Sharon Van Etten takes an artistic risk that pays off with her debut full-band album ‘Sharon Van Etten & The Attachment Theory,’ a record that may or may not be about the TV show ‘Seinfeld.’

Stream: ‘Sharon Van Etten & The Attachment Theory’ – Sharon Van Etten

Sharon Van Etten gave an interview to The New Yorker recently about Sharon Van Etten & The Attachment Theory (Feb. 7, Jagjaguwar), the follow-up to her 2022 album We’ve Been Going About This All Wrong, and the first written and recorded with the full collaboration of her band.

In the piece, Van Etten explained that Seinfeld has “been the steadfast show that I’ve seen as a kid and through my adulthood, and it’s even my son’s favorite show.”

Further investigation reveals that Van Etten’s 2022 song “Mistakes” contains the line “I dance like Elaine,” a reference to the often-parodied cultural touchstone that is the highly awkward dancing by the Seinfeld character Elaine Benes in the episode entitled “The Little Kicks.”

When this fun fact was mentioned online by another “Seinfeld” obsessive at the time, Van Etten replied, “Ha ha! Thanks for noticing. ‘Seinfeld’ definitely still brings me great comfort after all these years. Elaine Benes has always been my favorite character.”

I wondered if Van Etten saw the dynamic of The Attachment Theory as an opportunity to conceptually expand on her love of Seinfeld. I mean, I had to wonder, right?!

Sharon Van Etten & The Attachment Theory – Sharon Van Etten

Not only does Van Etten endear me to her as a person with the reveal of her Seinfeld devotion, but it is likely contributing to the understated and pleasant presence I hear in her vocals as they make themselves known amid the pulsing of the new album’s first notes.

It makes so much sense that The Attachment Theory was recorded at the Eurythmics’ former studio as the surreal science fiction of “Live Forever” is cut by Van Etten’s glassy voice that shivers and shimmers as the echo is piled on top of it.

When she sings, “Who wants to live forever?” it could be a question or a rallying cry. The album was produced by Marta Salogni, who has worked with Björk. The avant-garde beats Salogni dials up are okay by me, but the sneaky, taunting bass playing by Devra Hoff keeps my attention throughout this record.

Sharon Van Etten & The Attachment Theory is: Sharon Van Etten (Lead Vocals, Guitar), Jorge Balbi (Drums, Machines), Devra Hoff (Bass, Vocals), & Teeny Lieberson (Synth, Piano, Guitar, Vocals) © Devin Oktar Yalkin

The new band dynamic feels authentic, if not obvious, early on. Like a Kubrick film, I am trusting the auteur even when I am saying to myself, “What the hell is happening here?” As album openers go, I have settled into my seat when Van Etten’s voice apexes at 2:16, and the snare that no man-made gives way to a human drummer.

The sad quirk of Aimee Mann pops to mind, which is saying a lot as I go to Mann for those qualities already. However, Van Etten is bringing an element of rock star power that isn’t really Aimee’s thing and elevates this thrown-gauntlet moment.

I love it when an album opens with bombast. It wrestles you into the place it wants you to be. The place it believes you need to be to experience the record on its own terms. Turn it up or turn it off.

Singles tend to be safe. Every artist approaches their fanbase with new material, knowing judgment is at the ready. As it is, “Afterlife,” the album’s first single, is this. The groove is solid, but doesn’t make good on The Attachment Theory’s gripping opener.

“Idiot Box” is undoubtedly a commentary on the most well-known Seinfeld episode and character, The Soup Nazi. Who else could Van Etten be referencing when she sings “All that skin against the glass,” as we have all seen this nefarious sitcom character behind his serving station, his “Idiot Box,” where some diner’s food fortunes are made and others dashed.

When Elaine casually taps on the counter’s stainless steel, we all feel like we’re in big trouble. Van Etten brings that same feeling of unease on this cut, building tension, and never letting it release, setting up the rest of the record to come like a pro.

Everyone on the idiot box
Come on outside let me hear those thoughts
Call me out with the blue light eyes
Nervous, tired, desensitized.
Let it go.
“Let’s go!”

All that skin against the glass
All that skin against the glass
All these things we think we lack
All this time we can’t get back.

