Junip’s debut album, 2010’s Fields, was perfectly illustrative of what singer/songwriter Jose Gonzalez does so well, a fusion of perfectly plucked classical guitar that weaves in and out of synthesizers and driving drum beats. The sound is indicative of the cloth it’s cut from; Gonzalez is an Argentinian who was raised primarily in Sweden, and (normally) he’s able to perform a balancing act between Latin acoustic music and the pop sensibilities of fellow Swedes First Aid Kit and Lykke Li. Fields never wavered in its ability to keep the listener engaged, alternating from near cacophony to beautifully polished simplicity and, because of nearly constant, perfectly produced beats, never once allowed the listener to turn away. Even the two disc special edition of the record, which added the 11 songs from the Rope and Summit and Black Refuge EPs, never wavered, ending with an angry solo version of Bruce Springsteen’s “Ghost of Tom Joad.” As we noted in our review of Fields, the album “creates an energy that seems to almost swirl out of the speakers, covering you with a blanket of sound.”
Junip’s self-titled follow up, unfortunately, doesn’t come close to creating that same energy. More often than not, this feels like an album of tracks that weren’t interesting enough to make it on Fields, and more often than that, it’s all too easy to tune out the music and start thinking about what you’re having for dinner, or what you’ve got going on this weekend. Quite the opposite of engaging, this is music that is best used for falling asleep on a plane.