It is quite necessary to distinguish and thereby separate the fan from the critic. The fan in me was quite pleased with this album, and listened to the songs on repeat for days and days on end. Naturally, so did the critic as well, however the glaring flaws of this album could not go by unnoticed—and, of course, unmentioned.
Like most musicians, The xx write about love. Few things are as universal and few things are as hard to describe. It is perhaps this ineffability that could explain the truth behind the words on "Coexist," which is—well, that there aren't many words at all. While this lends itself well to the band's signature minimalism and diaphanous treatment of sound and subject, the lyrics are often so simple that they really aren't saying much of anything in particular. The stoic, whispery delivery that gave the band its memorability now only reinforces how prosaic the pieces that form "Coexist" can be. While the bleak simplicity can be quite moving—"Did I hold you too tight? / Did I not let enough light in?" croons Romy Madley-Croft on "Chained"—often, it isn't. The opening lines of "Try" ring out: "We bide our time / though the time is fine." That must be quite meaningful, right?
But is it? Sure, many argue that they are saying a lot more by saying so little, but this is a pseudo-philosophical cop-out. Or one may argue that the band is simply being creative: who else but The xx could draw four short words—"it's hard to say"—into 15 seconds of runtime? Is this some kind of stylistic irony, a tongue-in-cheek juxtaposition between sound and word meant to be acknowledged and admired by listeners? Perhaps, but the repeated laconicism of the band's songs is so constant that it leaves one thinking otherwise. It is hard not to imagine the band sitting around in a smoky room and one of the members suddenly interjecting: "Well, we shouldn't make an album that is entirely instrumental, because people want words. So let's just throw in some words here and there." Lo and behold, the quasi-profound slant rhymes and half-baked lyrical ambitions of this album were born.
Their characteristically short and choppy lyrics, however, leave room for vast stretches of echoing instrumental interludes, when it comes down to it, it is in these instances that the album, and The xx's music as a whole, soars. Close your eyes and let the Jamaican steel drums mixed with guitar sounds on "Reunion" and "Sunset" cocoon you with nostalgia tinged with the scent of ocean waves, or let the sweet, distant guitar of the first single, "Angels," lift you up to an intangible paradise. You may roll your eyes and think that this is a bit too much, but the point is that any description of the music is too much: it is the simplicity of the beats and melodies that make the emotional whirlwind behind them so deliciously inexpressible and moving. Trying to describe the sounds is like trying to catch an elephant with a butterfly net. It may have seemed like a good idea in a dream, but when you actually do it, you realize your embarrassing ineptitude.
The xx, quite simply, make some of the best beats in town, and "Coexist" is the newest testament to this prowess. They know how to mix with artful perfection traditional instruments and electronic sounds, leaving the resonating riffs that Oliver Sim constructs with thoughtful asceticism. One of the strongest tracks, "Tides," epitomizes the band's ability to fashion succinct and downright catchy melody whose beauty is further reified when repeated with different instruments, creating a simultaneously complex but starkly simple sound. This is because the beats are never overbearing or overdone, leaving you with an insatiable addiction for more and more of something of which you are only given a small tease. The xx's music plays hard-to-get, and that is why it is so irresistible.
The singing itself is the same wispy, dreamy, trancelike whisperings that distinguished the first album. Their stagnant fidelity to a signature, hard-to-hear murmur can grow tedious, but with the first album, it was alright. They were a new band and they were a fresh one, so we smiled and nodded, pushed aside minor quibbles, and welcomed them with open arms. Now, with a second album, the wearisomeness of their singing style is a lot more palpable and harder to forgive. The more disheartening truth is that even the instrumentals—the band's forte—can get a little old, or lacking. If you're not paying attention, you won't even realize when one song ends and another begins, making for a constant, unchanging atmosphere that blurs the album into one congealed mass.
If the band were to explore new musical plains and sonic realms other than the ethereal breathlessness that characterizes their current discography, then the world would have a noteworthy change to laud. Nevertheless, "Coexist" is solid. Neither superlative nor lesser than its predecessor, simply because of their synonymity, and nor is it an incarnation of musical brilliance (the closest being "Crystalised" on the first album).
But does that matter to the fan in me? A little, but not too much. The critic? Well, he will bite his tongue for a little longer: the xx are still the hip new kids on the block for now, and the third time's a charm—a charm that will be anticipated with even greater expectation.