Running Out of Love, an album “inspired by life in Sweden in 2016”, runs at a direct contrast with the war-like, antiquated cover art of the record. Running Out of Love reveals that behind the utopian view of Sweden lies a nation that is just as indebted to the war machine as the rest of the world.
Running Out of Love, too, is as much a deconstruction of the damaging effect of love as it is a protest against their native country’s role in the modern war economy. The album isn’t wholeheartedly political, often dipping into familiar themes of love that The Radio Dept. are known for, but this is a highly politically-charged album. Sweden is the third largest arms supplier in the world per capita which is a dark secret for the nation; Sweden’s part in the modern war machine is an undertone that runs throughout the album. The country, quite literally, has a lot of blood on its hands when it comes to contributing to modern wars. The Radio Dept. are here not to wash this blood off, but to reveal it to the world. For The Radio Dept., Running Out of Love a statement that the personal is political.
The Radio Dept. have abandoned their previous lo-fi and murky pop sound for a move into a sound inspired by classic EDM, especially the techno and house music of the nineties. The most interesting thing about Running Out of Love, in fact, is how The Radio Dept. have chosen a sonic aesthetic that is associated with clubs, repetition and social activity to discuss an issue as complicated as war. In many ways, the contrast between the scattered hedonism of clubs and the structured music associated with them mirrors society at the moment. Things are volatile, hyperbolic, but the same old system is still moving unperturbed. Tracks such as “Swedish Guns” have a classic electronic beat in the background, juxtaposing nicely with The Radio Dept.’s drenched dream-pop vocals. The track, however, lacks the organic fluidity that made 2010’s Clinging To A Scheme so refreshing. The track is a little overlong and The Radio Dept.’s inexperience with dance-orientated music is evident in the song’s repetition. In a way, the decision to move into EDM-inspired sounds leaves songs with solid songwriting sounding a little too overcooked.
There are moments where The Radio Dept. revert back to the hazy pop sound of their oeuvre. ‘Thieves of State’ harkens back to the lo-fi strings and faded percussion of their previous record; there’s still the same music philosophy buried under the EDM overtones of the record. Their use of samples and plunderphonics, too, is still nuanced and refined, never feeling too forced or out of place. ‘Thieves of State’ contains echoed samples of a footsteps, faraway shouts, dislocated noise of faraway traffic and playgrounds. The samples, in effect, elevate the song to a place of greater emotional resonance, it gives the song it’s emotional depth. Quite often, samples are not put into songs with the same consideration as The Radio Dept. puts into their samples. Each sample has a meaning, each sample is as painstakingly considered as a melody or lyric. The Radio Dept., despite moving into new territory, have managed to preserve the fundamentals of their unique sound.
‘Thieves of State’ transitions into the best song on the record: ‘Occupied’. The contrasts between the thumping techno beat, high-hat snares and the moody Angelo Badalamenti-inspired synths is exactly what The Radio Dept. were trying to achieve with the entire record. It is a juxtaposition between modernity and the past. The song sounds chaotic with different styles colliding, mirroring the ideological crises Europe and the world are currently in. When The Radio Dept. stated that the album is inspired by “Sweden in 2016”, it is highly evident in this song. Colliding attitudes of between isolationism and connectivity, traditionalism and progressivism, liberty and authority is condensed into a collage of varying styles; the chaos of the song is the political chaos of 2016. The song is paced expertly, too. The more EDM inspired tracks on the record suffer from poor pacing, but here The Radio Dept. ensure the song transitions and evolves organically; it isn’t as sterile as similar tracks on the record. Lyrically, the song, along with album, can be seen as a collection of double-entendres. At surface-value, lyrics such as “If you need something done, get Swedish guns” in ‘Swedish Guns’ or “I’m so sick of hearing about that middle-ground” in ‘We Got Game’ can be seen as overtly political, but – metaphorically – they could be references to relationships. The double-layering of meaning in the lyrics, along with the mention of love in the title of the album, could be The Radio Dept. equating war with love. Perhaps love is war, but overall they seem to be saying that war is symptomatic of a lack of love in the world.
At its core, Running Out of Love is an album that is running with a dual-narrative. Sonically, the album experiments by placing this discourse in an EDM-inspired sound, but with mixed results. Whilst interesting, the sonic change – more often than not – detracts from rather than intensifies the majority of the tracks on the album. Fortunately, The Radio Dept.’s songwriting bravado and unique touch remains relatively unscathed. Running Out Of Love is as much an album of anti-war protest as it is a deconstruction of the damaging act of love itself, often blurring the boundary between the two. It speaks volumes that a listener can struggle to discern between the direct references to war and the veiled metaphors of love. This inability to discern between conflict and love implies that unsuccessful love is as much a war as it is an arms race. Running Out of Love is a portrait of love dying from acts of force when a touch of détente was needed.
Words by Benjamin Newman