Given the cyclical nature of time, perhaps it was inevitable that The The‘s defining works of the 1980s and 1990s would eventually be seen as prescient, even prophetic. The The’s sole constant creative force, Matt Johnson, sounded the alarm about religious wars, dangerous dogma, moral relativism, instant-gratification culture, and more, all against a backdrop of state-of-the-art indie pop music. Over the course of unforgettable albums such as Infected (1986), Mind Bomb (1989). and Dusk (1993), Johnson addressed the sociopolitical and the interpersonal, and gave no quarter. Part of his sly genius was in knowing relationships and politics were interrelated and often served as metaphors for one another. Another part was in couching his scathing, visceral storytelling in melodic, sometimes danceable indie pop.
Johnson’s lyrics were so unflinching, so uncompromising, that they sometimes skirted with misogyny—and worse. Crucially, though, his taste in collaborators never wavered. Even the most difficult topical material went down easy with a Johnny Marr guitar riff, Jools Holland piano solo, or Sinead O’Connor vocal. If Johnson was the premonitory of the indie world, it was not without cost, however. By the time of NakedSelf in 2000, he was embroiled in record label disputes and seemed exhausted by the mantle he had carried for the past 20-plus years. He retired for a decade, only to resurface with a series of low-profile instrumental soundtracks for obscure indie films, mostly directed by his brother Gerard.
In 2017, though, Johnson released a new single. A retrospective tour followed the next year, and then the pandemic hit. The Comeback Special, a film and album documenting the tour, was released belatedly in 2021. Johnson finally felt ready to write and record a proper follow-up to NakedSelf. Ensoulment reconvenes the Comeback Special lineup: Johnson and The The veterans James Eller on bass, keyboardist DC Collard and drummer Earl Harvin, plus Primal Scream alumnus Barrie Cadogan on guitar.
Somewhat surprisingly, given Johnson’s renegade past, The Comeback Special was a poised affair that presented The The as buttoned-down elder statesmen. Johnson seemed happier than before, though, almost embracing the frontman role rather than pacing the stage nervously as in times past. Given this context, it is reassuring that Ensoulment presents a Johnson who has lost none of his ability to perceive the follies, ills, and contradictions of the West and address them in a withering fashion. Also, it is not surprising that musically the album is so reactionary.
Ensoulment sounds like it might have come out at any point in the last 30 years. It trades heavily in the kind of murky, twilit, bluesy/twangy sound Johnson honed after ditching his synthesizers and samplers in the late 1980s – a cross between Dusk and The The’s 1995 Hank Williams tribute album, Hanky Panky. Warne Livesey, who worked on Infected and Mind Bomb, returns to co-produce and adds some familiar-sounding horns and backing singers. Opening track “Cognitive Dissident” gets a mean riff from Eller, but for the most part Ensoulment is a musically subtle, midtempo affair.
At the same time, The The are still able to conger the edgy, verge-of-the-apocalypse feeling that had become a signature before Johnson took his hiatus. This effect is largely due to Johnson’s lyrics and vocals. His words are as pithy as ever and free of the more unseemly elements and self-loathing of his earlier work. He sets his sights on the corporate-government censorship complex (“Cognitive Dissident”), the health establishment (the sinister “Linoleum Smooth to the Stockinged Feet”), online romance (the gently swinging “Zen & the Art of Dating”), and his longtime pet target, the UK’s subservience to American politics and culture (the self-explanatory “Kissing the Ring of POTUS”). To express these observations, Johnson too often falls back on his arch, closely-mic’d, half-whispered-half-croaked sing-speak, which makes the occasional bright, catchy choruses even more crucial in relief. It’s too bad because when he actually sings, Johnson is in a fine voice.
Even at their most cynical, Johnson’s albums have never been without their moments of grace, hope, even defiance. Johnson lost several family members along the way to making Ensoulment, and an enhanced sense of wisdom and perspective is one of the album’s most striking features. Song titles like “I Want to Wake Up With You”, “Life After Life”, and “Where Do We Go When We Die?” reveal a willingness to tackle Big Questions directly, whereas, in the past, Johnson would often hedge emotions with irony and frustration. “Where Do We Go When We Die?”, in particular, is gorgeous, with rich guitar strumming and Johnson’s best vocal performance. Johnson’s father died during the Comeback Special tour, and it takes first-hand experience in deep grief to produce an image as poignant as, “We packed your clothes and books / Took them to the charity shop.”
Life is hard, and the world is a dangerous place. Johnson has never shied away from these realities. Back when he was making his pronouncements about Thatcher-era England, the Gulf wars, and AIDS, the Internet as we know it did not exist. Now, insights and commentaries, thousands by the hour, are only a click away. If that makes an album like The The’s Ensoulment seem a little quaint, it’s a quaintness worth wallowing in.