Like your R&B dark and angsty? This album’s for you

Miguel, CAOS

Miguel has been busy in the eight years since his last LP, War and Leisure. The Mexican-American R&B artist has appeared on a bunch of hit singles with other high-profile acts including Diplo, Benny Blanco and Calvin Harris, and became the latest pop star to enjoy a belated mega-hit, Sure Thing, via TikTok, over a decade after it was first released.

He’s a sought after collaborator valued for his effortless, melodious falsetto, songwriting chops and undeniable swag – the kind of artist who makes any project he’s involved with cooler – but recently told fans via his newsletter he “didn’t know if I had it in me to put another album out”.

Personal turmoil might have been part of it – since 2017 Miguel has been married, separated, divorced, and last year had a child with a new partner (Australian creative director Margaret Zhang). Juggling all this against a backdrop of national and global unrest (two Trump terms, COVID-19, major international conflicts and brutal anti-immigration measures), the Los Angeles-based Miguel has been trying to land on “the right representation of how I was feeling in the madness”.

The ensuing album is his darkest yet, at once a throwback to the rock-infused, guitar-rich funk he introduced on 2012’s excellent Kaleidoscope Dream, and a move into heavier terrain than he’s explored previously with more pain and suffering expressed in both the lyrics and moody instrumentation.

The title and opening track sets the scene: “life is cold, the cold is pain, pain is growth,” he murmurs in Spanish, over liturgical choral sighs, Latin guitars and punchy staccato beats. At the outro, he repeats “when it’s over, the rain comes, the sun breaks through the clouds”, but the sombre atmosphere continuing into the next track and beyond suggests plenty of storms in the interim.

Despite its angstier, weightier mood, a lot of material on CAOS feels familiar, as though revisiting motifs and arrangements already heard on its close sonic counterparts, Kaleidoscope Dream and the even better 2015 LP, Wildheart. Those albums birthed a distinctive Miguel sound, one that paired his agile, rich voice with psychedelic guitars, plenty of reverb, and loose, dusty drums.

It’s all over CAOS, which was entirely written and almost exclusively produced by Miguel, with a couple of guest spots. It’s not a bad thing; after venturing into poppier territory on 2017’s War and Leisure, the return to grittier form is not unwelcome, but the signs of sonic evolution are minimal and limited to a few moments – the sketchy drumming on RIP, the Nirvana-aping, haunting moans on Triggered, and the multi-layered Angel’s Song, penned for his baby son Angelito.

Nearsight (SID) is more effective, where the presence of Carter Lang, a major contributor on Justin Bieber’s Swag and Swag II is felt. Soupy keys and gently plucked bass create a languid haze befitting Miguel’s desire to suspend reality – “just let me roll one”, “another tab on your tongue on a Sunday” – and to slow time, while a punky drum-break surges like teenage lust.

Closing track COMMA/KARMA is another standout. The most optimistic-sounding on the album courtesy of hopeful chord changes, heaven-bound funk guitar runs and lyrics that speak to a relationship that’s over yet lives on, it’s garnished with a gravelly voiced George Clinton feature playing off beautifully against Miguel’s breathy vocals.

Devoid of any real stinkers, CAOS is a fine effort but musically it fails to capture the growth – or even the madness – of the past eight years that might have yielded more dynamic, revelatory results.

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