As Wild Nothing, Jack Tatum has explored just about every corner of ’80s pop, from the Cure-isms of his 2010 debut through lush sophistipop, synthpop and R&B. For Wild Nothing’s fifth album, and first in five years, Tatum has his eyes squarely on the charts, aiming straight down the middle, as in mid-’80s and the middle of the Billboard Hot 100 where some quirky stuff lurked on the edges of the Top 40 at the time. On Hold, Tatum fully embraces widescreen Big ’80s production — think Tango in the Night, Invisible Touch, Dancing on the Ceiling, Welcome to the Pleasuredome — with layer upon layer of synthetic and organic instrumentation, including such touchstone sounds as gated drums, fretless bass, and sampled orchestra hits.
If you have a fondness for these kind of visions of excess, Tatum shows a mastery of the form and it’s hard not to be impressed by the technique even if it’s not your cup of tea. Unfortunately, like much of what was produced in the ’80s, a lot of the album rings hollow. Tatum is still capable of writing stick in your head pop melodies and big hooks (“Dial Tone,” “Alex”) but, even more than on 2018’s Indigo, the songs get a bit lost in all the shiny overproduction. As an exercise in style, though, Hold is an empty calorie feast for the ears. Patrick Bateman would’ve loved it.
The Fat Angel Sings 