By Lexie Rodenbaugh | Arts & Life Writer
After a five-year hiatus, The Neighbourhood returned with “((((ultraSOUND))))),” a sprawling, 15-song album that feels like both a homecoming and a reinvention. This isn’t just a rehash of what made them popular in their black-and-white Tumblr-era days; it’s a more introspective, textured work that leans into their strengths while pushing into new emotional and sonic territory.
One of the most striking things about “(((((ultraSOUND)))))” is how it bridges the raw grit of ’90s alt-rock with a contemporary, dreamy sheen. Tracks like “Hula Girl” and “OMG” carry a Brit-pop swagger, while songs such as “Lil Ol Me” dive into fuzzy, psychedelic-rock territory. The production often feels intentionally lo-fi in parts — for instance, “Private” was built around a GarageBand drum loop and a vocal track Jesse Rutherford recorded on his phone. It’s a bold move, and it pays off, giving the record an intimate, unpolished charm.
Lyrically and thematically, the album is deeply self-aware. The Neighbourhood digs into heartbreak, nostalgia, disillusionment and vulnerability with a maturity that feels earned. There’s a sense that they’re reckoning with their legacy — both the mythos they built and the personal cost of being in a band for so long.
Let’s dig into some “(((((ultraSOUND)))))” standouts.
“Lovebomb” is one of the most emotionally charged moments in the collection. Built on a loop by co-writer Jono Dorr and band member Zach Abels, it explores the dizzying, risky act of saying “I love you” too early. The melody is deceptively bright, but the lyrics crackle with uncertainty and longing.
“Private” is more stripped back and vulnerable. The raw vocal recording gives it a confessional feel, as if Rutherford is whispering secrets into your ear.
“OMG” is a resilient anthem about commitment. Over shimmering guitars and soft percussion, Rutherford sings of riding out life’s storms with someone by his side.
“Lil Ol Me” introduces a wild shift in tone — fuzzed-out, intense and almost acidic by the end. It’s one of the riskier tracks, showing that The Neighbourhood isn’t just chasing safe alt-pop hits.
All things considered, “(((((ultraSOUND)))))” isn’t without its flaws. Some fans (and critics) note that while the emotional content is rich, the melodies don’t always land as memorably as they did in their earlier work. The pacing can feel mellow or restrained, especially given the album’s title suggests something more explosive. And while the lo-fi production brings intimacy, it occasionally risks sounding underproduced.
There’s also a sense from a few listeners that the album leans heavily into atmosphere at the expense of dynamic variation. For an album that spans 57 minutes, some of the middle tracks feel more like ambient transitions than fully formed songs.
“(((((ultraSOUND)))))” is a thoughtful and nuanced return for The Neighbourhood. It’s not a grand, glam-rock revival but rather a quieter, more mature reckoning with who they are and where they’ve come from. The album thrives when it leans into vulnerability — on tracks like “Private” and “Lovebomb,” it feels like the band is opening a window to their inner world.
It’s not perfect, but it’s undeniably earnest. For longtime fans, it’s a welcome reappearance. For new listeners, it’s an invitation into a band that knows their shadows as well as their light.
