X's

On their third album, Cigarettes After Sex do not reinvent their sound so much as deepen it. X’s is less a departure than a quiet descent, an album that lingers in the same nocturnal space they have long occupied, but with a sharper emotional edge.

Recorded between August 2020 and February 2022 in Los Angeles, the record leans fully into the band’s slow-burning aesthetic. These are, by design, “slow-dance pop ballads” that echo the softness of 1970s and 1980s romance, filtered through ambient pop and shoegaze textures. The result is something immersive, almost weightless, where mood takes precedence over momentum.

At the centre is Greg Gonzalez, whose writing here feels more exposed than before. Framed by the fallout of a long-term relationship, the album trades in intimacy and reflection rather than abstraction. ‘Tejano Blue’ stands out early, blending personal memory with a subtle pull from his El Paso roots, while ‘Dark Vacay’ captures the quiet disintegration of love against the backdrop of travel and distance. These are not grand gestures, but fragments. Moments suspended in time.

Musically, X’s rarely strays from its chosen palette. Guitars shimmer, vocals drift, and rhythms move at an almost glacial pace. For some, that uniformity will feel limiting. The Line of Best Fit suggested these songs could sit comfortably alongside the band’s earlier work, and it is difficult to argue otherwise. Yet within that consistency lies the album’s appeal. It is cohesive to the point of hypnosis.

There are subtle variations. ‘Hideaway’ offers a fleeting sense of escape, rooted in a specific memory, while ‘Baby Blue Movie’ introduces a more provocative edge in concept, even if sonically it remains within familiar territory. The closing ‘Ambien Slide’, with its Tejano influence, gently shifts the mood without breaking the spell.

Critically, the response has been warm if measured. With a Metacritic score of 69 and an AnyDecentMusic? average of 6.6, X’s sits comfortably in the realm of quiet success. Praise has centred on its atmosphere and emotional weight, even as some note its lack of dynamism.

That tension defines the album. X’s is not built for immediacy or variety. It is an album for late nights, for stillness, for repetition. In leaning so heavily into its own identity, Cigarettes After Sex risk monotony, but more often than not, they find something closer to devotion.