It seems a lot of folks have weighed in on Imagine Dragons’ newest album, Mercury. Yeah, I’m late to the party, but as it often does, life got in the way and I couldn’t dedicate the time to this right away. So for anyone who still has any interest, here is my take. Please note that I plan to talk about every track, rather than give a proverbial birds’ eye view ─ so if you’re looking for a quick review, best to look elsewhere, as this is about a 15-minute read.
Before diving in, let’s talk up-front about opinions on music. To me, music is a subjective, deeply personal experience. Given that we each hear differently, be it for cultural, experiential, physical or neurological reasons, we each have a different opinion. What might sound like heaven to one person might sound boring, odd, jarring or just plain wrong to others.
Also, from my perspective as a classically-trained musician who has performed and who loves many different kinds of music, I might have specific technical insights, but let’s be clear that this does not make my opinions any better than others ─ just differently-informed. This is the great thing about music: just like humanity itself, music is multifaceted, and there is something out there for everyone to love. Turns out Imagine Dragons is a group whose music has moved me, and so I am writing this from the perspective of a fan/admirer. So! With that said, let’s start.
Imagine Dragons have said on more than one occasion that this album reflects nearly three years of work, and is predicated on lead singer Dan Reynolds’ ‘mercurial’ tendencies (hence the album title). And indeed, this album is quite the roller-coaster ride. Some reviewers have insisted that there is no rhyme or reason to this album, but anyone who knows Imagine Dragons’ music knows that the first impression is not the only one that matters. This band has been playing with listeners’ ears and minds for years, with puzzles, clues and hints in every album (please note that this review will not focus on those fun/infuriating puzzles, clues and hints).
Introduction
To my mind, Mercury - Act I was put together to take us on a journey through many of the emotions that can surround some of life’s most challenging circumstances, including addiction, loss (be it a loss of control, of self, or of a loved one), as well as some of the greatest triumphs to be found in being loving toward oneself or toward others. The juxtaposition of consonant, upbeat songs with hard-edged and sometimes dissonant songs is a key part of the ride.
My sense is that the band has treated this album as an artistic effort, preferring to avoid creating an innocuous, vaguely consumable and forgettable album. Music has the capacity to move us (whether physically, emotionally, or both) and to make us think and question. It is present in nearly every aspect of life from birth to death, and it can mark and shape many moments in our lives. This first volume of what will be a double album has moments to uplift and celebrate, and moments that question and illuminate. Now let’s explore these moments!
1. My Life
Talking with Clash magazine, singer Dan Reynolds comments that "this song was an attempt to peel back my fears and face them". It’s a great start to the album: for those who don’t know Imagine Dragons well, the sound on this track is not the stacked-vocal wall-of-sound that features in many of their mainstream hits. Plucked strings and atmospheric synth at the beginning of the song draw the listener in, and allow the lyrics to shine through. Heading into the second verse, we find bowed strings added to the mix. As Reynolds sings the pre-chorus/bridge ("the years pass by"), we return to the stripped-down sound with minimal support from strings and piano.
And then it gets EPIC.
Shifting to a driving guitar solo from Wayne Sermon (vaguely reminiscent of U2 but still very much his unique style), the sound expands to anchor Reynolds singing the pre-chorus an octave up. This is where the music nerd in me has to geek out about how I find his use of falsetto and the high baritone/tenor “bleat” on certain words so effective - it’s as close as you can get to a crying sound on high notes without actually crying.
The band’s full-blown sound with echoing drums at the height of the song is very effective ─ far more than if it had been present throughout. The build to this climax beautifully compliments the overall theme of the song, which encompasses the uncertainty and occasional bittersweetness of growing older. And the quiet ending is just the right touch to bring it all to a close. This is a beautifully-written, instrumented, performed and produced song. I’d say this one is Grammy-worthy.
