Track by Track: The 1975 release Notes On A Conditional Form

The 1975 - Notes On A Conditional Form

For an album that has taken months to arrive and been pushed back more times than there are tracks, Notes On A Conditional Form had to prove a lot. It had to be coherent and polished. And it is that but It is also, frankly, a bit of a mess.

There are instrumentals all over the place and whilst The 1975 are experts in orchestral, cinematic instruments that could come straight out of a film soundtrack – these ones, at times, feel a little unnecessary. NOACF feels unfiltered and unedited – there are no longer boundaries to what The 1975 have to talk about, what they have to sound like and what they have to look like. It’s hard to even recognise that it’s The 1975 in places, which in the end, is what makes it such an unapologetically genius album. It’s no longer an album for the world, it’s an album for the fans.

The 1975 (NOACF) 

If you’ve been around for a while you’ll know that every version of this eponymous sonic experience defines its era perfectly. From the back-alley and midnight-drive laced imagery of the original ‘The 1975’ to the auto-tuned vocals and a piano soundscape of ‘A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships’ (2018). NOACF’s offerings are more politically charged – taking the essence of everything the band believes in and exhibiting it through the vehicle of one of the strongest female voices of the 21st Century. Greta Thunberg’s political activism is given centre-stage when the well-known previous lyrics are removed and we are instead instructed that ‘it is time to rebel’.

People

And rebel they did. Years of Indie Rock and Indie Pop gatekeeping has been dismantled in the form of one song. ‘People’ doesn’t let you debate it. Healy’s vocals soar, or rather scream, across the track – demanding that we wake up to the political and ecological problems that we all ignore by just ‘watching shit in bed’. Gone are the days where The 1975 are famous for writing a song about chocolate, guns and petticoats and instead they should be known as the architects of a revolution. ‘People’ is heavy and confrontational, it’s a protest stitched into the riffs and shrieks of a two minute and 40 seconds song.

The End (Music For Cars)

The first instrumental of the album is aptly named. With direct reference to an earlier EP and the era in which this album is set, the track feels cinematic and nostalgic. The twinkle of earlier instrumentals hum throughout and it positions itself as the sprawling soundtrack of a motion picture about The 1975. It is reminiscent of a Brian Eno record but situated between two heavily conflicting tracks that it appears as if a buffer between the two, very far points of the band’s sonic spectrum.

Frail State of Mind

Illustrating intimate feelings of anxiety, the lyrics tell us of an inward-facing battle between always worrying and wasting the time of those who reach out to help. Set above a jittering drum-beat and Healy’s low-raspy vocals, the audience can relate to the transparency of the song. It speaks of a phenomenon that affects enough of us that it ought to be a protest song like ‘People’ but instead is written and performed with a sensibility that leaves us feeling like we’re being personally addressed by the band. Which, of course, means that it is perfectly acceptable to leave a party at 9pm.

Streaming

Just one song later we are met again with another instrumental but one that blends seamlessly from the end of Frail State of Mind. This one felt far too familiar and it was almost as if it was a subtle remix of their earlier instrumentals and did raise the question on whether two instrumentals within a song of each other was too many. But, of course, in true The 1975 style – it was much deeper than that. Streaming has since become the background track to Mindshower AI – an online rehab for a digital detox. Mindshower continues to be a running theme of the album with ‘The Birthday Party’, which follows the track both thematically but sonically. The glistening beat of ‘Streaming’ continues before we hear the faint chattering of a party.

The Birthday Party

The Birthday Party is one of my personal favourites from the album. It combines the slowness of some of the more emotional songs, but without the sadness. Instead, it feels as if it’s a release. A calming recollection of the internet, of drugs, of the ‘weird stuff’ related to American Rock Band Pinegrove’s sexual assault allegations and of how Healy will never be able to afford an Ed Ruscha print. The Birthday Party is an inward exploration of a bunch of house-party scenarios floating around Healy’s head but delivered in the form of a hazy saxophone-enveloped banger. The music video is straight out of a Black Mirror episode, but one where all the scenes glitched and everything just happens in an intense, visual spectacle we expect no less from The 1975.

Yeah I know

A flute-like, malfunctioning machine can be heard as ‘Yeah I Know’ opens. It is unlike any The 1975 song we’ve ever heard before. It’s a strange hybrid of feeling as if you’re in a dodgy club in East London with a practising DJ who hasn’t quite learnt the ropes yet but somehow balanced with the distinctiveness of Healy’s vocals that we can’t forget that it is them.

