Electric Light Orchestra

From Out of Nowhere (2019)

 
  
  1. From Out of Nowhere
  2. Help Yourself
  3. All My Love
  4. Down Came the Rain
  5. Losing You
  6. One More Time
  7. Sci-Fi Woman
  8. Goin' Out on Me
  9. Time of Our Life
  10.Songbird
  

  
  

At just over thirty minutes in length, From Out of Nowhere barely qualifies as an album in the traditional sense. It recalls the tales of mid-sixties Beatles tours—harrowing travel, rudimentary sound systems, and concerts concluded in under forty minutes. Then, speed was survival. Now, one suspects the rush is simply indifference.

This album feels hurried. Jeff Lynne, usually the consummate studio craftsman, appears to have worked to a deadline rather than a vision. The result is a collection of songs that carry the recognizable sonic signature of Electric Light Orchestra, but seldom the care or depth that once defined their finest work. The lushness is there. The polish is intact. But soul? Absent.

The title track opens proceedings with some promise—catchy, efficient, and musically serviceable—but it ends just as it begins to engage, as though someone in the mixing booth couldn’t wait to move on. Losing You, arguably the strongest entry, suffers similarly. It hints at emotional weight, even greatness, but is cut short, both in length and in impact. Had either track been given the full treatment—development, layering, time—they might have joined the company of ELO’s classics. As it stands, they are sketches, not songs.

Elsewhere, the material wavers. Sci-Fi Woman, offers a faint echo of the Time era and merits inclusion, if only for its commitment to theme. But much of what remains feels alarmingly uninspired. Time of Our Life, a supposed celebration of ELO’s Wembley comeback, is a lyrical misfire—clumsy, mawkish, and oddly hollow. One is tempted to ask whether the sixth-grade poetry class responsible for the album’s cover also moonlighted as lyricists.

Perhaps most jarring are the moments where Lynne attempts to ‘rock.’ It is a mode he has occasionally dabbled in, with mixed results—see the perfunctory Rock ‘n’ Roll Is King from Secret Messages. Here, those impulses are indulged without restraint, and to limited effect. ELO was never built for swagger; they were built for sweep.

Overall this is an indifferent listen. In an era when Lynne’s meticulous craftsmanship should be his hallmark, we are instead given something that feels suspiciously like assembly line product. The listener is left not with the thrill of return, but the vague disappointment of missed opportunity. One can only hope that, should another album emerge, Jeff Lynne will do what he has always done best: retreat into the studio, take his time, and remember that half an hour is only long enough when every second counts.

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