2. Lonely
Lonely sounds like more than just a struggle with simple loneliness: we’re given a window into the life of an introvert working in an extroverted profession. Performing onstage (even for a supportive crowd) can be quite lonely, with only fleeting interactions and a significant amount of pressure to rise to audiences’ expectations. The lyrics capture the isolating effects of this particular pressure and anxiety, which can be compounded by underlying mental health issues (a subject that Reynolds discusses openly and which he regularly advocates should be normalized in society). The lyrics highlight the different ways of coping with or masking loneliness ─ sleeping, hiding, "playing the role" etc.
The highlights of this song for me were the juxtaposition of Wayne Sermon’s bright guitar against the darker, more moody sound of Ben McKee’s bass line. Add to that some more poppy synths and a choir of young voices singing, and it all sounds like being taken to church, with the refrain of “oh love/ have mercy/ on me/ and keep me company” to wrap up the sermon.
3. Wrecked
Much has been said about this second single release from the album, and for good reason. I can’t listen to this song without getting emotional (that’s saying a lot for a jaded musician who’s heard, sung and played enough hit-you-in-the-feels-type music that I sometimes have a bad habit of rolling my eyes when a song gets emotional). This beautifully-crafted song captures both the immediate rawness and the lingering, recurring waves of grief after losing a loved one.
While the band produced this track themselves, executive producer Rick Rubin’s influence is clear: when giving initial feedback on the demo of this song, he gave Reynolds nowhere to hide, and the result of this influence is an authenticity and vulnerability that pull incredibly hard on the heartstrings.
The killer for me was learning that the guitar wailing behind the line “”I’ll see you again my loved one” isn’t just a guitar: the sound includes Reynolds’ voice, which has been run through a filter. Sermon’s choice to mix that sound with his guitar to round out the sound was absolutely the right one. From various interviews and posts about this song, it’s clear that it was important to Reynolds to get this one right, as a tribute to his late sister-in-law Alisha Durtschi Reynolds, who passed away from cancer in 2019. The vulnerability in this song, along with key production choices that bring out the emotion conveyed by Reynolds’ voice, make this a key song in Imagine Dragons’ discography.
I think this is a legacy song that his sister-in-law would be proud of.
4. Monday
Ok, I don’t care what anyone else thinks about this song. The first time I heard it, I outright giggled. This light, poppy song is a perfect foil for the heaviness of Wrecked. Talk about a mercurial shift: we’ve gone from the depths of loss and grief to a playful, bubbly, tongue-in-cheek love song.
Highlights in this song include the sonic treat of two guitars playing in separate channels, toying with listeners’ ears. If you haven’t listened to this with two separate speakers or headphones, you’re missing out. Sermon’s guitar work is on-point here, with a gentle stylistic nod of the head to the late guitar great and music legend, Prince.
I love the humour in this song ─ getting a hint of the band’s playful side is refreshing. Listening to the distorted/modulated chords on “rainbow tower”, I chuckle at the thought of the band having fun messing around with the sound in the studio, just to make it silly and fun. And what a funky, cheeky little love note from Reynolds to his wife. This little bit of ear candy is on repeat for me.
5. #1
This song caught my attention immediately in that it was strikingly different from the tracks it followed. The atmospheric synths at the start create a moment of quiet, translucent sound that draws the listener in. And then we get the chill, head-nodding beat punctuated by hand claps. Reynolds' falsetto sound in the pre-chorus “when am I gonna learn” has an interesting filter that creates a sound not featured in the band's sound before. Once again, the band showcases their adeptness at playing, sampling and mixing, creating a track that has depth, sparkle and momentum in the right places to set off the lyrics.
My favourite bit overall had to be the bridge “what do you take me for/ I've been here through it all/ yeah, I'm still here” (I’m a sucker for tight acapella harmonies and a vocal line that hangs juuuuust a bit behind the beat). While I would have enjoyed hearing this little section more fully-developed, it’s not the main theme. It briefly says what it has to say, and then gets out of the way and we return to the self-assured chorus with chill brass backing up Reynolds' sweet voice.
