Animal Collective- Centipede Hz

There are so many factors going on with Centipede Hz that I could have spent the months since its release hitting one topic at a time and still not be out of talking points. It's an album that's worthy of an exhaustive, in-depth examination at some point, but this is not that time. I still don't have a complete grasp on everything about this album, and the mixed reviews it received from others only underscores my uncertainty. For instance, all and/or any of the following statements have felt true to me at one time or another:

1. Centipede Hz is neither a misunderstood masterpiece, nor is it an unmitigated disaster,
2. It has the most unique production style, songwriting, and overall structure of any Animal Collective album,
3. It has the most accurate cover art of any album in recent memory, because it sounds like it looks: a druggy, borderline-amateurish mess with way too many layers,
4. Centipede Hz is overlong, overproduced, and overwritten,
5. Some of these songs are almost as good as the band's past high water marks,
6. Most of these songs are muddled and forgettable

Centipede Hz frustrates me the most because it doesn't neatly fit into the usual slots. It's not great, it's not shit, and yet it's also not average or middling. It's a mess, and I don't mean that in a positive or negative way. It just is a mess. Perhaps the best explanation is that Centipede Hz feels like if a band made polished studio versions of formless demos without allowing themselves any editing or re-writing. In terms of overall sound, you can tell they spent a lot of time and effort making this record, but in terms of overall feel, it comes off like something thrown together over the course of a long weekend with too many drugs and not enough sleep. And then, in the end, they kind of gave up and put out whatever they had done without listening to it while sober and well-rested. For example, 'Wide Eyed', sung (badly) by guitarist Deakin, is like a joke of what someone imagines Merriweather Post Pavilion sounds like; clearer heads and more honest egos would have snipped it from the tracklisting. Yet the production details and transitions into and out of it from its neighboring songs are part of what makes Centipede Hz such an interesting record, and so in a sense it's one of the essential pieces of the Centipede mess.

Much has been made of the fact that this is Animal Collective returning to their experimental roots. On the surface that is true but it's also a lazy, ill-fitting conceit to explain what this record sounds like. After all, it's not the sound the band uses but what they shape that sound into that matters--adding some feedback to Loaded wouldn't make it White Light/White Heat. To put it another way, Feels and Strawberry Jam can be just as abrasive and “experimental” as their first few records, but the accessible framework that supports those sounds/textures makes the songs enjoyable. Centipede Hz tries to have it both ways and fails miserably. An experimental take on their modern sound without the noise and unexpected elements is boring, while enjoyable melodies without compelling, addictive songwriting is even more boring. Even the best tracks, 'Pulleys' and 'Today's Supernatural', sound like they're trying to cram all the sonic details and detritus of Strawberry Jam into four or five minutes and they're almost ruined as a result. Performed live, with layers stripped away, they could be classics.

So I have to ask: is Centipede Hz a live album trying to be a studio album? After all, the simplified hooks and melodies, planted inside a swampy electro-psychedelic production that does them only some favors, seem more fit for energetic performance and sing-a-longs than concentrated headphone listening. All of the songs run together and kind of sound the same, something Animal Collective have always purposefully done in concerts to make the transitions between old songs and newer material less jarring. As such, Centipede Hz is worth a listen just for how very dense the layers are, how the whole album's production gives it a unified flow, and how the songs play off each other. This focus on atmosphere, flow, and production reveals the band as being at a crossroads in their evolution. Having progressed as far as they could as songwriters and emotive vocalists, they're returning to the world of ideas and textures that they sprang from. The issue is that Centipede Hz didn't end up sounding very good when the ideas went from paper to product...which just goes to show you that while you can focus on ideas and textures, you can't use those tricks to make up for weak, half-finished songwriting.

After accusing them of that, it may seem strange to say that the songs of Centipede Hz are, if anything, overwritten. Wait, how can they be both half-finished and overwritten? Well, this comes down to one of the chief flaws of the record: the vocals. Not only have the band taken significant steps backward as songwriters, their vocals have suffered, too. Avey Tare still hasn't shaken the bummer vibes of his Down There album, and Panda Bear seems barely invested in the proceedings at all because (pick your favorite theory):

1. He used all his good ideas on Tomboy,

1. He forgot he was more than the drummer,

1. He was diagnosed with chronic fatigue syndrome during the recording sessions. 

This is all compounded by the fact that there are constant vocals going on during every song. When there are breaks, as on 'Monkey Riches' or during the transitions between songs, all it does is remind you of similar, much better moments from the past. Anyway, adding in one or two 'breathing room' instrumentals would make a huge difference because Centipede Hz comes off as the album version of that friend you have who dominates every conversation. You know the one: he or she has so many ideas and thoughts that they can't say things fast enough, and they don't give you a chance to respond or process. But I digress.

Radiohead's King Of Limbs continually comes to mind when thinking about, but not listening to, Centipede Hz. It, too, is a confusing, half-finished-sounding record from a band with an otherwise excellent winning streak. It, too, is going to be that album in the band's discography that is talked about much more than listened to, by turns savaged and shrugged off by critics and fans alike. As with Limbs, Centipede Hz (regardless of its band's pedigree) is interesting enough to prevent an outright dismissal.

But just barely.

Centipede Hz Album Cover

Can we all please please please agree that this is the worst album cover in recent memory? I mean look at this shit. It looks like an acid trip as illustrated by an 8th grade computer graphics class in 1990. It raises more questions the more I look at and/or think about it. Questions I'll now pose and sarcastically answer.

Q: Was that font taken from an early Super NES game? Possibly one developed in America and made to look like what the people of 1991 thought 2011 would be like?
A: Yes.

Q: Could this be an elaborate hoax meant to scare off new fairweather Merriweather fans?
A: Nope, it's been too long and no new cover art to replace the hoax.

Q: If a thousand elephants were taught how to paint and also given conditioning so that they had anxiety attacks whenever they heard any kind of electronic sound, would one of them eventually paint something resembling this cover?
A: I think we both know the answer to that.

Q: Is the childish, borderline willfully-bad, and inept design of this cover indicative of how little of a fuck the band must give about their image or being considered serious artists?
A: Most likely, but I still might like the album, so I could be wrong.

Q: Based on the 'Honeycomb'/'Gotham' single from earlier this Summer, do you think they might have lost it, or do they still have it?
A: I'll answer that when I figure out if these two songs are god awful attempts to sound experimental or the next interesting step from a band reconciling their newfound status as indie leaders with their weirder, wilder, more druggy, and obscure past. Right now I'm leaning toward the latter.

