Over the course of his lengthy career, Moby has crafted a plethora of Sunday-worthy music, but it’s typically been interspersed with manic hyper-house, as on ‘Everything is Wrong’ and even with the post-punk raging of Animal Rights. I’m a big fan of albums that go back and forth from fast to slow, that are loud and quiet from song to song. But sometimes you just want consistency.
Enter Moby’s new album, ‘Innocents.’ Despite having what appears to be a still or movie poster from an upcoming horror film featuring everybody’s confirmed suspicions about Polyphonic Spree, the tone of the album is somber, tinged with pain and regret, but also hopeful and uplifting.
On some Sundays, you don’t want to be bothered with leaving the house for anything. You’d rather be isolated and free from obligations like pants and pleasantries, and it turns out Moby can relate completely because he recorded the whole album in his apartment. Not to say that he isolated himself from the rest of the world, as the majority of the songs are collaborations.
When I invite my friends over to my house, I have a rule of no pants, no questions. Not many people take advantage of the rule, but I think it’s important to offer that kind of non-judgement environment to my guests. It would seem that Moby extends the same kind of courtesy to the people in his company, because every singer he features seems to be a perfect, comfortable, tonally-matched compliment to the song. I also like to imagine Wayne Coyne or Mark Lanegan hanging out pantsless in Moby’s apartment.
The quality of Moby’s music improves significantly when he allows somebody else to do the singing for him, so this is a great shift from his more recent efforts where he took on most of that burden.
This Sunday, make yourself comfortable. Bring a friend. Check your pants at the door.