My Morning Jacket, “Is.”

Listening to My Morning Jacket’s new record Is makes you realize there’s a lot of good news there.

First, it’s their 10th record. For a band that hasn’t caved to big trends and still chooses to play its own type of hybrid pop-country-rock (but softer), to be doing it so long is pretty miraculous in 2025.

Second bit of good news (for lovers of 1970s culture): It’s easy to hear a lot of ’70s TV, movies and overall soft rock here, which isn’t bad in a world that’s come to cringe at the idea of “soft rock.” That stuff was huge, upbeat and accompanied a lot of fringe fashion. And by fringe, I mean fringe jackets.

But it’s not all soft.

Third bit of good news: An angry world is ready for either angrier music or nice, upbeat music. Or both. It allows people to calm down and dig some upbeat groove.

I did say “dig.” I almost added a “y” at the end of “groove.”

Is there any bad news? Not to fans familiar with the routine. For its first record since 2021’s self-titled LP, My Morning Jacket recruited three-time Grammy-winning producer Brendan O’Brien (Bruce Springsteen, Pearl Jam, Prophets of Rage) to bring the mix of American influences to the masses.

Well, maybe not the masses. But at least to fans and newer lovers of real music that builds, has layers, has catchy choruses and was created with some real emotion.

Album launcher “Out in the Open” is fresh and upbeat, with a good keyboard hook underlying an even catchier vocal line. There are layers and real emotion and craftsmanship — strategically placed to start listeners off in the right headspace.

“Half a Lifetime” is a choppy, whimsical contradiction to the opener. For My Morning Jacker, it’s probably a rocker, which gets better once the chop settles and flows. Singer-guitarist Jim James will conjure multiple instances of George Harrison on Is, the first being here.

It’s so easy to add and subtract instruments to make songs less repetitive and more of a journey. It’s just stunning more bands don’t do so. Especially with a countermelody, at which these guys are very good.

“Everyday Magic” could be a descriptor of MMJ’s approach at times. This almost sounds like a ’70s designated “happy” song a band would write to keep people from thinking it’s depressing. Though I don’t think that is the case here. The hook just grows on the ears.

“I Can Hear Your Love” drifts along dreamily, with more shades of Harrison writing in a hammock on a Caribbean island beach. Sometimes all you need is a vibe, a good mood and some good vocals.

“Time Waited” is the record’s first single, which at first listen reminded me of a ’70s country and pop mix, like something Mac Davis would do on a variety show. Like those acts that didn’t care if anyone thought they were cool, which was always refreshing. Then that beautifully repetitive piano riff grabs you and takes turns with some 10CC-ish vocals that, combined, are pretty irresistible. Especially when it takes a breather for a guitar break before it all kicks in again. A great song.

The born a few decades late theme continues on “Beginning From the Ending,” with easy rock vibes from keys, acoustic guitar, some doobie-doobie-doo vocal counter melodies and straight piano. Another very good song that improves with more listens.

By now, you get the idea James just opens his mouth and quality upbeat vocal lines come bursting out. “Lemme Know” is another example of a band knowing when to pull back and when to jump back in.

Remember the analogy of My Morning Jacket songs with ’70s TV? Well, “Squid Ink” is the one from the cop show. It’s funky with a determined mid-tempo edge. And, as if on cue, here come the prog-rock keyboard twists and a big guitar solo. Just great stuff.

“Die For It” keeps the groove alive, with more guitar. It might be a bit long, but gets away with it because the groove is catchy.

Album closer “River Road” is moody and more quiet, but also benefits from additional listens and more time to hear the build-ups and changes. It breathes and moves, but not so much to ever lose the mood. I like the contradiction of a chorus repeating “ready, set, go” at the end of the record. Perhaps it means there’s plenty more coming after album no 10.