Q: Follow-up question: are you on drugs right now?
A: No further questions, please.

All fooling around aside, I'm excited about Centipede Hz though its cover is ugly.

Random Thing: Time Lapse Animal Collective Studio Video

http://pitchfork.com/news/45080-watch-a-time-lapse-video-of-animal-collective-making-strawberry-jam/

Welcome to a new series I'm starting this year for Whiskey Pie, Random Thing. It's an easy and lazy name, I admit, but it's the only one that seems to apply. Basically, there are times when I want to write about something for this blog and it doesn't seem to fit into any of my other series, so...here we are. Random Thing is going to be just that: random things that spark my interest that I want to write about. They'll still usually be music related. Usually.

The video linked above is...well, you can go read the Pitchfork news story for that. I'll wait.


OK, back with me?

I think any hardcore, nerdy music fan eventually becomes fascinated with recording studios, specifically, recording sessions that take place in them. Yet "the studio" as a kind of myth is key to a lot of music nerd-ery, from people writing entire books about recording sessions for famous albums to people buying equipment off of eBay because it was supposedly used by such-and-such band on such-and-such song or record.

It's strange, then, that I've never been all that interested in studio stories. I don't really know what I thought Animal Collective looked like when they recorded because it never occurred to me to wonder about such a thing. Certainly I read up on albums and I enjoy studio stories but they aren't something I actively seek out or fantasize about.

All the same, this video is oddly fascinating to me, mostly because it's kind of shown me that it's somewhat useful to seek out those stories. I never would've thought Animal Collective recorded a lot by playing live in the same room, since their music sounds so precise and exact that I thought it must've been sculpted a sound at a time by one member at a time. This casts new light on Strawberry Jam and makes me reconsider it as a piece of music yet again. This video also helps explain why Animal Collective are such a great live band because recording this record must've been as long and grueling as the practice sessions normal bands go through before heading out on tour.

Weekly Whiskey Episode 11 (For Realz)

Well, it finally worked. Hope it was worth all the trouble! I have just had one of the worst 24 hour periods of my life, as if the universe wants to make surviving til my vacation as difficult and painful as possible. Such is life.

Weekly Whiskey Episode 3

Episode 3! We've almost made it a month straight! Technically I had this uploaded last night but didn't have time to post it here til I got home from work. So.

Panda Bear- Tomboy

Panda Bear's Person Pitch wasn't just another album. It has that intangible special-ness that separates the great albums from the masterpieces, albums that not only make year end lists and 'best of decade' lists, but also—and perhaps most crucially—personal lists of favorite albums by both fans and critics.Panda Bear's much anticipated new album, Tomboy, will likely make many lists for best of 2011 even though I don't think it will be as beloved and embraced as Pitch was. I will still be thinking about, listening to, and recommending Person Pitch for decades to come; Tomboy, perhaps not as much.

Whereas Pitch felt like something special, one of those once in a lifetime records that will go down in history, Tomboy is, let's say, more of a 'normal' album. It's excellent music yet it lacks that utterly unique sound and special-ness that made Pitch such an immediate and lasting delight. First things first, though:Tomboy is not a sequel to Person Pitch. Secondly, you can rest assured that, even though all but one of the tracks he's released on 7” singles leading up toTomboy's release appear on it, too, they have different enough mixing, sonic elements either brought to the fore or pushed to the background, that you won't feel fleeced. They're the same songs following the same structure, true, but 'Surfer's Hymn', for instance, is much improved on the album, sounding less electronic and claustrophobic, the extra set of buried vocals excised entirely.

Lastly, Tomboy follows in the pattern of fellow Animal Collective member Avey Tare's 2010 solo release, Down There, in that it's a surprisingly dark record. Whereas Down There was going for a “hellish swamp” vibe according to Tare, following his divorce as it did, Tomboy feels more insular and inner-troubled. During the record's latter half, I get a mental image of Panda Bear sitting alone in a basement studio with no windows, particularly during 'Scheherezade' and its looming, cinematic piano chords. Hell, the extreme reverb he uses on his voice during this track makes it sound like he's stuck inside a well.

Or hiding in a cave. It seems the man who once admonished listeners that he didn't want us to take pills anymore may still be struggling with unnamed internal issues. In fact, the general theme of Tomboy seems to be about pulling back and focusing on yourself and the ones you love. Ironically, then,Tomboy is more listener friendly and inviting than Person Pitch. The melodies and hooks come frequently and in intriguing ways on the album's first half, including one of his most impressive vocals ever on the soaring 'Last Night At The Jetty.' As said before, this album is also more 'normal' than Person Pitchwhich further adds to the listener-friendly-ness, by which I mean, the songs are shorter and self-contained. Nothing here is as slow burn-y and trance inducing as Pitch centerpieces 'Bros' and 'Good Girl/Carrots', and nothing is as unique and indescribable as 'I'm Not' or 'Comfy In Nautica.' Yet for all the talk ofTomboy being a more guitar oriented album, this descriptor proved as accurate as Radiohead's claim that Amnesiac would be more of a guitar album than Kid A. It was, to a degree, but very little on this record sounds much like guitars as used by most rock bands, even by Radiohead in fact, other than the one on the title track. Rather the guitar is employed as another textural tool in Panda Bear's arsenal and ends up making the music sound more mechanical—that is to say, programmed and sampled and looped and tinkered with via computers—than the organic sounding Person Pitch.

With this in mind, the best touchstone for Tomboy is the stuff Bradford Cox of Deerhunter has been doing as Atlas Sound, that kind of “solo artist but using lots of guitar pedals and electronics to fill out his sound” sort of thing. Indeed, Panda Bear guested on the last Atlas Sound album, and if you took the vocals away, I could see Atlas Sound producing something like 'Alsatian Darn.' Still, only Panda Bear could pull off these vocals, and only he would have the guts to follow a buoyant pop song like 'Last Night At The Jetty' with what is ostensibly the album's most dissonant track, the aptly named 'Drone', which I recall being more abrasive on the 7” single version. Anyway, if Panda Bear wanted to shake the notion that he's the 'pop' member of Animal Collective while Avey Tare is the 'noise/experimental' guy, I guess he should've made an album more like Down There.

Or even Danse Manatee.