“Trouble” is patient, letting bassist Hoff have the room to underpin Van Etten’s misty cloud cover that never develops into a downpour. No umbrella needed!

Clearly, the band has the legendary Seinfeld episode “The Chinese Restaurant” in mind, where we see our characters waiting for a table throughout the show’s duration. That groundbreaking bit of TV makes quick work of 22 minutes, and the five minutes of “Trouble” feels similarly breezy, even though it is sonically still.

“Indio” offers up the album’s first sub-four-minute track and serves as a bit of quick heat amidst the record’s stream of lengthier set pieces so far. The song is giving “Boys Don’t Cry” vs. Cocteau Twins vibes and is as scorching a bit of a burn as we have seen since the Seinfeld show “The Chicken Roaster,” in which Jerry and Kramer change apartments when the blinding neon sign of the Kenny Rogers fried poultry joint intrudes through the window.

Perhaps there is a Kenny Rogers influence on this song that I am not hearing here? I will listen again.

Sharon Van Etten & The Attachment Theory © Susu Laroche

“I Can’t Imagine (Why You Feel This Way)” continues to justify Van Etten’s new band dynamic. It feels natural and speaks to her explanation of how “for the first time in my life I asked the band if we could just jam.”

No wonder this song was the first to come from this experiment.

Devra Hoff is the hero again. If Van Etten said “jam,” then Hoff totally got the assignment. The song moves with an urgent purpose, making it the album’s most memorable. “He’s the right guy,” Van Etten sings, drawing out the line for full impact and reminding that this song is probably about the Seinfeld episode “The Deal,” in which former couple Jerry and Elaine decide to embark on a “friends with benefits” relationship.

The excitement of renewed romance aligns with the exhilaration of the new mode of composition that brought about this cut. As it turns out, Jerry was not the “right guy” for Elaine (again.) Perhaps Van Etten will address this later in the record?

I can’t imagine that “I Can’t Imagine (Why You Feel This Way)” foreshadows a breakup of The Attachment Theory.

Quite the opposite!

In fact, I hope that The Attachment Theory is a band that endures, as its charms are only being defined as its debut album rolls on. Following up on my favorite track so far, “Somethin’ Ain’t Right,” is what makes me feel that way.

“Do you believe in compassion for enemies?” Van Etten sings. This is what all of us should be asking ourselves these days. While “I Can’t Imagine (Why You Feel This Way)” holds its own as the album’s most enjoyable moment, it’s “Somethin’ Ain’t Right” that gives me hope.

Van Etten has earned a reputation, as many great songwriters do, of being shrouded in mystery while still being utterly relevant as an observer and conveyor of truth. “Somethin’ Ain’t Right” is the storyline of the Seinfeld finale in which the main characters end up in jail. Consider me arrested!

“Southern Life (What It Must Be Like)” is the second song that came out of The Attachment Theory’s initial “jam session,” and like the Seinfeld episode “The Contest,” it is the band’s attempt to be “master of their domain.” They are largely successful.

I’d like to know if The Attachment Theory will be stretching these songs out on tour. I hear sludge-punk like a slowed-down Sleater-Kinney, and keyboard swells halfway through that are begging to be elaborated on. This cut has a creeping psychedelic edge that betrays its relatively short running time. These disparate sonic suggestions can be summed up if The Attachment Theory takes a cue from the master, Robert Smith, on how to draw out a five-minute instrumental before the vocal kicks in.

The Attachment Theory’s final two tracks, “Fading Beauty” and “I Want You Here,” comprise almost 13 minutes of music that together play as a landscape. While it is not unheard of for Van Etten to break the six-minute mark on record, a quick look at her discography shows that this has not happened in nearly a decade.

Similarly, Seinfeld was on the air for nearly a decade. Another easter egg from Van Etten and The Attachment Theory? I get it!

Special shout-out to Van Etten’s Siouxsie-style vocals on the album closer. Again, I will be curious about reports from the road as to how these songs develop in a live setting. If they start to take on a life of their own, and the suggestion that the band “jam” becomes less of a request and more of a default, audiences will be in for a treat.

Van Etten’s calculated late-career risk to redefine who she is as an artist while challenging her devoted audience pays off. Unlike Seinfeld, the debut album by Sharon Van Etten & The Attachment Theory is not “about nothing.” The results are actually really something.

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