This song is a quieter, more assertive declaration of self: perhaps it’s what Cutthroat might have been if someone had taken it for a spa day to help it calm down and think things through a bit. But I'm getting ahead of myself in mentioning that song. Let's continue the journey and we'll deal with Cutthroat in due course.
6. Easy Come Easy Go
This sweet, reflective song is a quiet gem. For anyone who is neurodivergent (I’m thinking mostly of my fellow ADHDers, here), this could be a theme song: it beautifully depicts the distancing that can happen over time in relationships, as well as the desire to take action that is dogged by an overwhelming inability to do so, not to mention the tendency to let things go because seemingly tiny actions can take a herculean effort (hence the “easy come, easy go”).
This song is mindful of Otis Redding’s Sittin’ On the Dock of the Bay, from a harmonic standpoint ─ a wistful song in a major key (for an interesting explanation of the use of certain harmonies to achieve this effect, check out this YouTube video). The mellowness of Sermon’s guitar and McKee’s bass, the pared-down drums and the sparkling little synth that pops up in the chorus are just right, leaving the listener with the impression that this could be the guys just noodling away in the living room. Add to this Reynolds’ confession that this song is for his best friend in high school from whom he'd grown distant in recent years, and it tugs at the heartstrings all the more. What a beautiful way to apologize to a dear friend for not keeping in touch enough...
7. Giants
From struggling to renew lost friendships, we pivot to a song about addiction. For those who are faint of heart or who prefer the more pop-infused sounds of albums such as Evolve, this one is jarring, especially given the screaming. Yep, screaming.
To those who don’t like the sound of this song, let’s talk about that. Some will say that Reynolds’ rock-style screams on this track are not successful, not pretty enough. To you, I say this ain’t supposed to be pretty. I’d bet real money that Reynolds did other takes of those screams that sounded “nicer”, but the ultimate choice was to make this song not pretty, and I think it was the right choice.
The instrumentation in this song does the lyrics justice. The synth work at the start really sets the mood, and Sermon’s understated guitar, as well as McKee’s bass and Platzman’s drums work together as a unit to anchor the song. Once again, we’re not simply given a constant wall of sound, but instead a song with dynamic range and depth (like we're riding the waves in that "deepest of the deep ends").
This is a snapshot of addiction in its raw, ugly, out-of-control form. It’s not glossed over or glamorized - so when Reynolds croons about “floating up to the ceiling”, he brings us right back down to earth, screaming about “...shaking at night, sweating thе sheets out/ Grinding my teeth out”. This song is a cry to future generations to avoid the dangers and heartbreak of addiction.
It’s clear from various interviews about this album that Imagine Dragons (largely Reynolds, in this case) have wanted to create more forthright and vulnerable songs for a while, and now the courage to leap into that sonic deep end and just scream is finally there. And it’s disturbing. And it’s cathartic. Approaching this song from the perspective of exposing the chaos, pain and utter devastation of addiction makes the whole damn thing sound very different.
This is the kind of art that gets people talking, whether or not they happen to like the work itself. It pushes boundaries. It might not be a top ten hit, and certainly not one to expect to hear often on the tour circuit, but it is nonetheless important. There are too many glamorous takes on addiction, so a song such as this gives those who are recovered a reminder of what they’ve surmounted, or a thread to grab onto for those who are trying to cope one moment at a time. So! If you’re one of the folks who heard this song and went “yuck”, I’d encourage you to listen to it one more time and think about anyone you might know who has faced addiction. You might not like what you hear, but it’s important to hear it all the same.
8. It's Ok
Sonically, we now make a full 180 to something you’d expect to hear on a sun-washed beach, at a late afternoon BBQ, or around a campfire. It’s got some great vintage, 60s-inspired guitar (Wayne Sermon mentioned this in a Tape Notes podcast, talking about using an old Strat: have a listen to the official Tape Notes podcast here), and some fun chorus work with the whole gang singing and clapping ─ but that’s where the vintage vibe ends.