Not that I think he really cares about such a perception, since he's clearly too busy recording, touring, spending time with his family, and/or doing drugs to have time to worry about such things. What's more, whatever darkness crept into Tomboy isn't likely to last. Though not as special as Person Pitch, this record is a must-hear; though not as bright as Person Pitch, this record still ends with the impression of having come through darkness rather than leaving us still stuck in it. The final redemptive washes of 'Benfica' fade away like the pervasive crashing-waves sounds heard throughout the album, and Panda Bear gets up to leave his basement studio, ready to start the long wait til his next batch of music begins to form. What am I most looking forward to from him next? A new Jane album, obviously.

5 Poorly Drawn Stars Out Of 5

Weekly Whiskey Episode 2

Episode 2! As stated in the video, look for the written review of Tomboy soon.

Panda Bear- Tomboy & You Can Count On Me singles

It seems certain that Panda Bear's much-delayed Tomboy can only be a disappointment, especially to those who are expecting another Person Pitch. Judging by bootlegs of live shows from over the course of 2010, as well as the so-far-released singles, it's going to be a much different beast, full of darker, shorter songs based on guitars and electronics as the main instruments instead of samplers. As a huge fan of Person Pitch, it's hard for me to listen to Panda Bear's newer music and not wish for more versions of 'Take Pills' and 'Good Girl/Carrots.' But since he has continually pushed back the release of Tomboy—in fact, he's not done recording/mixing it yet—I've had more and more time to accept the new direction.

The Tomboy single was the first officially released taste of the album, and neither it nor its b-side, 'Slow Motion', seem like obvious songs for the purpose of introducing the album. However, listening more closely to 'Tomboy' reveals what Panda Bear was getting on about when he said the album would be more guitar based, though the guitar here is employed more as a vocal foil than anything else. There's something Radiohead-esque about its sound and melodic/rhythmic use here; furthermore, the minimalist beats and indistinct background sounds also remind me of that British band's Kid A era music. Panda Bear's vocals are as rich and reverb drenched as ever but lack the Beach Boys/angelic choir effects he used on all of Person Pitch. Aforementioned b-side 'Slow Motion', meanwhile, sticks a little closer to the Person Pitch sound, with a looping beat, repeated sound effects/speech samples, and Panda Bear's honeyed vocals. A good start, all told, but hardly a home run.

Second single You Can Count On Me reveals a much more abstract style. With heavy, vocally emphasized beats and a droning sound, Panda Bear often used this song as a set closer during his 2010 performances. There's something definitive and confident sounding about it. Despite its paucity of sonic elements, it sounds anthemic and full. Unfortunately, he's retreated from the more comprehensible vocal delivery of Animal Collective's last couple releases, so the lyrics are hard to discern. The same goes for 'Alsatian Darn', whose title I'm convinced is a reference to a Tom Goes To The Mayor episode wherein Tom says “darn” instead of “dam.” Anyway, there's a reason this song will (I assume) be relegated to b-side status and won't be included on the album: it's uninspired and half-finished feeling. Lacking a satisfying hook and with an out-of-character amount of lyrics that don't register, it plods along for almost exactly twice as long as 'You Can Count On Me' but is nowhere near as good.

The next single, Last Night At The Jetty, is due to be released digitally in a few days. I can only hope that it restores some of my faith in Panda Bear as a solo artist. Don't mistake what I mean there; I don't think either Tomboy or You Can Count On Me are bad singles. It's more that they're underwhelming, and when combined with the less-then-stellar Down There by Avey Tare, represent a cooling trend on my enthusiasm for the up-til-now impeccable stable of Animal Collective and related side/solo project releases. More importantly, the Tomboy album is now my biggest question mark for 2011: will it still turn out to be great, or will it be one of the biggest disappointments of the year? For now, know that the singles are worth checking out, though I sure wouldn't break the bank for the limited edition vinyl releases.

4 Poorly Drawn Stars Out Of 5 (Combined score)

Avey Tare- Down There

You've got to feel a bit sorry for Avey Tare. Over the past few years of Animal Collective's rise to (relative) popularity and critical acclaim, much of the focus has been on bandmate Panda Bear. Though he only really started to write songs and sing lead on Strawberry Jam, Panda Bear's name-making solo album,Person Pitch, and sublime contributions to Merriweather Post Pavillion have ensured that most critics, fans, and interview-happy journalists are focused on him. Worse, Avey Tare (real name Dave Portner) recently separated (or divorced, I'm not entirely clear on that) from his wife, Kria Brekkan, best known as a former member of Mum and, with her twin sister, cover star of Belle & Sebastian's Fold Your Hands Child... album. Thus while anticipation is reaching critical mass for Panda Bear's overdue Tomboy album, there was little fanfare when Portner announced Down There a couple months ago.

This perplexes me, since Portner was always the main songwriter for Animal Collective. Even though he's unfairly pegged as the noisy/dissonant/experimental member of the group, if you spend a few minutes with his previous sort-of-solo album, Pullhair Rubeye, or, you know, most of the tracks on Merriweather, you'll soon be reminded of his gentle and/or melodic side. Furthermore, Portner was the guy who wrote the majority of the best known, best loved Animal Collective songs, so why was almost no one, outside of dedicated fans, buzzing about another solo album from him?

Down There, as it turns out, isn't as dissonant and experimental as you may expect. It is less hook-y and song based than the last four Animal Collective albums, to be sure, and he has also retreated to using effects on his vocals and singing in a way that it makes it hard to figure out what he's saying. In fact, I would go so far as to say that this is an album that disappears into itself far more than it invites the listener in. There is a listless, airy quality to this music; in general Down There is the sort of record that seems to spend as much time in near-silence or statically hanging in vocal-less electronic ambience as it does treating you to concrete songs, albeit ones with slow feed melodies and hooks. While I do think this heavily electronic and atmospheric aesthetic works for these songs, that doesn't mean the album, by extension, works. Now that I think about it, in some ways it's like the polar opposite of Panda Bear's Person Pitch, all dour and insular and barely there, instead of bright and expansive and maximalist like that masterpiece.

If Down There sounds like anything from the Animal Collective discography, it picks up where the slower, bummed out tracks from Merriweather and the Fall Be Kind EP left off. A better comparison may be that it's the break-up album, other-side-of-the-coin to the love song filled Feels. 'Cemeteries' in particular seems like the evil twin of slow motion psychedelic Feels dreams like 'Daffy Duck' or 'Loch Raven.' To put it yet another way, Down There reminds me a bit of Thom Yorke's solo album, The Eraser, in the sense that you have the ostensible lead musician in a popular, beloved band delivering an underwhelming solo album that sounds as downcast and bedroom born as it probably was. Now, to be fair, I do like The Eraser, and I also like Down There. But in both cases I spent an inordinate amount of time listening, waiting to fall in love as I always had, and never finding much to get excited about. Down There is merely an interesting but partially forgettable album, lacking any of the punch or character of his best Animal Collective music.

