Where the Chainsmokers' own brand of sparse electro-pop stands in relation to Blake's is, to say the least, in the eye of the beholder—but it's inarguable that the duo's career leading up to their first full-length, Memories...Do Not Open, has seen them slowly peeling back layers from the bold, colourful, build-and-release template that so much of EDM has adhered to in the past. 2014's breakout "#Selfie" was a crass and brash slice of Electric Daisy fare; last year's "Don't Let Me Down" still featured a plethora of airhorns and synth squeals tailor-made for the Gobi Tent, but it was anchored around a flickering light of a guitar lick that more resembled LITE FM radio juggernauts like the Fray and Charlie Puth than it did presumptive contemporaries like Martin Garrix and Calvin Harris. You've absolutely heard its deathless, Halsey-featuring follow-up "Closer," which was the Chainsmokers' first number one single as well as a moment of aesthetic crystallisation, its purposefully anti-climactic hook nonetheless becoming massive in its own way.

And it follows that an anti-climactic fog hangs over much of Memories...Do Not Open. If you've heard a Chainsmokers song—which is to say, if you've listened to the radio at least once in the last 12 months—you know what to expect here: twelve songs that pair faux-navel-gazing lyrics with music that capably walks the line between festival-ready EDM and beige-hued pop-rock. A lot of the songs sound very similar to one another; objectively, a few of them come close to earning a critical designation of being "good." Most, if not all, of Memories...Do Not Open is inherently catchy in the sense that you will end up hearing the vast majority of it ad nauseam over the airwaves for the next year and a half—and a good number of those songs, whether you like it or not, will get stuck in your head. You can fight it off like a plague or embrace it with open arms, but The Chainsmokers' ability to make music that is easily loved by the masses is at the core of what they do.