MGMT: The Anomaly of 'Little Dark Age'

2018 was an exceptional year for indie music. Not only did we see the release of some stellar debut records from emerging artists like Tiny Little Houses, but also impressive “comeback” records from mainstays such as mewithoutYou and Hop Along. These comebacks usually fell into one of two categories: a return-to-form for the group that brought back fans of yesteryear, or an overhaul of the band’s sound that took them to new horizons with fruitful results. It’s strange, then, that the album that manages to fall into both of these categories went largely unrecognized for it. What album this year had singles with tens of millions of views on

YouTube, excellent chart performance, an urgently relevant message and the warmest critical reception of the group’s career, yet most people you’d ask wouldn’t even know they had an album this year?

Welcome to 2018’s bizarre anomaly: MGMT’s Little Dark Age.

It isn’t fair to say that MGMT made a splash in the music industry with their debut record Oracular Spectacular; it was more like a colossal, unavoidable wave. It was hard to walk 10 steps in any direction in the late 2000s without hearing the infectious synth leads of smash singles “Time to Pretend” or “Kids.” They’ve released two albums over the 11 years between their debut and Little Dark Age, and while they’ve steadily cultivated a pretty massive dedicated following, their departure from pop melodies into denser psych-rock territory alienated the fans of their debut.

Not only does the duo’s record this year bring back the pop sensibilities of the past, but it also applies the intricate instrumentals they forged post-breakthrough. This not only creates a happy medium for any MGMT fan, but also an accessible entry-point for new fans. For instance, I’ve never considered myself to be a follower of the group, but that changed the second after my first listen to album opener “She Works Out Too Much.” Existing as a mission statement for what they’re looking to accomplish this time around, bouncy synth pads and a complex, schizophrenic drum beat pave the way for catchy melodies. A new layer of instrumentation to each chorus ensures there’s always something new in the mix to pick up on, which only helps the poppy hooks stay in your head.

The mixture of inventive production and a poppy approach to songwriting makes for a batch of catchy tunes with some real replay value to them. “Me and Michael” is just as beautiful as it is completely strange, regrettably spending most of 2018 waiting to get the pop radio rotation that it deserved. Lush arpeggios scale their way across the verses, leading to a soaring chorus that thrives on its smooth simplicity. What seems to be an over-dramatic parody of mushy ballads turns out to transcend itself and become a very solid ballad on its own.

Lyrics tend to stay confined to an urgent anxiety of technology in the modern day, presumably where the title Little Dark Age comes from. The title track lives up to its name, carrying a minor-key, maturely gothic vibe throughout its runtime. The composition remains unflinchingly distant throughout, with only the occasional warm, sticky bass groove cutting through. The album seems unable to go even a couple minutes without some mention of technology, much like we as people have become unable to go a few minutes without our phones.

While most lyrics stay vague and opaque on the record’s main topic, “Tslamp,” (an abbreviation of “Time spent looking at my phone,” of course) has pointed words to say about how our smart phones are isolating people considerably more than they’re connecting us. “I’m wondering where the hours went, as I’m losing consciousness, my sullen face is all aglow, time spent looking at my phone” details a unique attachment to one’s cellular device. There are a couple times on the track where singer Andrew Van- Wyngarden actually addresses his phone directly as if it’s a human being, stating that he wants to “turn you off, but can’t detach” over a jerky beat. The indecisively groovy instrumentation and nervous lyrics on the record seem to work together to create a cautionary tale for the listener, wishing to show how calculated the technology-driven future can sound, even at its most danceable.

While its place in 2018’s music landscape is bizarre, it sort of fits Little Dark Age as a whole. Each aspect of this record seems to directly contradict itself in some way. Beats are synthetic and cold, bursting with life and charisma. Vocals are filtered and modulated, personable and full of life. Songs are mature and long, youthful and danceable. This record is popular and deserves it, yet overlooked and deserves better.