Then Because She Goes

The strongest opening of the album, ‘Then Because She Goes’ is a grower. On the first listen it was hard not to find the intensity of the track off-putting as well as occurring inability to understand Healy’s vocals. However, on the second or third listen I was singing along to an auto-tuned Mancunian telling me he loved me. The choruses are heavily rooted in The 1975’s distinctive style and already seems like something I’ll want to listen to again and again.

Jesus Christ 2005 God Bless America

Somewhere on the internet there is a random song-title generator and The 1975 have definitely used it for this one. Luckily the song is more coherent and actually, fairly beautiful. Healy’s vocals feel fragile and vulnerable, but it really adds to the track. It is sonically, very empty. It could have fallen flat following ‘Then Because She Goes’, but with a combination of emotionally-weighted lyrics and a simple acoustic soundscape that forces the listener to really listen – it becomes powerful. Interestingly, the band decided not to include Phoebe Bridger’s in the credit for the single, in hopes that her appearance would be an interesting surprise to listeners of the soft and haunting track. Perhaps a short-sighted decision given The 1975’s stance on gender equality in the music industry but it certainly elevated the song when she joined.

Roadkill

The 1975? Sorry, I only know Drive Like I Do. The song feels very reminiscent of the earlier records and there is a definite retraction to their earlier style but with a country flair. However, there is nothing old about the lyrics. ‘Roadkill’ is so inwardly written it might as well be an open letter. Healy talks of taking ‘shit for being quiet during the election’, where The 1975 were criticised for their stance of being a politically-charged band that didn’t voice their opinion during the 2019 UK election. He goes on to question why his songs that are being played on the radio station and always met with ‘mugging me off all across the nation’, referencing the music industry’s incessant need to criticise the band whilst still playing their songs daily. Risky but admirable from a band who time after time make records for the fans, rather than to be consumed by the industry.

The 1975 - Notes On A Conditional Form - Chuff Media

Press photo by Mara Palena

Me & You Together Song

Arguably the most nostalgic song on Notes, Me & You Together Song just aches of tales of being young and in love. The video is a further catalyst in making us feel like we’re back in the 1990s and writing love letters in pink fluffy diaries and listening to cassettes. This song reveals sincerity and honesty in the band. We can relate to Healy’s dreamings and reminisce of lost loves. And if nothing else, we can all categorically agree that Winter Wonderland is not worth the queue.

I Think There’s Something You Should Know

This song is another one of those occasions when The 1975 make a song that can very easily be played in a dark room with flashing lights – but whether it should be, remains in question. The song is upbeat – a repetitive soundscape is met with Healy’s again, autotuned vocals. It shows the genius of Daniels’ production skills as it flawlessly embeds the layers together. It’s a sad song showing the inner turmoil of Healy – but that’s about it.

Nothing Revealed / Everything Denied

With a jazz number that smoothly fits around the very same religious chants and a chorus that we’ve heard in ILIWYS ‘If I Believe You’, the song feels very reminiscent of the earlier track, and in fact of The 1975’s history. We learn that Healy didn’t ‘fuck in a car’ as he suggested in Love It If We Made It and that he was lying when he said we can ‘figure a heart out’, like in ‘Heart Out’. The song kind of feels like a retraction of everything the band stands for – the powerful political statements made previously and the short quote destined to decorate a 14-year-old’s Tumblr blog have all been, well, denied. Healy argues you should ‘learn about yourself before you talk it, they need to see you walk it’ – perhaps a commentary on the insecurities of life on a pedestal and how with constant surveillance of an entire fanbase, Healy is left forever exposed.

Tonight ( I Wish I Was Your Boy)

Early observations of this track: are the introduction and the main song socially distancing? Because, well, they are incredibly different. The main song is the upbeat, repetitive and destined to get stuck in your head. The romance of a love song that although frequently questions the validity of the love, reconfirms everything with a heartfelt demand. The lyrics are intimate but cheeky, a pretty standard requirement of a bop from The 1975.

Shiny Collarbone

There’s an ongoing debate on whether The 1975 are indie, or pop, or rock and to be fair, this album was already going to break down some of those boundaries. I didn’t quite think it was going to introduce the fourth one – in the form of house music? ‘Shiny Collarbone’ never really clears up why it is called that, or what that means but is certainly refreshing. It samples the distinctive opening to ‘It’s Not Living (If It’s Not With You)’ and there is some sonic mirroring to that weird bit in the track ‘I Like It When You Sleep For You Are So Beautiful Yet So Unaware Of It’. It is a song for a rave and we’re kind of enjoying it.

