On each Amen Dunes album, Damon McMahon's music grows to encompass the ideas he needs to express. Freedom's inspired union of classic rock grandeur, electronic sheen, and deeply personal lyrics showed just how encompassing his music could be, but on Death Jokes, he zooms out farther. Rather than grappling with his own complicated relationships with family dynamics and toxic masculinity as he did on Freedom, he goes straight to the root cause: American culture's dangerous -- and paradoxically polarizing -- need to conform. To express this societal sickness to its fullest, McMahon challenged himself, studying piano and teaching himself Ableton. He also challenges his listeners. Where Freedom culminated the streamlining of Amen Dunes' music that began with Through Donkey Jaw, Death Jokes evokes the foreboding density of DIA with startling, sometimes suffocating, layers of samples and beats. Protest chants, a recording of the oldest written song, and excerpts of Coil and Type O Negative can be heard on the album's constantly morphing nine-minute epic "Round the World," which also finds common ground between the melody of "There's a Hole in the Bucket" and the artistic philosophy of French composer/conductor/teacher Nadia Boulanger (who taught McMahon's own piano teacher): "...When you compose, I prefer you to be mistaken, if you must, but to remain natural and free, rather than wishing to appear other than what you really are." These tumultuous sounds add a jolting spontaneity to McMahon's songs, but they're also carefully chosen allusions. Death Jokes' brash title track kicks off the album with a collage of routines by Lenny Bruce and Richard Pryor, touching on how we use humor to shrink existential dread down to size and the obligation artists have to confront society's ugly truths. There are also snippets of an interview with J Dilla, whose influence is felt on the intricate yet elated sonic patchworks of "Joyride" and "Boys." On songs such as "I Don't Mind," the contrast between Death Jokes' fractured digital mosaics and McMahon's seemingly ageless voice and melodies rings particularly true to music's role to reflect and critique what's going on in the world. His keening, weathered vibrato would be the perfect conduit for mythic songs about loss, injustice, and resilience in any era -- "What I Want" falls somewhere between a lullaby and a murder ballad -- but if any artist is capable of uncovering eternal truths from the turbulent 2020s, it's him, and "Exodus"' call to action, "Mary Anne"'s mercy, and "Purple Land"'s musings on how the years pass feel authentically timely and timeless. McMahon's honesty extends to describing the album's samples and field recordings as thought-provoking "irritants." They're occasionally distracting, and it's tempting to want these songs to have the space to breathe. Nevertheless, McMahon always takes his music wherever it needs to go, and Death Jokes is the bracing sound of Amen Dunes actively engaging with the world and its problems. ~ Heather Phares