He’s got ironic deflection down to a science, knowing when to tug the heartstrings and when to snip them (remember “But a loser never wins/And I’m a loser, always been”?). Holo Boy’s languid, swaggering reinterpretations bring a new confidence to the humorous self-effacement that’s endemic to the Lorelei universe, even suggesting Amos’ compassion for the person he was at the time he originally recorded them. On the original “I Can’t Fall,” quavering strings and breathy falsetto imbue a jaunty melody with unshakeable anxiety; on this re-recording, though, Amos croons in his lower register, and the orchestral swell, richer than ever, pulls the Beach Boys lever. Fuller guitars and clearer vocals on “Dreams Away” bring vital force to a song that previously conveyed mostly resignation: Singing “I’ve been sleeping all my life/And now I gotta wake up,” he sounds actually excited about the prospect.
Some tracks don’t get as drastic a makeover. “SF & GG” and “Money Right Now,” both originally from a 2021 single, benefit from a couple instrumental flourishes that reveal more twinkle behind the eyes, but they sound fuzz-shorn rather than wholly revamped. “Mouth Man” is arguably the one song that shouldn’t have been cleaned up: The distorted, atonal vocal melodies, piano chords, and inexplicably awesome clanging that created such tightly controlled chaos in the original feel slapdash when they’re sanded down.
But when Amos hams it up, it just works: On lead single “Name the Band,” originally a jangly, lightweight affair, he puts some bass in his voice and beefs up the boy-band guitars to head-bopping effect. And by letting his voice come to the forefront of “This Is a Joke,” the blasé act falls to the wayside in lieu of undeniably charming vulnerability.
Holo Boy doesn’t go out of its way to experiment or provoke, but its emphasis on reinterpretation is strangely moving, particularly at this point in Amos’ career. He’s spoken at length about his recent sobriety, about reevaluating his expectations for his solo work, and about how, pre-Box for Buddy, he approached Lorelei as something like a tongue-in-cheek study on singer-songwriter tropes. On Holo Boy, Amos sounds like he’s found genuine joy in taking This Is Lorelei seriously: ready to poke fun at being a singer-songwriter and to whole-heartedly affirm its importance.