Portner has gone on record as saying that he has no intention to tour this material, since singing these songs every night would be like returning to the dark place they came from. So this tells us that Down There is his most personal statement yet, and it also tells us that the record was a catharsis for him. I'll go ahead and add that Down There is an example of a solo album that will only appeal to longtime fans and not those drawn in by the honeyed bliss ofMerriweather. Portner does mostly stick to his less screamy vocal approach on this album, but even then, the melodies and hooks are much less apparent and memorable than on anything he's written in the last five years. Since this record sounds so much like Animal Collective, it's impossible not to compare. To that end, let's just say, even the more immediate, direct, and enjoyable songs, like 'Lucky 1'—with its knotty electronic pulse and Portner's devastating “were you crying?” repeated question—are underwhelming. Even going by other albums or its own standards, Down There is rarely above average.

Sometimes misery and unhappiness can lead to great art. Other times, though, they can lead to a normally peerless artist throwing a pity party and retreating into good-but-unremarkable art. Down There isn't so much a disappointment as it is inessential. Fans will enjoy, maybe even love, this album, but those who were drawn to Animal Collective by their recent more accessible music will find this a thin, unsatisfying listen.

3 Poorly Drawn Stars Out Of 5

ODDSAC (Animal Collective/Danny Perez)

The idea of a “visual album” isn't a new one though it remains a novelty. I'm sure the history can be traced back further, but Autechre's Gantz Graf EP is the earliest example I can think of for music and visuals being developed to complement each other. Having never seen/listened to it, though, my experience with something like a visual album is limited to Drum's Not Dead by Liars, the deluxe edition of The Information by Beck, and Beach House's recent Teen Dream; all of these came with a DVD of videos for every song. They don't precisely fit the idea of a visual album because they were created as music first and only later were visuals added. As far as I'm aware, then, ODDSAC is the most fleshed out and fully realized hybrid of music and visuals outside of art installations.

I would love to tell you that ODDSAC is a revolutionary leap that proves the validity of a new hybrid artform for a mass market, but it works only slightly more often than it doesn't. The music and visuals share a kind of mutually complementary/antagonistic see-saw: when lovely musical moments of pastoral acoustic or syrupy electronic bliss are tweaking your lobes, sudden stabs of noise and visual interruptions will eventually intrude in. Most of the segues between songs/scenes are pulled off with some finesse and have a taking-a-nap-while-stoned flow, but the more violent flailings give this visual album a quixotic, if not schizophrenic, feeling. Taken as whole, ODDSAC is either the worst set of dreams I've ever had or the best set of nightmares. Or a bit a both.

I suspect the visual aspect—presumably the one most attributable to Danny Perez, though the band no doubt helped—will not be the thing that draws most people to this project. Which is a fair expectation since it's easily the least compelling half of ODDSAC's hybrid form. Even though it's meant to be judged as a whole, I think that its visual side actually fails to be more than just a bunch of weird stuff that gives you something to look at while music plays. It only occasionally seems to relate to the music or interact with it in an effective way that makes you forget you're not just listening to an album with a DVD of videos. This, of course, is the question at the heart of most music video concepts: how much should it reflect the music, if at all? Should it supplant the music to the point where it's arguably successful even without music, or should it play second fiddle? Perhaps visualizers—from iTunes's built-in one to Milk Drop to even something like the Electric Sheep screensaver—are more of a relevant point of reference, since a good chunk of ODDSAC is spent congealing and melting through highly abstract globs, fractals, and polymorphs of color, light, and texture. In fact, it's the scenes where people are featured and some narrative is unfolding that the visuals really falter. There are some entrancing images, particularly in the use of bright colored lighting in night settings, but just as often you get what feels like ten repetitive minutes of a vampire sneaking up on a woman who's wringing the water out of the same piece of cloth over and over.

The music, then, is what most people will care about. Indeed, there are already rips of only the music floating around online. I have to wonder what their reaction will be, and I don't wonder this simply because it was meant as a visual album and not just an album. I suspect the people who have only listened to Animal Collective's last few albums will hate most of what ODDSAC has to offer, since those pastoral/syrupy sections I spoke of earlier are few and far between. It's helpful to remember what the early Animal Collective sounded like and adjust expectations accordingly. Those first few albums were experimental beasts, utilizing noise loops, thunderous drumming, and improvisational dalliances to craft music that was more about the total effect and the moments contained therein than traditional 'songs' or gripping melodies. As this visual album was four years in the making, the band would have begun working on it during the Feels/Strawberry Jam time frame, which was well into their modern song/melody focused era that began with Sung Tongs. Well, so what? So, theorists might posit that ODDSAC was the place where their wilder material went, allowing their pop chops to be honed until the honeyed peak of Merriweather Post-Pavilion. But I don't believe that for a second. The music of ODDSAC is more analogous to the modern Animal Collective's take on the older style, effectively throwing their entire discography into a pan and seeing what kind of gumbo results.

I hope it's no dig on Danny Perez or ODDSAC as a whole that I think it's better as an experimental album with visuals instead of a visual album. That's simply because the visuals aren't always great and don't always properly fit the music. The times where the visuals seem to be dictating the music is always to the detriment of the latter. The sudden stabs of noise I spoke of earlier are the worst offenders, their only purpose to startle you or rouse you from sleep, but there's also the random samples of people talking/laughing when characters pop up on screen that serve no purpose at all. It feels arbitrarily shoved in to echo the people appearing onscreen instead of the much more naturalistic way Boards Of Canada uses vocal samples. But as with other experiments in new art forms, maybe that's the point: trying to discover how this thing is going to work and work best by not sticking to the tropes of music or film. Just as trying to piece together a sensible plot to ODDSAC isn't the point, wanting the music to not be affected by what's going on in the visuals is also an incorrect desire. But no amount of doubling back over myself will change the fact that ODDSAC isn't the home run, proof of concept for the visual album art form that many have wanted it to be or many will go on to insist it is. What it is, though, is pretty damn cool, and a success at being visually and musically experimental without feeling forced or aimless. Fans who wish the band would record something like Danse Manatee or Hollinndagain would do well to track down a copy, not to mention a healthy amount of their substance of choice.

