‘Do not open’ is good
advice. If someone bought you this album and it’s still in the polyethylene
wrapping, politely return the album and then disown that friend forever.
When US EDM duo The Chainsmokers first broke the mainstream
with satirical dance track ‘#SELFIE’ in 2014, their humour was entertaining,
even if the crappy K-pop synth drop was an anti-climax. Since then, the
Chainsmokers have grown to a star status that rivals Calvin Harris. They’ve
also reached a level of blandness that rivals Calvin Harris. But rather than
simply posting a video of paint drying like I did for my review of ‘Motion’,
let’s get to the bottom of what makes these dudes so remarkably dull.
How about the fact that almost every track on Memories…Do Not Open uses practically the
same processed glossy pianos, the same vaguely tropical percussion and the same
template chorus-style synth drops. Skipping through the album, you can barely
tell when one track ends and the next begins.
But that’s not the real crime here. No, the real stinker is
the fact that they’ve now lyrically become those same vapid nightclub drones
that they once mocked on ‘#SELFIE’.
I could excuse a bunch of deliberately brainless bangers
about twerking or Barbara Streisand. But instead we get songs that are actually
trying to be ‘emotional’. I use inverted commas here because quite frankly a
plank of wood has experienced more emotions than the narrators of these club
drama anthems. The first song is about not getting invited to a party. And that’s
supposed to be emotional?
Maybe it’s because I’m no longer sixteen years old. Maybe it’s
because I’ve just arrived from Mount Eerie to this. I can only imagine that if
you get thrills from this, you’ll get thrills from anything.
★☆☆☆☆
TRACK TASTER: