Predictable 'Parallax'

In a Pitchfork interview, Bradford Cox called “Parallax” the loneliest album he’s ever made. It sure sounds like it. More than ever, the songs are framed around his stressed croon. It feels solitary through and through. He creates a cohesive, despairing atmosphere that rarely amounts to compelling music.

It’d be a blessing to hear “Parallax” outside the context of Cox’s prolific output as Atlas Sound and with Deerhunter. He has gradually honed his voice into an immediately recognizable and fully realized lamentation of spacey bedroom pop-rock. He’s also become predictable.

Despite its refined pop and Elvis-posing, “Parallax” feels less like a success in straightforward songwriting and more like a bore. The highlights arrive late, when Cox puts a new spin on his usual routine. “Flagstaff” trudges along on a sparse vocal melody before being enveloped in a gorgeously icy synth loop. Closer “Lightworks” injects a bright-eyed energy into Cox’s creepy rock n’ roll.

While “Parallax” is certainly the most well-constructed Atlas Sound release as a whole, too many of its pieces are forgettable distillations of songs we’ve already heard.