Listening to the upright bass that opens the song, it becomes clear that it’s a looped sample (Reynolds and Sermon talk in some depth on the Tape Notes podcast about how samples can sometimes capture the right vibe and cannot be recreated on-the-spot). So yes, this has a bit of a vintage sound, but with all the modern tools at play. With the rhythm section driving the song forward, it sounds fresh and current.
It’s refreshing to hear a song that deals with bullying, sexuality, toxic masculinity, and mental health in general without turning into a lament or a rant (though those kinds of songs can be awesome, too). A pair of lines summarize the feeling: “Just let me live my truth, that's all I wanna do / Baby, you're not broken, just a little bit confused”. As Reynolds noted to USA Today, “the song is not just LGBTQ-focused – it’s more about acceptance itself and how life is hard and it’s OK to share our hardships with each other.”
This song is timely, regardless as to when exactly it was written in the last three years. It speaks well to society's current state of mind, which has often been far from okay since the start of the pandemic. Can't wait to sing along with this one once the band goes on tour.
9. Dull Knives
Following the bright, sunshiny sounds of It’s Ok, we’re thrown into a song that's vocally, harmonically, and emotionally demanding. The hand of fellow musician (and Dan Reynolds’ better half) Aja Volkman is immediately apparent in this song. Reynolds elaborates to Clash magazine: “ I was really trying to put a sonic sound and feeling to what depression has felt like for me. The brutal numbness of it. And the never-ending desire to shake myself out of it.” This hard-edged song showcases difficult writing, technical vocal mastery and tight ensemble work. For those who prefer Imagine Dragons’ more rock-influenced work, they are at their finest in this true rock song.
The production here is courtesy of Wayne Sermon, and there are some key choices that help capture the essence of the lyrics. Reynolds’ vocals, as it turns out, have almost no effects on them: that distortion that comes through? That’s him vocally blasting the hell out of his microphone at home. When it sounds right, it sounds right!
This vocal line, which ranges from barely more than a whisper to light head voice/falsetto to full-chested rock vocals, aligns beautifully with the text: the leaps, twists and turns evoke the so-called “dull knives / twisting my spine”. Singing in wide-open intervals of sixths and sevenths with very little accompanying instrumentation to use as a reference can be challenging, even to the seasoned singer. This kind of singing (whether singing falsetto in a quiet moment or when sliding in a continuous line from note to note while singing full-voice at top of range) requires real control, and Reynolds has it. And of course, I’m a sucker for guitar solos that complement the piece without overpowering it. Wayne Sermon is particularly skilled at this, and is showy in the right places without coming across as a show-off.
This combination of technical and expressive vocal work, along with a rock-solid, driving ensemble of guitar, bass and drums is a joy to listen to. McKee, Sermon and Platzman truly shine as an ensemble.
10. Follow You
Whether you’re a fan or not, chances are you’ve heard Follow You. This first single from this album, which was released alongside Cutthroat, is perhaps best described as what the Beach Boys might have sounded like had they started their careers in current times. A fun, upbeat song about love and loyalty, this is admittedly Dan Reynolds’ love letter to wife Aja Volkman, penned after they were able to reconcile following a separation and plans for divorce. Reynolds initially had no plans to include it on the album: “My only goal with it originally was just to put a smile on her face when I showed it to her at home” he noted about the song to Clash Magazine.
Once it made its way to Rick Rubin, the Beach Boys-influenced sound got an update, with a more current-sounding, pop-influenced percussion and bass line, and just a hint of gospel organ. A particular treat near the end of the song is Rick Rubin’s addition of Reynolds singing “I will follow you” behind the chorus in falsetto, which rounds out the end of the song without being a slavish duplication of the Beach Boys sound.
It’s a fine line to tread between wanting to pay tribute to an artist/group of artists and creating music that sounds entirely derivative of that artist/group’s sound. Just as Imagine Dragons have done in the past by incorporating sounds influenced by one of Reynolds’ favourite artists, Paul Simon, the hints of other artists' influences are present, but the sound is uniquely Imagine Dragons.