4 Poorly Drawn Stars Out Of 5

My Favorite Albums Of The 00s (Part 2) & (Part 3)

Sorry for the lateness. As you'll see in the third video, I've been having all sorts of issues with my computer and Internet lately. Anyway, they're finally done. Should have a written review up tomorrow. And yes, from now on the videos won't be lists.

Whiskey Pie's Best Of 2009 (Part 2)

(Again, read the badly spellchecked full text below for clarifications of bad sound quality and my mush mouth)

5) I'm Going Away by the Fiery Furnaces: The 2009 releases from Wilco and Yo La Tengo left me feeling pretty meh, so even bands that are normally reliable helped contribute to the general weakness of the year. That said, I ended up loving I'm Going Away by the Fiery Furnaces more than I thought I would. Since this is a release that strips away almost all of the song structure experiments and crazy instrumental workouts of the band's sound, I was initially underwhelmed by the album. But the Furnaces always had the songwriting and melodic hooks beating at the heart of their music, and by focusing on that aspect--and a live-in-the-studio production style--they ended up making one of their best albums. The Friedberger siblings recently issued the digital-only Take Me Round Again, which sees them re-making the songs from this album on their own. In the process they ended up emphasizing that, hey, these are great songs no matter what their form.

4) Beacons Of Ancestorship by Tortoise: "Fun" is not a word I associate with post-rock even if it's obvious the dudes in Mogwai, at least, have a sense of humor. But Tortoise have always given off an intellectual air of clinical studio perfectionism that brings to mind Steely Dan. Yet Beacons Of Ancestorship is the clearest example I heard all year of a band very obviously just trying to have fun with music. Because of this, Beacons may lack the cohesiveness or flow of other Tortoise albums, but it's by far the most fun to listen to and sports a variety of sounds. Call it their "much needed shot in the arm" release if you must, but I never thought I'd be so excited about a Tortoise album after 2005's sleepy, workmanlike It's All Around You.

3) Veckatimest by Grizzly Bear: Yes, I'm not entirely sure how it's pronounced either, but I feel like that was the point. Much like with Dirty Projectors, you have to come up with multi-syllabic phrases to categorize the music of Veckatimest. Indie rock folk pop chamber vocal music? Whatever, the point is, this is an amazing album with a timeless quality to it, bursting with ideas and melodies that never sound obvious or cliche.

2) Merriweather post pavillion by animal collective: Merriweather post pavilion was the best reason to start 2009 just as their recent Fall Be Kind EP is the best reason to let it end. As such, Animal collective felt like they owned the entire year, setting the bar high early for other albums to match and then closing it out in style with a great EP. Every fan seems to have their personal "dude, this is totally the best" Animal Collective album--even if it happens to be Panda Bear's solo release, Person Pitch--yet everyone seems to at least agree that Merriweather is brilliant and rivals their own personal pick. I'm a Sung Tongs man yet there are times while listening to Merriweather when I begin to question my loyalty. It's that good. On a final note, those people who complain that the best songs are at either end of the album--'My Girls' and 'Brothersport'--are neglecting 'Daily Routine' and 'Lion In A Coma', not to mention....well, hell, the whole album is great, so shut up already.

1) Dragonslayer by Sunset Rubdown: Around June of this year, it seemed obvious to me that either Animal Collective or Grizzly bear were going to take this top spot. But then--confession time--I downloaded a torrent of Dragonslayer, and within a couple days I bought every Sunset Rubdown release I could get my hands on. Spencer Krug has always been my favorite member of Wolf Parade, but his contributions to this year's Swan Lake album were sub-par. Furthermore, in retrospect I overrated At Mount zoomer even if I still like it. But I digress. Dragonslayer catapulted Krug to being among my favorite artists. The opening and closing tracks of the album are perfect mood pieces with vibrant imagery, while all the songs are intricate mini-suites that have two or more different pieces that fit internally together, and with the rest of the album as a whole. Furthermore, the subtle or overt nods to Sunset Rubdown's previous album, Random Spirit Lover, are clever and fascinating attempts at further tying together Krug's already inter-connected body of work. I actually had to take Dragonslayer off my iPod because for a long time it was all I wanted to hear. It is a joy to listen to, an album full of interesting ideas and brilliant songs within songs that I never seem to get tired of. In a year with a highly contested top spot, Sunset Rubdown managed to become my obvious and only choice.

Album Of The Week: Animal Collective- Fall Be Kind EP

It's surreal to think that it's already been nearly a near since Animal Collective released Merriweather Post Pavilion. I could just be thinking like a solipsist here, but 2009 has flown by, hasn't it? Nowhere has this felt more evident than in the music world, or anyway, the corner that I inhabit and follow. 2009 hasn't had quite as many truly excellent albums as 2008, and at the same time, everyone's already jumped the gun on their "best of the decade" lists and articles. Most of the world seems eager to finish December and be done with this decade, so leave it to the band who helped start off 2009, with what is arguably their best album, to finish it with what is arguably their best EP.

As I mentioned in my review of Deerhunter's Fluorescent Grey EP, Animal Collective are one of the few bands who think of an EP as a true venue for expression. They've always put forth the effort to offer fans something interesting and new, instead of just having a glorified single or remix depository. Their first, Prospect Hummer, was a wonderful coda to Sung Tongs with the legendary (in some circles) Vashti Bunyan in tow. People was interesting but inessential, unfortunately offering both a studio and live version of the title track. Last year's Water Curses, meanwhile, was the true proof that very few bands make EPs like Animal Collective. That release was arguably as good if not better than most of Strawberry Jam's tracks, something born out by the fact that I remember the band saying that the EP wasn't so much leftovers and B-sides as it was stuff that just didn't fit or flow well with the album.

The same could be said for Fall Be Kind. Its five tracks neither sound like retreads from Merriweather nor lesser material that was left on the cutting room floor. At a bit over 27 minutes, it's a substantial work with its own sense of flow and atmosphere. The band made some comments about how it was going to be "darker" than Merriweather, and while there is a bit more uncertainty, less obvious song structures, and more experimental textures to the EP, it's still just as poppy and frequently head nodding as the album. The first two tracks find resolution in brilliant samples: 'Graze' has euphoric pan flutes from Zamfir, while 'Why Would I Want? Sky' famously features the first legal Grateful Dead sample, from 'Unbroken Chain.' As for the rest, 'Bleed' is where most of the "darker" talk likely comes from, with its free-floating vocals and almost-sinister synthesizer sounds. The last two tracks are the kind of introspective and philosophical wonderings that the band is becoming synonymous with. 'On A Highway' is a road weary lament from Avey Tare, while the lengthy 'I Think I Can' is about needing to move on, ending with a 'The Little Engine That Could'-style repetition of the line "I think I can" in a vocal harmony that reminds you, once again, how Animal Collective can take an influence like the Beach Boys and make it their own.

In 2008, the self titled album and Sun Giant EP by Fleet Foxes formed an unstoppable duo that were collectively my favorite release of that year. I have no qualms about saying the same for Fall Be Kind. Judged by the EP format, Fall Be Kind is as brilliant, consistent, and well paced as Merriweather is judged by the album format. Forming a kind of unique symmetry, by design or otherwise, Merriweather was the best reason to move on to 2009 from 2008, while Fall Be Kind is the best reason to close the book on the year and begin reminiscing. For what it's worth, if I gave out an award for best EP of 2009, Fall Be Kind would easily win.

Album of the Week: Grizzly Bear- Veckatimest

Today was one of those weird late Spring/almost Summer days where it was gray, overcast, and extremely humid yet it never rained. Driving home with my windows down, the white cottonwood fluff was blowing around in the wind creating a surreal almost-snowstorm look to the world. Underneath all of this rides the notion that I'll be moving into my own place in about week, all those last minute details and things roiling underneath the surface. And with all of this--the odd weather, the dramatic life change--going on, all I can think about is how damned good the new Grizzly Bear album is.

With their new album, Grizzly Bear have thrown their hat into the ring for the running of "best album of the year." Yes, I've only been listening to it for two days now and I'm already saying that and 2009's music season is just warming up, too. As usual, most of the music releases I'm looking forward to seem to be in the second half of the year. True, 2009 got off to a great start with Animal Collective's Merriweather Post Pavilion, but Veckatimest feels like the true start of a gradual flood of stuff I've been looking forward to and things I don't expect but will probably astound me. Yet one must live in the moment, and in this moment, I find Veckatimest to be an astonishingly rich achievement.

Understand that I loved Yellow House but for as good as it was, Grizzly Bear have with this release issued their first unqualified masterpiece. Yellow House is an incredible, fascinating album, but you really have to be in a certain mood for it. Not so for Veckatimest, a brilliant batch of songs that requires as much patience as Yellow House but who's rewards run, arguably, much deeper. I went through a strange initial period of this album quite similar to the one I went through with the aforementioned Animal Collective album. At first I was ambivalent and mostly unimpressed; only a few songs grabbed me and the rest seemed strange, intricate beasts that were hard to nail down. Strange that with their 2009 albums, both Grizzly Bear and Animal Collective released enjoyable, less experimental albums that still, somehow, require a few listens to comprehend.

This lack of immediacy isn't a bad thing. On Veckatimest, 'Two Weeks' will likely be the initial hook that keeps you coming back; it's like a Rosetta's Stone that allows you to slowly unravel and adore the rest of the album. See, the problem people are going to have with this album is that, while it's the most 'pop' thing Grizzly Bear have done, they never seem to go for the obvious, whether it's a lazy lyric or easy song structure. Once this music winds its way into you and you've learned the twists and turns, they become delightful nuggets of discovery.

Grizzly Bear's Friend EP approximated their live sound, with that incredible reverb laden, chunky guitar sound remaking some of the songs from the band's first two albums. On Veckatimest that is fully explored alongside the familiar dreamy indie-folk/psych-folk atmospheres and melodies, as well as new orchestral tinged textures and sturdier, more emphatic drum beats. Veckatimest manages to sound of a singular whole and yet quite distinct from song to song, always offering up new ideas and unpredictable hooks, melodies, and sounds. 'Cheerleader' starts off sounding a bit like the drum part from Portishead's 'Magic Doors' before murking about in a dreamy haze that never seems to go anywhere yet offers plenty of sonic details and twists on headphone listens. 'Dory' sails in with a haunting vocal intro before carousing about with an acoustic guitar section full of imaginative lyrical imagery. The most-mentioned-song-in-this-review 'Two Weeks' offers up Grizzly Bear's take on R&B/soul, and 'All We Ask' is the sort of song that gets more impressive with each listen, the ending handclaps enhanced section punctuating an already fine tune.

The band has also damn near perfected their approach to vocals, making great use of close, Brian Wilson-esque harmonies as well as focusing on either the majestic, melancholic tones of Ed Droste or the more straightforward and nasally Daniel Rossen. As with the two main forces on Wolf Parade's At Mount Zoomer, who put in career highs with songs there, both of Grizzly Bear's singers turn in brilliant performances that belong entirely to them (the Droste masterpiece 'Two Weeks' is inarguably one of the 2009's best songs, while Rossen goes to bat much more often and always hits homers, of which 'While You Wait For The Others' is the highlight) but still unselfishly support each other. 'Hold Still' may have Rossen handling the lead vocals, but his harmonies with Droste (and the rest of the band) are, yes, beautiful.

By now you've likely heard that this album was named after an uninhabitated island near Massachusetts. That makes sense to me because there's a spooky mixture of the familiar and unfamiliar to this album, something dreamy yet not as sleepy as Yellow House was. Much as Pink Floyd famously 'played' at Pompeii, Grizzly Bear could fill Veckatimest with music, too. This is an album that engages you enough at first to keep you coming back until the full picture is revealed. The sort of album that you'll find hard to describe and recommend without resorting to generic, positive adjectives. It defies easy categorization as much as it does easy description. One of 2009's must hears.

Video: Animal Collective- 'My Girls'

Someday I really need to see these guys live. Still, this is the ideal of what their 'performance' video should be: yes, it's them playing the song/miming along to it, but they're mostly black silhouettes and...well, you'll see. This video is psychedelic and beautiful and matches the song perfectly. It's weirdly thrilling to watch people twiddle with samplers and drum machines, but I guess that's why people go to dance clubs.

p.s. You bought their new album already, right??

EDIT: Sorry, had to fix the video.

Album of the Week: Animal Collective- Merriweather Post Pavilion

How often do you really listen to an album and your opinion ends up completely changing on it?? Normally my take away of an album is generally in line with my first impression, if a bit stronger. If I don't like it on the first spin I usually end up hating it. If I like it, I usually end up loving it. But I can't think of the last time my feeling about an album made a complete turn-around. It's all the more strange because I'm a huge Animal Collective fan and since I trust their taste and ability, it seemed like a foregone conclusion that I would love Merriweather Post Pavilion. The idea of them releasing a sub par or even outright bad album is as likely as Radiohead releasing one at this point. Yet on New Year's Eve, as I was driving to Cleveland to spend the night and a few days at a friend's house, I listened to Merriweather for the first time and hated it.

Perhaps hated is too strong, but I was certainly confused by what I heard. My initial impression was utter disappointment. It seemed like the band were going against their strengths, trying to make an electronic album, stuffed with overwhelming bass and confusing walls of synthesizer, drum machines, and spaced out vocals. In retrospect a lot of this might have been due to my car's stereo system, which tends to emphasize the bottom end of music way more than necessary and leave the mid and upper range muddled. Whatever the case, it wasn't until I had listened to Merriweather Post Pavilion on my laptop with iTunes's visualizer and a few more times in my car that I got it: this album is indeed Animal Collective's electronic album, but it's also a ballsy, psychedelic, and incredibly beautiful headphone album.

I've seen a few reviews that cite this as Animal Collective's pop album, but that's not entirely true. The biggest change from albums past is that the screams and noisy elements are entirely gone. The music is every bit as experimental and weird as before, but the band are emphasizing their gift for intricate vocals, unexpected sounds, strangely addictive melodies, and that indescribable ability their music has to be both repetitive and continually changing, always engaging the listener with new ideas as well as tweaks of familiar sounds. It might sound like lazy critic shorthand to say that there's bits and pieces of almost all of their albums on this one, but it's true. If pressed to give a succinct short description, I'd say this album is like an electronic version of Sung Tongs smashed together with Panda Bear's Person Pitch but less sample heavy.

Allow me to develop that. Sung Tongs was Animal Collective's breakthrough album, a duo album done by Avey Tare and Panda Bear in the freak folk style, all droney/strum-happy acoustic guitars, Beach Boys druggy vocal harmonies, primitive/minimalist drums, and child-like wonder. Literally, since 'Sweet Road' was used in a crayon commercial. But I digress. Person Pitch, then: it was like Panda Bear's coming out party. He was always a crucial element of Animal Collective, but most of their albums belong to Avey Tare. Think of your favorite tracks from previous albums, and there's a good chance it's Avey Tare singing most of it. On Merriweather Post Pavilion Panda Bear spends just as much time on lead vocals as Avey. At the same time, the way these two intertwine and harmonize has gotten better than ever. This, too, hearkens back to Sung Tongs, which was probably the last album where they sang together so much. In fact, one of this album's most unexpected treats is 'Guys Eyes', a song I thought was the weakest until I "got" that it was all about the way their voices work together. What at first seems like a confusing jumble of overlapping vocals eventually resolves into a beautiful harmony of the chorus "what I want to."

I normally try to talk some about the music of an album instead of purely about the ideas or my own reaction to it, describing sound as best I can with words, but in this case I don't want to spoil anything for anyone. I hesitate to let my enthusiasm get the best of me--after all, I'm a professional critic, and I'm above such "emotions" harrumph harrumph--but Merriweather Post Pavilion is all about the experience of hearing these songs for yourself. Every song is a unique, singular entity but they all work together as a cohesive whole. Every time the album ends, I get a little sad. It's as if the movie is over and I have to go back to real life. Or, maybe, since the album is named after a concert venue, it's like going home after a concert...

...bah, OK, I can't resist talking about two of the songs. 'Brothersport' ends the album, and it's the strongest final song they've ever made. Yes, even better than 'Turn Into Something.' It is pure euphoria in audio form, the band's vocal chants and squiggly keyboard/sound loops trading dance moves with bumping bass blurts, skittering shakers, and drum breaks. And 'Bluish' is a syrup thick psychedelic space ballad, Avey Tare drawing galaxies in the sky while we all float around hoping we never have to come down from this high. With its unashamed love song romantics, it hints back to the 'love' album, Feels, which was pretty much all about Avey Tare's feelings for Kria Brekkan (and for what it's worth, the album they made together, Pullhair Rubeye, is awesome if an acquired taste). I really want to tell you about orgasmic peaks of 'Lion In A Coma', the relaxing 'No More Runnin', the Panda Bear showcase 'My Girls' which thematically picks up where 'Chores' from Strawberry Jam left off and...no no, bad Greg!! You said you wouldn't, after all...

One of the true measures of a great album is whether you enjoy it more over time instead of getting tired of it. Merriweather Post Pavilion gets better and better with every listen, the sounds and melodies becoming embedded in your DNA. It's far too soon to tell whether this album will become a classic, but I'm already willing to declare it the best album Animal Collective have made so far, and though we're barely into the year, it's going to end up on my 2009 'best of' list without question. The only question, really, is where Animal Collective will go from here. It's something I wondered after I heard Feels and Strawberry Jam, but for the first time I can honestly say that I don't really care where they go, because I'll follow them anywhere they want to go. Merriweather Post Pavilion isn't a career maker like Sung Tongs was, but it's the next step up: it's a legend maker; a modern day masterpiece. Let me say it as directly as possible: buy this album.

Animal Collective- Water Curses EP

The release of the next Animal Collective album is a bit over a month away as I write this, and while I look forward to it with great anticipation, the entire process of waiting for another release has me thinking about this band and why I love them so much. If you're merely the fan of a band, it suffices to say that you just like them and that's that. But if you're a critic like me, attempting to qualify your enjoyment can sometimes leave you speechless. Or word-less. Whatever. Often I become so taken with a movie, album, or videogame that I can't put into words why I like it until some time has passed. Or maybe I'm just so far down the rabbit hole that I haven't even given any thought as to the "why" of it all.

Well, let's step back and use Water Curses as a jumping off point for why I like this band. It's a neat four song EP, all unreleased songs that come from the sessions for last year's Strawberry Jam. In the same way that the People EP was like a last taste of the Feels album, I suppose. But I digress. I think a song by song breakdown is in order, and I'll use each to give a reason why I love this band:

1) Water Curses: Animal Collective releases, starting with Sung Tongs, have begun with incredibly strong opening tracks, and it's nice to see this practice carried over to an EP. This song has a bubbly feel, full of momentum and revelry. There's plenty of electronic wooshes, melodies, and snappy drum machines for the ear to enjoy; the effervescent vocals of Avey Tare and Panda Bear swoop, climb, dive, and twirl around the music, reminding me again that one of the things this band does best is push what vocals can do. Love them or hate them, the way this band uses vocals is instantly recognizable and uniquely them. Hey presto, reason one.

