Creature of Habit by Courtney Barnett

Review: Courtney Barnett - Creature of Habit

Having spent the previous several years doing almost everything but rocking out—a live acoustic album; a record full of moody tunes and drum machines; an ambient, all-instrumental movie soundtrack—Courtney Barnett gets back around to barnstorming on Creature of Habit. And that rocking return seems like it couldn't have come a moment too soon, because even when the subject matter turns dark and soul-searching, she sounds like she's having a blast. 

Naturally any Barnett album (except for that aforementioned film score) is guaranteed to be piled high with trenchant prose, and this one doesn't undo that truism. From the existential plaint "One Thing at a Time" to the psychological carnage of "Stay in Your Lane," the Australian song machine churns out lyrics that flow so organically you nearly don't notice how much craft is packed into them. As ever, her writing is the embodiment of the old W.B. Yeats couplet about versifying, "If it does not seem a moment's thought, our stitching and unstitching has been naught."

And Barnett's putting plenty of sonic combustion behind her words. "Stay in Your Lane" kicks things off with a relentless, post-punky attack sharp enough to slice off a body part if you're not careful. The clomping beat and chomping riffs of "Great Advice" are the perfect vehicle for the deadpan kiss-off the lyrics deliver. When she's easing off the gas pedal a bit, as on the breezy, burnished "Wonder," there's still so much momentum that the track somehow feels speedier than its actual midtempo pace.

As anybody who's ever seen her in concert knows, Barnett can also wring a bloody riot out of her guitar whenever she's in the mood. She picks her spots to bear that notion out on Creature of Habit. The second half of "One Thing at a Time" in particular will thrill anybody who'd been awaiting the recorded return of Barnett the axe slinger, as she takes a six-string blowtorch to the track for a couple of glorious minutes, with guest bassist (and album release day twin) Flea matching her intensity step for step.

Of course, Barnett can cool things down just as handily, a fact borne out by "Mostly Patient," a generous dollop of deep compassion delivered with only her own voice and guitar. But whatever pace she's operating at, Barnett's always digging as incisively as possible into the messy business of being human, sharing the revelations big and small that she discovers along the way. © Jim Allen/Qobuz