Appearing four years after
Hotspot
-- the longest gap between albums in
Pet Shop Boys
history --
Nonetheless
represents something of a reset for
Neil Tennant
and
Chris Lowe
, finding the duo swapping producer
Stuart Price
in favor of
James Ford
, an associate of
Arctic Monkeys
who recently forged a fruitful collaboration with
Damon Albarn
that culminated on
Blur
's ruminative
The Ballad of Darren
.
shares some similarities with
, particularly in how it finds
settling into a familiar groove, not for nostalgia but for reflection.
Tennant
litters the album with elegies for a fading world, feeling out of step in hipster neighborhoods ("Like silent movie stars/in 60s Hollywood/No one knows who you are"), reminiscing about the time he hung around with his glam rock brothers, and, worst of all, lamenting that pop is "always Christmas or the sound of summer" in this future we've found ourselves in. The dissatisfaction and melancholy are palpable, but
Lowe
choose to not wallow in sadness, finding resolve in the very things that used to matter to the culture at large and still matter very much to
: pop songs, disco beats, wry cynicism, bittersweet ballads and human connection that lasts, no matter how fleeting a relationship may be. The familiarity of form is an asset on
: the lack of surprises makes it easier not only to appreciate the craft of
,
, and
Ford
, but it helps mark the passing of time, shifting the focus to what
have gained by what the pop mainstream has left behind. Their devotion to pop and belief it in its power is affecting and oddly reassuring, particularly because
works so well as an album: there's no fat, no excess, so the craft that services the emotion is difficult to deny. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine