The Lumineers released their fifth studio album, “Automatic,” on Feb. 14th to fairly good reviews from fans. The album contains 11 tracks and only spans about 32 minutes. This album, like most of The Lumineers’ music, tells a narrative. On “Automatic,” the tracks outline characters who are suffering from both personal and interpersonal issues. The lyricism and storytelling of the band’s work are a big draw for me as a fan of the folk and Americana genres. This album certainly delivers on the artistry front but falls a bit short in terms of notability and variety.

The “vibe” of the album is extremely consistent throughout — most of the instrumentals sound similar, and the lyrics discuss similar topics. Fans of Americana might enjoy the adherence to genre conventions. My main qualm with “Automatic” is that it is fairly one-note and not super memorable. After listening to the full album a few times over, I still find it difficult to remember a chorus or tune. The tracks on this album, though invariant, are pleasant to listen to and feature beautiful lyrics. It is clear that The Lumineers know what they’re best at and, though that might be a narrow genre, the band has almost perfected it. 

The first track on the album, “Same Old Song,” was released as a single when the album was announced on Jan. 8. This is one of the more upbeat songs on the album, but only by its tempo. It’s fun and catchy, despite depicting a story of depression and self-reflection. Wesley Schultz, the lead singer of The Lumineers, sings, “Cause I don’t feel it like I did back then in a black sedan of depression … I don’t know what’s wrong with me/ I killed the mood so naturally.” This song is a nice opener to the album and throws listeners directly into the depressive and yearning narrative. 

One of my favorite songs on the album is “Ativan.” Schultz sings from the perspective of a prescription drug being used to numb pain. Formatted as a letter, the chorus features a sign-off, “Your sweet Ativan,” much like one that would close out a handwritten letter. This serves as a metaphor for the subject’s reliance on the singer — “If I can’t make you happy then nobody can, your Sweet Ativan” repeats throughout the song. I love the varied impressions this song leaves. It could be a song about addiction, a romantic relationship or an internal struggle for happiness. 

The majority of songs on “Automatic” are about a broken or breaking relationship. “Automatic,” “You’re All I Got,” “Keys on the Table” and “So Long” all share themes of heartbreak, loss and depression. This opens up opportunities for unusual creative efforts from the band, much like their short film “The Ballad of Cleopatra,” which combines the music videos for multiple songs from their second studio album, “Cleopatra.” This film tells the story of a woman through the connected narratives of “Ophelia,” “Cleopatra,” “Sleep on the Floor,” “Angela” and “My Eyes” from the album, “Cleopatra.” The Lumineers are great at making nice-sounding, emotionally driven music that illustrates an overarching story. A film like “The Ballad of Cleopatra” would serve the narrative structure of “Automatic” well. 

“Strings” and “Sunflowers” are two instrumental tracks featured on the album. Neither are exciting or original, though they are not actively bad either. While “Strings” is a 34-second track and can easily be written off, I can see a bit more purpose in “Sunflowers.” The instrumental is the second-to-last track of the album, and I think it provides listeners a nice moment to reflect on the collection of work. Strictly from a musical standpoint, though, I would not miss either of these tracks if they were taken off of the album. 

“You’re All I Got” and “Keys on the Table” blatantly connect with each other in their lyrics, as well as their actual instrumentals. The former, “You’re All I Got,” is a song about a dying relationship. “Twenty years and no one gives a damn” — the song describes the end of a romantic relationship, with the focus on the two members of this relationship. “Keys on the Table,” features a more acoustic-sounding version of “You’re All I Got’s” melody. The lyrics of “Keys on the Table,” though mirroring those of “You’re All I Got,” tell the story of what seems to be a more familial relationship — “Scared you had a bad heart/ And you’re sleeping in the carpark/ Everybody knows you’re all I got.” I really enjoy the doubled use of the phrase “You’re all I got” in two different contexts. Both songs feel desperate and woeful but in entirely different ways. 

I think this is a solid album, but its impression on me wanes in the light of The Lumineers’ previous works. While it is a well-constructed album, it doesn’t match up to the behemoths of the alternative-indie genre that are “Cleopatra” and “The Lumineers,” two of the band’s previous albums. The band seems to have had a difficult time matching its own caliber of success, which I suppose is a good problem to have. I do like this album, and I would recommend it, but it is hard to forget the bar that Lumineers bangers such as “Ho Hey” and “Sleep On The Floor” have set.