SHINee - ‘Don’t Call Me’ Album Review

There’s no denying that SHINee are K-Pop royalty. After all, their ‘Princes of K-Pop’ moniker feels only natural given the chart-dominating, sonically rich history the group have. From electronically-infused anthems akin to “Everybody”, to ‘80s tinged retro floor-fillers (“1 of 1”) all the way to the permeating moombahton rhythms of an offering like “Who Waits For Love,” nothing has ever been out of the picture for SHINee when it comes to their discography. Uncompromisingly diverse, the chameleon-like charms of the foursome gives them an unpredictable, bold appeal, and their ever-changing, inclusive soundscapes serve as an ample a testament to their wholly adventurous nature.

It comes as no surprise then that Don’t Call Me, the group’s first release in almost three years - thanks to mandatory military service - was more than just highly anticipated. Fortunately though, the nine-track offering delivers on its substantial hype and proves that, even if it has been over 29 months, SHINee haven’t missed a single beat.

Proceedings open with the titular “Don’t Call Me,” a brooding dance track which draws from hip-hop influences to amalgamate a refreshingly unique sound. Chock full of 808 bass and subtly atmospheric synths before a staccato ear worm pre-chorus kicks-in, it's a magnetically appealing opener which fixates on a romantic betrayal. Cemented by a lively hook, it retains an intriguing charm throughout, and is a track which excels more in creativity than in pure sonic enjoyment. Its vocoded effects do become slightly worn on repeat listens, but overall “Don’t Call Me” is a bold, sharp-witted title-track which boasts a decidedly rhythmic return to self-assured confidence for the foursome.

“Heart Attack” follows, which swaps the brazen instrumental conviction for warm, wobbling airy synths and a style which is undeniably much more familiar to SHINee. The flashes of rhythm guitar help the song attain a strong sense of melody, whilst the grand, punchy chorus gives it a flawlessly danceable, sleek resonance. It’s an excellent way to build on the subtlety of the title-track by charismatically favouring pop maximalism, and the track stands out as one of the finer B-side cuts in the group’s entire discography.

From there, “Marry You” slows things down slightly with an understated R&B ballad syringed with fervent harmonies and an elastic synth backdrop. The drum pad percussion weaves its way around each member’s vocals in the verses extremely well, whilst the coiling bass adds a palpable groove. It’s nothing too original, but still works well as a gushing love song filled with polish.

But, if what had come before was exciting if not occasionally a tad routine for the K-Pop group, “CØDE” is where the record starts to excel. Fortified with vibrating, supple synths and dreamy vocals in the verses, the explosive electronic chorus then soars with a lusciously high-energy melody and a pull-no-punches style of rhythm. It’s quintessential SHINee, and the kind of blitzing pop offering they’ve made their name for creating.

“I Really Want You” continues the momentum, with its funk-tinged instrumentals aiding in creating a welcoming, accessible pop offering which rapidly dispatches its verses before a hooky, harmonised chorus ups the slap-bass with tinges of brass and flashy synths. It’s unrelenting fun, and a speedy halfway point in the album which feels more like a lively awakening rather than a phase for the audience to catch their breath.

“Kiss Kiss” does return to a more understated approach, however, riding a comfortable groove on its stringent bassline for a large chunk of its runtime. Only complemented by condensed drum beats and cosy synths in the verses, the chorus does up the ante with luscious harmonies and a rhythm guitar riff akin to Daft Punk but aside from that, everything stays rather intentionally low-key until its euphoric climax. It’s the sort of pop offering everyone attempts, but few pull off as skilfully as they'd like to, yet SHINee ensure that it still has their unique colour present throughout and, no matter how instrumentally formulaic the track may be, it never falls into the category of generic.

“Body Rhythm,” a reggae-imbued track, adds a bit more sensuality into the LP, with its catchy hook an effortlessly rhythmic section which feels like an audible representation of a body roll. The sleek, refined vocals particularly stand out here, with the chemistry of each member omnipresent throughout a digestible three minutes. It’s another terrific b-side on an album full of them, and a mature-sounding cut befitting of the experienced foursome.

As things begin to wind down, “Attention” delivers one final piece of R&B euphoria. Elastic synth lines bend around plodding drum pads in the smooth, elegant verses, before the rhythmic chorus punctuated by whistles delivers a sleek, spacious section full of personality. It’s a perfectly placed song which otherwise might have found itself lost in the shuffle, operating as a lively penultimate effort which smooths out the sonic edges before “Kind,” a vocoder-heavy, poignant pop track delivers a gut-punch of emotional vehemence. Entirely emotional, it’s a show-stealing curtain-closer which leaves an impactful mark on the listener and ensures that, despite the near-flawlessly packaged pop on offer for the bulk of the release, SHINee are just as competent when it comes to lyrically rawer, powerful ballads.

In conclusion, Don’t Call Me is an exceptionally diverse record, one which brims with experienced flavour and unabating quality, but also one which, when desired, offers affecting flourishes of plaintive emotion. It ensures nothing feels stale, but also means that the audience is permanently on their toes, wholly engrossed by the unpredictable nature of the nine tracks. For that reason, Don’t Call Me has to go down as one of the finer K-Pop albums of recent times, and one which will almost undeniably age with the same tact and quality it has now.

Album Rating: 10/10