11. Cutthroat
We have once again rounded a corner on our roller-coaster ride and gone from a song of love and dedication to a song about inner struggle. Described by Dan Reynolds as an “exorcism of self pity”, Cutthroat is one of the more harmonically challenging songs to listen to. Percussionist Daniel Platzman’s hand is evident in this open, dark, dissonant, jazz-influenced sound.
The more hard-edged songs on this album are quite vulnerable from a musical standpoint. One wrong note in an open, leaping melody like this, and it flops. Once again, Reynolds delivers a powerhouse performance, juxtaposing two viewpoints using appropriately-matched vocal technique. The timid, self-pitying/self-loathing part is barely above a whisper, and in contrast, the part fighting for self-acceptance and wholeness is basically screaming at the other one that it’s time for it to die. The patience for any self-loathing or recrimination is gone, and Reynolds just lets fly.
Based on past albums and Reynolds’ admitted fondness for hiding behind metaphor, this song is not what many fans have come to expect, and some have said it puts them off the band. To me, this is an evolutionary step for a group of artists who refuse to be pigeonholed and who want to continue exploring and making music together for years to come. I get the sense that this song hits the sonic target they were aiming for but missed on their previous album, Origins.
In my view, Cutthroat is another legacy song ─ one that marks a distinct change of direction for the band as they explore and expand their sound in new directions.
12. No Time For Toxic People
As we near the end of the album, we jump back into those consonant, pop-influenced sounds in an upbeat song about dealing with toxic people and situations in life. This is a catchy little ray of sonic sunshine.
Lyrically, this is an interesting (and in my view, largely successful) blend of directness and metaphor (okay I’m still not completely sure as to the meaning of “what a teacup sound” near the end of the song - unless it refers to Paul Simon’s lyrics about love and aging in the song Overs? Ok, it's fun to speculate, but really, it might have no meaning whatsoever. This is a great example of how lyrics can leave fans guessing just a little bit). From a technical perspective, this song is less demanding on Reynolds’ voice, sitting slightly lower and requiring none of the grittiness of the more rock-inspired songs on this album. A particular treat is McKee’s chill bass line, which anchors the song and is a great foil for the high, sparkling synths.
While it might seem less "deep" than other numbers on this album, it’s still a clear statement about focusing on supportive relationships ("I want to spend my life with those who've done me right") and a positive mindset. This is a nice song to keep in your back pocket for days when you need a little bit of sunshine as a pick-me-up.
13. One Day
A lovely note to end the album on, this song is simple, straightforward and charming. This quiet reggae-influenced song brims with hope and imagination for a better world for the future. It could be a lullaby for loved ones, with its simple acoustic sounds and gentle rhythms.
The only thing I could want in this song or in this album would be to hear Sermon, McKee and Platzman’s voices more often: personally, I find that too many layers of Reynolds’ voice (call it "The Wall of Dan"?) sometimes overshadow its uniqueness . This is the one aspect of Mercury - Act I that makes me wish the band had held onto the soundscape from earlier albums such as Night Visions and Smoke and Mirrors, where Reynolds’ voice was not quite so omnipresent. To my ears, more vocal variety would allow individual lines and harmonies to shine through.
Overall, however, this song is a refreshing and fitting way to end Act I. It’s a reassuring, gentle finish to a real emotional roller-coaster ride, and leaves me very much looking forward to what kind of a ride the band will take listeners on in Act II.
Epilogue
For those who have made it all the way to the end of this very long review, thanks for reading! Below is a series of sources with information and interviews about the album: my particular favourite is the Tape Notes podcast with Dan Reynolds and Wayne Sermon talking to host John Kennedy, which has quite a bit of technical depth to it. I hope that you will feel free to share this review and I am always interested in your perspectives on this album and Imagine Dragons’ music in general.
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