Alt-J, The Dream.

Alt-J didn’t earn their fanbase with their stray references to Hubert Selby or Bret Easton Ellis—they earned it with their catchy tunes, quirky textures, soothing vocals and slick beats. Still, those references hinted that some brains lurked beneath all the dreaminess.

On the U.K. group’s latest LP, The Dream, brains and dreaminess share equal footing. Not only is the music as beguiling as ever, but the lyrics are smart enough to win over snooty singer-songwriter fans. Taken together, their first album since 2017’s Relaxer may be best album to date by Alt-J.

The Dream’s lead track, “Bane,” opens with an oddball sound sample. “Cold and sizzling,” a man says over the sound of a soda can opening. After a slurping noise and a drawn-out, satisfied sigh, the music kicks in with a sinuous guitar line, an ominous synthesizer drone and a chorus of chanting voices. The listener has just enough time to be entranced before the music starts over.

In a halting murmur, Joe Newman sings of drinking “cola, cola, fizzy cola,” even when his parents tell him to stop. Mum and Dad might have a point—a filter on Newman’s voice makes it sound like he’s singing underwater. Jarring bursts of background voices and plopping noises make one wonder if there’s something a little stronger in Newman’s pop.

“U&ME” shakes off the sodden stupor of “Bane” with a mellow groove and a languid guitar line. Their voices shrouded in a sunny haze, Newman and his bandmates sing of a summer holiday spent drinking, cavorting and making music. “I could hold on to the memory of that day for the rest of my life,” Newman croons on the outro. The soothing tune and smooth beat make listeners wish they could, too.

Up next is “Hard Drive Gold,” a bouncy, droll portrait of an ambitious teenage crypto trader. “Don’t be afraid to make, to make money, boy,” Newman sings, but the goofy voice samples hint that this kid’s bubble will burst pretty soon. So does a teacher’s reprimand, which leaves the boy in tears and googling what “neoliberal” means.

“Happier When You’re Gone” opens with a withering put-down from Newman: “’Joe, Joe, Joe/ ‘Only fuckups need clean starts’/ I scream as you come my way.” The slinky R&B groove, swooping melody and glimmering guitar give one hope that he’s not singing about himself.

“The Actor” is another wry character study. This time, Newman depicts a would-be movie star who goes from audition to audition and may like the nose candy a bit too much. Between the chilly synthesizers, the steady-rolling beat and the spacey female harmonies, the song sounds like it could’ve come off the “Drive” film soundtrack.

Next comes the disarmingly intimate “Get Better,” about a man whose partner dies of COVID-19. With the music pared down (mostly) to Newman’s guitar and vocals, listeners are sure to catch details like birthday cards smuggled into the ICU and memories of holding hands in a museum. If those don’t make you cry, the recording of the dearly departed at the end might. The lyrics also feature a welcome salute to frontline workers: “They risk all to be there for us.”

“Chicago” starts off in a similarly subdued fashion before a pumping techno beat and a whining guitar drone come in. Newman’s vocals stay detached throughout, though; it’s as if he’s too bummed out for the city’s vibrancy to fully register. The somberly lilting “Philadelphia” suggests that, despite some nimble beats in the middle, the City of Brotherly Love didn’t help raise Newman’s mood, either.

“Walk a Mile” begins with some barbershop quartet harmonies. Before anyone has time to wonder where that bit came from, they’re carried away by another smooth R&B groove. The band’s voices seem to curl like smoke around the rippling guitar and the supple drums.

The one-minute acapella “Delta” may have listeners asking, “Why are they singing about kneeling to force fields?” Could the next song’s title answer that question? In any case, “Losing My Mind” shifts the focus away with ominous references to 15 missing boys and the eerie refrain, “You and I, cut from the same cloth.”

The final song, “Powders,” closes the album on a more hopeful note, punctuating its blissed-out tune with some bluesy guitar and laughing studio chatter. The song ends with Newman singing over and over, “I’ll get better.” Even if you can’t make out the rest of the lyrics, you believe him.