2) Street Flash: My initial impression of this song was that it was way too minimalist and slow for its own good. Reverbed organ chords hold the time while Avey Tare sermonizes to us through the inexplicable fog punctured occasionally by sound loops. As the song comes into focus the vocals are treated with a wah-pedal. Then we come to the startling moment where he asks "what's that twitching/is it still alive??" and the "alive" lyric is screamed. So, reason number two: the unexpected. Nothing is ever entirely predictable in an Animal Collective song. There is repetition in their music, yes, but also change--sudden change or gradual change. And any band that can master a feeling of repetition while also utilizing sudden or gradual change is endlessly listenable.

3) Cobwebs: Many have latched unto the "we're not going underground"/"I'm not going underground" line from this song, perhaps in response to dubious claims that Strawberry Jam was leaning further toward mainstream pop music than they ever had before. But the important lyric to me is "the more I move the less I'm free" bit and the gorgeous chant of the song's title that proceeds it. That is the stinger of the song, not the obvious supposed-commentary on their music. I love the lack of obvious-ness about their music. There's never an easy lyric or rhyme, never a rote chorus or bridge. And the meanings of the songs...you might think you know what it's "about" but on closer inspection it turns up something different.

4) Seal Eyeing: This one flows out of the end of 'Cobwebs' on a cloud of gurgling water sounds and the beautiful piano that begins right off the bat gives me a picture in my head of the band floating on lily pads on a pond and playing the song. A slight, meditative, and ambient mood piece, 'Seal Eyeing' reminds one that the band's music runs the gamut from up-tempo/happy/rocking fare like 'Water Curses' and 'Peacebone' to the slower/trippier/sadder pieces like this and 'Cuckoo Cuckoo.' This is the last reason I love the band. Like any great artist, they can switch tone and style yet still maintain consistent quality and an unique aesthetic. Even if he isn't known for it, Stephen King gets funny or romantic sometimes, after all.

Animal Collective have been making music since the beginning of this decade and it's surprising what a significant portion of that time has felt defined by them. With each successive release their cache increases more and more. While their EPs have never been quite up to the same standard as their albums, Water Curses changes all that. It feels like a companion piece to Strawberry Jam in the way People didn't to Feels yet still retains a feel and pacing of its own. Not only that, it's the best and most consistent EP of their career. You can tell they must have agonized over these four songs because they're all very good but don't fit in with Strawberry Jam as well as that set of songs did together.

Lucky for us we have the EP format. Luckier still that bands like Animal Collective take advantage of its artistic potential.

Album of the Week: Fleet Foxes- Fleet Foxes

It's all well and good to listen to experimental and challenging music, music with grime, sweat, and blood caked unto every note...but sometimes you need a reminder of what else is out there. Music that is impossibly catchy, un-apologetically classicist in its songwriting while still being successful, or music that strives to uplift because it's just so damn beautiful. This kind of music is often unassuming in its greatness, in my opinion, because its immediacy has me wondering "is that it??" before realizing I don't need to apply the same scrutiny and work into appreciating it as I would the aforementioned "experimental, challenging" music.

The debut, self-titled album from Fleet Foxes resists this kind of criticism and desire to dig deeper. It makes you embarrassed of your critical faculties because it has a natural, organic, and pure beauty, as if complaining about it would be like complaining about a waterfall or a rose bush growing next to a farmhouse. That doesn't mean there isn't anything to say about it, so don't go away just yet.

While listening to Fleet Foxes I'm instantly reminded of what I think is half the reason most people hate indie/underground bands: the vocals. While I subscribe to the immortal words of David Berman of the Silver Jews--"All my favorite singers couldn't sing"--I can't pretend that some, or even most, people feel this way. Having a unique voice gives a band character and makes it more memorable, but this isn't what most listeners want. They want something appropriate to the music and a bit more...obvious, whether it be angry grunting set to metal or the flat speak-singing most rappers employ. While the singer of the Fleet Foxes may not have much personality, this is one of the prettiest albums in recent memory due solely to the vocal performances. Recalling Crosby, Stills, and Nash (and sometimes Young), the gold standard of harmonized vocals in rock music, Fleet Foxes also draw comparisons to contemporaries like My Morning Jacket and Band Of Horses. In case you don't follow, this means that the album is stuffed to bursting with soaring melodies and heartbreakingly pretty harmonies. Even if the singer is kind of faceless, he has to be for this kind of approach to work.

Though the music of Fleet Foxes is steeped in Americana, rustic folk, and classic rock, the whole thing reminds me a lot of the Flaming Lips's The Soft Bulletin in the way it uses staggeringly pretty orchestrated music to talk about dark lyrical themes. You don't really notice it at first, but on this album death is a recurring theme, along with general Appalachian malaise and introspection. 'He Doesn't Know Why', despite its prettiness, is the lament of a sibling for a brother who has been gone for two years, and who has been humbled by the world:
Penniless and tired with your hair grown long
I was looking at you there and your face looked wrong
memory is a fickle siren's song
I didn't understand
But, lyrics aside, the album is as pretty as I keep saying, the sort of music you idealize in your head when you use words like "lush", "ornate", and "gorgeous" to describe other bands or albums. Even the mostly instrumental 'Heard Them Stirring', which effectively uses wordless vocals in a way similar-to-but-entirely-different-from Animal Collective, is beautiful. Speaking of Animal Collective, some have noted their influence on this band though I suspect all they mean is a similar focus on using vocals in unique ways, as evidenced by the Collective-esque "row row row your boat" style of the singing on 'White Winter Hymnal', which is probably the most lush, ornate, and gorgeous song ever written about watching someone collapse from unnamed wounds and turn the snow "red as strawberries in the summertime." It's also worth praising the album for playing it loose with song structure, particularly the opener 'Sun It Rises', which begins with an a-capella section before the song proper begins, eventually closing things with a tacked on guitar outro that sounds like it might be beginning a different song before dropping out.

Fleet Foxes have here crafted one of the best debut albums in recent memory, containing some obvious influences but doing new and interesting things with them. Though normally I loathe bands repeating themselves, I wouldn't mind if Fleet Foxes released another album or two that was largely similar to this. After all, Fleet Foxes is like a countryside vacation simply too satisfying and too relaxing to never want to repeat.