Darwin Deez – 10 Songs That Happened When You Left Me With My Stupid Heart

Indie-pop's near-cliché poster boy Darwin Deez returns with his established style of playful, happy-go-lucky electronica that walks the fine line between lovestruck sweetheart and sickeningly twee wallflower

Album Review by Evan Osborne | 30 Aug 2018
  • Darwin Deez – 10 Songs From When You Left Me With My Stupid Heart
Album title: 10 Songs From When You Left Me With My Stupid Heart
Artist: Darwin Deez
Label: Lucky Number
Release date: 31 Aug

10 Songs That Happened When You Left Me With My Stupid Heart has not strayed far from Darwin Deez's eponymously-titled 2010 release, with only slightly less lovey-dovey prose. The majority of these tracks could have easily been on his first album, and underlines the lack of new direction here. Not to say that his infatuating combination of perky Casio drums and swooning guitar licks isn't enticing, but there are only so many soppy platitudes a person can take.

Evidently, the Brooklyn bedroom pop artist has found a satisfying corner to reside in musically. Encapsulated best by songs such as The World's Best Kisser and Too Shy To Take a Shine, which are respectively a pop anthem idolising a girl, and a ballad ruminating over his inability to ask a girl out. Choice lines include 'And I know just which film you mean / Can't think of the title.' It's this lyrical meandering that broaches the whole album which leaves something to be desired.

Deez has highlighted in interviews his frustration with complicated lyrics, and prefers to focus instead on simpler line choices. Both a blessing and a curse, his accessibility can allow listeners to appreciate his light-hearted tone and flow, but can also feel childish and inane. It's hard not to think of your GCSE chemistry class when in The World's Best Kisser, he sings: 'Magic isn't magic if it lasts / Let the record show you turn me from a solid to a liquid to a gas.'

Although this album has some appealing pop melodies, any further examination or appreciation removes their surface-level charm. Elevator music isn't bad, it just fills awkward silences.

Listen to: Say It First, Daddy Always