The 1975 Being Funny in a Foreign Language Review: Finding Coolness in the Uncool

The 1975 take themselves very seriously, but they’re also aware of their own ridiculousness, which reached a tipping point on 2020’s Notes on a Conditional Form, a double album that essentially padded out an EP’s worth of decent material to more than 80 minutes. Their fifth studio album, Being Funny in a Foreign Language, is a comparatively stripped-down affair, and revisits the ’80s-style sonic palette of the band’s early work.

The 1975 have never been content to rest on their considerable gift for hooks, but their music has, at least, always spoken more eloquently than singer Matt Healy has on social media and in interviews, where he’s showcased an earnest belief in his own cleverness. And that sentiment certainly bleeds into the songs on this album, as “The 1975” and “Part of the Band” suggest nothing less than patronizing Substack op-eds set to music.

The album’s remainder, though, plays to the 1975’s strengths. As their music has grown increasingly eclectic over the years, a glossy take on ’80s funk-rock has remained at the core of their sound. The saxophone solos throughout Being Funny in a Foreign Language could’ve been sampled from an old Sting or Don Henley album, while “Oh Caroline,” which deploys the tinniest piano part possible, sounds like a lost adult-pop hit from 1985.

Being Funny in a Foreign Language revels in finding coolness in the uncool. The 1975 embraces the emotional resonance of soft-rock, elevating what might initially sound like self-conscious genre pastiche. The album works by stripping away most of the band’s pretenses, finding honesty in the seemingly banal: “Tell me you love me, that’s all I need to hear,” Healy sings on “All I Need to Hear.” And song titles like “Happiness” and “Looking for Somebody (To Love)” tell only part of the story (the latter is a tale of a murderous incel).

The band sticks entirely to live instrumentation throughout Being Funny in a Foreign Language, giving the album an analog warmth. Jack Antonoff’s production keeps Healy and company’s music sounding human even at its slickest. The songs click almost immediately, but they’re subtler and pricklier than a first listen would imply, with unexpected twists like faint spoken-word samples and odd bits of distortion on guitar and piano. And the 1975 uses these textures more tastefully than much of the music that inspired them.