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**Walk The Moon - Talking Is Hard**
★★★★☆

The indie pop quartet from Cincinnati may have hit their commercial peak with 2014's "Talking Is Hard," but like so many bands who taste mainstream success, Walk The Moon eventually discovered that staying on top of the pop mountain is harder than climbing it. After years of diminishing returns and lineup changes, the band that once had the entire world doing the "Shut Up and Dance" shuffle has largely retreated from the spotlight, leaving this album as their defining statement—a bittersweet monument to what happens when underground darlings successfully crack the mainstream code.

But let's rewind to when everything was electric and possibility seemed infinite. "Talking Is Hard" arrived as Walk The Moon's major label debut, a glossy, synth-drenched love letter to '80s new wave that somehow managed to sound both nostalgic and urgently contemporary. The album's sonic palette draws heavily from the Talking Heads playbook (the influence is right there in the title), while channeling the anthemic sweep of bands like The Killers and Foster The People. It's unapologetically maximalist pop music, built for festival stages and car stereos cranked to eleven.

The album's crown jewel, "Shut Up and Dance," became the kind of ubiquitous hit that defines a moment in pop culture. With its irresistible synth hook, driving four-on-the-floor beat, and Nicholas Petricca's breathless vocals recounting a meet-cute on the dance floor, the song captured lightning in a bottle. It's the rare radio smash that doesn't feel cynically calculated—there's genuine joy bubbling through every synthesizer stab and handclap. The track spent weeks camping out in the top 10, eventually going multi-platinum and becoming Walk The Moon's calling card.

"Different Colors" serves as the album's emotional centerpiece, trading dance floor euphoria for something more contemplative. It's a surprisingly mature meditation on unity and acceptance, with Petricca's falsetto floating over shimmering guitars and subtle electronic textures. The song showcases the band's range beyond pure party-starting anthems, proving they could craft something meaningful without sacrificing their pop sensibilities.

The opening track "Work This Body" announces the album's intentions with pounding drums and urgent vocals, while "Portugal" offers a more introspective moment that recalls early Vampire Weekend in its literary pretensions and jangly guitar work. "Up 2 U" and "Avalanche" maintain the high-energy momentum, built around massive choruses designed for crowd participation. Even the deeper cuts feel purposeful rather than filler, suggesting a band that understood the importance of crafting a complete album experience in an increasingly singles-driven landscape.

What made "Talking Is Hard" work so well was Walk The Moon's commitment to their vision. In an era when indie bands often seemed embarrassed by their pop instincts, these four Ohioans embraced the artifice and spectacle of '80s synth-pop without a trace of irony. Petricca's theatrical vocals, often pushed to their upper register, perfectly complement the band's neon-soaked aesthetic. The production, handled by Tim Pagnotta, strikes the right balance between polish and grit, ensuring the songs sound massive without losing their human touch.

The album emerged from a period of intense creativity and determination for the band. After grinding it out in the indie trenches with their self-titled debut, Walk The Moon found themselves with major label backing and the pressure to deliver something that could translate their kinetic live show to recorded form. They decamped to various studios, working with a clear vision of creating their own version of classic new wave, filtered through a contemporary lens.

Today, "Talking Is Hard" stands as both Walk The Moon's commercial peak and artistic statement. While subsequent albums failed to recapture this lightning-in-a-bottle moment, this record remains a testament to the power of unabashed pop ambition. In an increasingly fragmented musical landscape, it's refreshing to revisit an album that swung for the fences and connected, creating songs that brought people together on dance floors across the world. "Shut Up and Dance" alone ensures this album's place in the 2010s pop canon, but the surrounding tracks prove it was more than just a one-hit wonder—it was a band firing on all cylinders, creating the kind of joyful noise the world desperately needed.