Herring found pondering why he can’t find lasting stability (“When you leave, I sit on my hands now”). Thematically it leads nicely into Iris, where he then sings of trying to break away from old habits with some alluring nature-based metaphors: “If the leaves are lying, are we not lying too? And if the trees are dying, are we not dying too?”
It’s then back to the big hitters with heartfelt single ‘The Fight’, which was released late last year and still stands out as a highlight thanks to Herring’s impassioned vocals, the buzz of Cashion’s guitars and a typically swirling whirlpool of hypnotic, spacey synths. It’s followed by oldest single ‘Peach’, incredibly released three years ago now in late-2021. It still sounds fresh as a daisy though and fits neatly into the concept of the album, as Herring is found tussling with the strain of life’s ups and downs, defiantly singing “Not today, I won’t give you up.” Then after ‘The Sickness’ presents a wonderful roaring sea of guitar distortion, the album ends with the pensive ‘The Garden Wheel’, with Herring poignantly singing “How we worked the earth so much, it turned to dust.”
Whilst ‘People Who Aren’t There Anymore’ ultimately isn’t an album that breaks the Future Islands mould, it’s hard to hold that against them. This is their sound, and they prove here they can still do it better than any of their peers. And whilst the sonic evolution from their previous work may only be subtle shifts, the biggest change comes with the band leaning on personal stories this time around rather than more observational lyricism. Most importantly though Future Islands’ fans will find plenty to love with this album, with some of the songs here already instant favourites and others feeling like some of the best, most fully realised of their career thus far.
8/10
Words: Karl Blakesley
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