Neon Trees - I Can Feel You Forgetting Me (LP) - White Vinyl

Neon Trees took their time between albums, and the pause suits them. I Can Feel You Forgetting Me arrived on 24 July 2020 as the band’s fourth full‑length, six years after Pop Psychology, and it feels like a reset that still sounds immediately like them. Tyler Glenn’s voice is front and centre, bright and a little pleading, with Chris Allen’s gleaming guitar lines, Branden Campbell’s rubbery bass and Elaine Bradley’s tidy, punchy drumming all clicking into place around it. The singles “Used to Like” and “New Best Friend” reintroduced them in the months leading up, a reminder that this group still has a knack for hooks that don’t quit.

What lands first is the sheen. Neon Trees have always worked at the intersection of pop, new wave and radio rock, and this record leans into a neon, late‑night palette that flatters Glenn’s melodies. “Used to Like” coils around a rhythm that feels built for the car stereo, equal parts snap and sway, while “New Best Friend” bounces harder, the kind of fizzy tune that makes you miss sticky floors and strobe lights. There’s polish everywhere, yet the songs leave enough room for the band to breathe, so the choruses hit without feeling crowded.

The writing digs into limbo and self‑reckoning, that odd space after a relationship where everything feels familiar but off. Glenn has spoken about wading through long nights and coming out clearer on the other side, and you can hear it in the way these songs balance rush with restraint. A track like “Nights” turns the city into a backdrop for memory, all pulse and glow, and it’s one of the album’s strongest mood pieces. The band keeps the arrangements lean. Bradley locks in with Campbell and pushes the verses forward, Allen colours the edges with clean, chiming lines, and Glenn rides the pocket without oversinging. It is economical and effective.

Released in the middle of 2020, the album hit during a strange stretch when dance floors were closed and headphones took over. That timing gives the record a bit of poignancy. These songs move, but they also hold up on a solo walk. The choruses are built for big rooms, yet the lyrics invite a close listen, with the kind of self‑talk many of us were doing then. Even at its glossiest, the record doesn’t feel empty. There is tension and a touch of melancholy under the shine, which makes the sugar stick.

Longtime fans will hear threads back to Habits and Picture Show. The band still deals in dopamine and daylight, but the colours have shifted slightly, less primary and more twilight. The pacing helps. It’s a tight set with no bloat, ten tracks that know when to get in and out. That discipline keeps the album replayable. There’s always another hook to catch on the next spin, a synth line you missed, or a harmony tucked behind the main melody.

For those who live with records rather than playlists, this album is a tidy fit on the shelf. The low‑end is warm, the drums are crisp, and the synths have a glassy sparkle that suits a turntable. If you’re hunting for I Can Feel You Forgetting Me vinyl, it’s worth the chase, and it sits nicely next to earlier Neon Trees albums on vinyl for a front‑to‑back weekend. I found myself thinking about this while flipping through bins at a Melbourne record store, the kind of place where you swap quick reviews with strangers and argue over which side plays better on a rainy arvo. If you buy Neon Trees records online in Australia, keep an eye on local shops that ship fast. It’s the sweet spot for fans chasing hard‑to‑find titles and building a stack of vinyl records Australia can be proud of spinning.

I Can Feel You Forgetting Me doesn’t try to reinvent Neon Trees, it refines them. The band trims the fat, trusts its strengths and lets the songs carry the weight. There’s a grown‑in feel to the writing, a steadiness that underlines the sugar rush rather than dimming it. It’s a comeback that doesn’t make a scene, just walks in with confidence, flicks the lights to that perfect blue and invites you to stay a while. If you’ve ever fallen for their big choruses and bright guitar lines, this one sticks around, the kind of record that reminds you why Neon Trees vinyl gets regular spins long after the first rush wears off.