Unknown Mortal Orchestra: V

With its vintage tape warmth and psych-soul melodies, Ruban Nielson’s earliest music conjured some kind of alternate-universe 1971. But as that retro-future vibe became trendier and trendier throughout indie-rock, he stood out by subtly shapeshifting—flirting with disco, jazz, funk, even Krautrock. V, his expansive fifth album as Unknown Mortal Orchestra, doesn’t abandon these signatures, consolidating the elliptical melodies, unconventional guitar patterns and elite-level pocket of his previous work. But now Nielson—working with regular collaborators Jacob Portrait (bass), brother Kody Nielson (drums, keys) and father Chris Nielson (trumpet, trombone, saxophone)—has managed to enrich it even further, somehow sounding trippier and tighter. Part of that focus sprang from physical setting: V took shape in the Hawaiian-New Zealand artist’s home studio in Palm Springs, Calif., where, swept up in nostalgia, he moved during the early pandemic. (The palm trees and resort atmosphere reminded him of his childhood, traveling around with his entertainer parents as they toured East Asia and the Pacific.) The resulting songs, even at their haziest, are noticeably sunnier: “The Widow” swaggers with a jazz-funk electric piano, building to Chris’ snazzy tenor sax solo; the cheeky chorus of the clavinet-fueled “Weekend Run” would have been a natural fit for the opening credits of a TV sitcom in 1979; “Layla” and “That Life,” with their elastic guitar riffs and soft-rock hooks, would pair nicely with a sunset beachside edible. Like the other UMO albums, V rewards close listening—don’t mistake craftsmanship for cheap breeziness.