If You’re Too Shy (Let Me Know) 

When this song first echoed around UK arenas on their February tour, an entire fanbase fell in love with it. Very quickly modern-bootleg versions appeared online with the more devoted fans guessing the lyrics (which, let’s be honest, kudos to them because it’s a challenge). It was set to be the song of the summer – particularly given their huge, yet now postponed, festival at Finsbury Park in July with Charli XCX, Clairo, Pale Waves and more. Despite a change to summer as we know it, ’If You’re Too Shy’ still encapsulates feelings of online intimacy and vulnerability laced in the form of a shimmering and soaring pop ballad.

Playing On My Mind

‘Playing On My Mind’ is an intimate journal entry… One where Healy questions what plays on his mind. Will he always be in a band? Will he get divorced? It’s a series of questions to himself but layered inside a beautifully soft track that is deep and complex but digestible. It’s standing out as one of my personal favourites so far, probably as it is so similar to some of the similar ballads we heard at the end of ABIIOR, which brings in sprinklings of nostalgia we expect from the band.

Having No Head

‘Having No Head’ is yet another instrumental, but a complex one. It opens and closes with the same rhythm and soft twinkling we’ve heard before but in the middle, well, something peculiar happens. It’s kind of as if Shiny Collarbone and The End (Music For Cars) had a child, but they didn’t really like it so they just stuck it between their other two really good kids in the hope’s that nobody would notice. It is another example of how The 1975 have no boundaries on this album, anything goes.

What Should I Say

And on that note, ‘What Should I Say’ is incredible. Featuring vocals from FKA twigs – it’s the sound of the summer that ‘If You’re Too Shy’ wanted to be. It’s memorable and whilst it would be very easy to forget what band you’re listening to – it’s sonically and lyrically so strong that we’re kind of okay with that. It has been compared to the likes of Kayne West’s ‘Pablo’, which is a pretty fair comparison but one that you would never suggest The 1975 would be compared to just a few years ago. ‘What Should I Say’ envelopes their experimentation and growth in a neat, four-minute and seven-second package.

Bagsy Not In Net

By this song, this kind of repetitive opening is getting boring. It feels as if every song is spaced with another sort-of-instrumental with a couple of lyrics and that there probably wasn’t much need for an album with 22 songs. This song show’s how strong the production values of The 1975 are at present and the strength of their musicianship. But they don’t seem to bring anything to the album, except that it is undeniable that one day – The 1975 will need to write a film score.

Don’t Worry

Tim Healy, Matty’s father, wrote this song when he was just a toddler and now decades later they collaborate on it and release it on the band’s fourth studio album. It has quite an emotional and personal cyclical nature to it. Soft and quiet in its nature but with lyrics that would evoke a tear in almost everyone. It naturally doesn’t sound quite the same as The 1975, but why would it? Perhaps it’s time that fans and music journalists forgot about their sound and just let them make an album that has absolutely no boundaries.

Guys

The 1975 are fairly experienced in finishing an album with a song that is destined to leave you sobbing. Notes is no different. The first album concludes with a song about Healy’s brother Louis, ILIWYS an emotional recollection of his mother’s post-natal depression and lastly an inward exploration of the role of death within his life in ABIIOR. ‘Guys’ takes on these elements but reformats them into a love-letter to Daniel, Hann and MacDonald – celebrating the last twenty years as a band. The song is sentimental and real – it self-strips The 1975 of their celebrity-status and instead makes us remember that they are, when all is said and done, just four friends in their golden years. If you didn’t want to start a band before you finished this album, you’d want to now.


As you reach the end of Notes On A Conditional Form, it is very easy to forget the critique you had of it earlier. It all kind of fits together. Sure there are moments where you forget which band you’re listening to, or you kneel and pray that there won’t be another instrumental – but it’s their album. The 1975 have proved that it’s not really about creating records that sell anymore, about records that win awards and records that are played on the radio – it’s about creating records. They could have decided not to risk it all on releasing Shiny Collarbone or calling out their fans for caring too much about their personal lives. They could have taken 10 songs off, written a Girls 2.0 and watched the reviews fly in. But that wouldn’t have been authentic. It wouldn’t have been so self-aware and critical. This album has taught us that it’s all about the fans now. It’s about making music for people to enjoy, and to involve their most dedicated fans alongside the creative process. In the form of Mindshower, The 1975 released creative assets: artwork documents, audio stems and marketing material and encouraged fans to play their part in the era.

To use a cliche, Notes on A Conditional Form is like a jigsaw puzzle. But the pieces are a little broken on the edges. They still fit together but there are some gaps where things don’t quite match up. But we can still play with it, so it does its job.