Big Thief’s U.F.O.F. is a record that feels less like it was written and more like it was found. The band’s third studio album, released in 2019, trades the ragged intimacy of their earlier work for something hushed, strange, and almost weightless. It is a leap, but a quiet one — the kind of jump that happens in a dream, where the ground simply stops being there and you keep moving anyway.
The album’s title sets the tone. These are songs about the unseen, the barely perceptible, the things that hover at the edge of knowing. The lyrics are poetic in the truest sense: they bend language toward feeling rather than statement. The music follows suit, with the band at their most delicate. The sound is soft and layered, with the voice floating above it all, fragile and certain at once.
Opening With Contact and UFOF
The record begins with “Contact,” a track that establishes the album’s central tension. It opens with a clean, almost pastoral guitar line before slowly unraveling into something stranger. The song never resolves; it just drifts, like a signal that keeps changing frequency.
“UFOF,” the title track, follows with a gentle, lullaby-like melody. It is the album’s thesis statement. The voice is close, almost in your ear, as the lyrics circle a presence that cannot be named. The production is sparse — acoustic guitar, soft percussion, a bassline that pulses like a heartbeat. It is gorgeous and unnerving in equal measure. The song doesn’t explain its mystery; it simply asks you to sit inside it.
Cattails Through Strange
“Cattails” is where the album first opens up. It is a nature song in the truest sense, observing the world with a child’s wonder. The track builds slowly, adding layers until it feels like a field growing around you. It is one of the album’s most accessible moments, and one of its best.
“From” is shorter and more enigmatic. It feels like a sketch, a fragment of a larger thought. The song stays elusive, refusing to commit to a single meaning. It works as a palate cleanser, a moment of stillness before the next movement.
“Open Desert” shifts the mood. It is the album’s most restless track, with a drum pattern that feels almost mechanical against the organic instrumentation. The vocal is more urgent here, and the lyrics touch on isolation and longing. It is a reminder that Big Thief can do more than whisper. The song’s final minute, with its layered guitars and fading vocals, is a highlight.
“Orange” is a love song, though not a simple one. The lyrics are full of small, specific details — the kind that make a relationship feel real. The melody is warm, almost folk-rock in its simplicity. It is a moment of clarity in an album that often prefers ambiguity.
“Century” is darker. The song’s title suggests time and endurance, but its mood is heavy. The production is murkier here, with reverb-heavy guitars and a bassline that trudges rather than moves. It is not an easy listen, but it is a rewarding one.
“Strange” closes the middle stretch with a return to the album’s core themes. It is a song about the unfamiliar, the uncanny, the things that feel wrong even when they are right. The track builds to a gentle climax before fading into silence. It is a quiet masterpiece.
Betsy and Jenni
“Betsy” is one of the album’s most direct songs. It has a clear narrative, a story about a woman and the people who love her. The music is brighter here, with a country-tinged guitar line that feels almost cheerful. It is a welcome contrast to the album’s more abstract moments.
“Jenni” is more opaque. It is a character study, but the character remains elusive. The song’s melody is circular, almost hypnotic, and the lyrics are full of images that resist easy interpretation. It is a track that rewards repeated listens, revealing new details each time.
Terminal Paradise and Magic Dealer
“Terminal Paradise” is the album’s emotional peak. It is a song about loss, about the places we go when we can no longer stay. The voice is barely above a whisper, and the instrumentation is sparse — just guitar, bass, and the faintest percussion. The song builds slowly, adding layers until it feels like a wave about to break. Then it stops, leaving the listener suspended in the silence. It is devastating, and it is beautiful.
The album closes with “Magic Dealer,” a song that feels like an epilogue. It is quiet, almost to the point of disappearing. The lyrics touch on transformation and release, and the music follows suit, slowly dissolving into ambient noise. It is a fitting end to a record that has spent its entire runtime exploring the space between what is real and what is imagined.
Why the Record Works
The production captures the band at their most intimate. The recordings feel live, almost improvisational, with the musicians breathing together in the same room. There is a warmth to the sound that makes the album feel like a secret being shared.
The performances are uniformly excellent. The guitar work is subtle but essential, weaving around the central playing to create textures that are both delicate and complex. The drumming is restrained, often no more than a brush of cymbals or a soft thump. The bass holds everything together with lines that are simple but deeply felt. And the voice is the center of it all — an instrument of remarkable range, capable of both fragility and strength.
The Verdict
U.F.O.F. is a career highlight for Big Thief, and one of the best albums of 2019. It is a record that rewards patience, revealing its depths slowly over multiple listens. The songs are not immediate, but they are lasting. They linger in the mind long after the album has ended.
The critical response was strong, and rightly so. The album scored 87 on Metacritic. But numbers only tell part of the story. What matters is the feeling the record leaves behind — a sense of having touched something just out of reach.
There are moments of weakness. “From” feels underdeveloped, and “Century” can be difficult to enter. But these are minor complaints against an album that is so consistently ambitious.
The album’s highlights are worth listing in order of impact:
- “Terminal Paradise” — the emotional peak
- “Cattails” — the most accessible entry point
- “Jenni” — the most rewarding on repeat listens
- “Betsy” — the clearest narrative
- “Orange” — the warmest moment
- “Century” — the darkest and most difficult
Several qualities stand out on repeated listening:
- A hushed, dreamlike atmosphere that pervades the whole record
- Poetic, vulnerable songwriting throughout
- Subtle, otherworldly production choices
- Organic shifts in presentation that never feel forced
- A mystical grip that holds the listener from start to finish
U.F.O.F. is not an easy album. It is slow to coalesce. But when it does, it flies.
This is a record that asks you to listen closely, to let go of your expectations, and to trust the mystery. It is a rare thing — an album that feels genuinely otherworldly.
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- Contact3:54
- UFOF3:08
- Cattails4:06
- From3:58
- Open Desert3:48
- Orange3:30
- Century3:07
- Strange3:41
- Betsy3:28
- Terminal Paradise3:25
- Jenni4:12
- Magic Dealer3:02
