Tag Archives: animal collective

#915: Animal Collective – New Town Burnout

1 Reply

‘New Town Burnout’ is one of two tracks that Noah Lennox, known as Panda Bear by many a person, brought to the table when he and his fellow bandmates in Animal Collective set out to make Centipede Hz. The album turns ten in September this year, time flies, huh. The song was one that was a leftover from Lennox’s solo Tomboy project that had been released the year before. It’s fair to say that you can tell this was the case just by listening to them both. They share the same sonic similarities, a huge emphasis on its percussive elements and the low-end with enveloping reverb-drenched chord progressions on top. The main difference here though is that the track’s filled with all these snippets of samples and noises, in keeping with Centipede‘s alien band radio concept.

I didn’t get to Centipede Hz until about 2014. That was the year I was on my Animal Collective trip, trying to find as much of their music as I could. ‘New Town Burnout’ stuck out as a highlight to me, I think on that second or third listen, and with all the listens since then I continue to find little moments, melodies and other oddities in the mix that are never so apparent on the first try. Like how when Panda starts singing his verse, there’s this other vocal that mirrors his, but is continually ascending and descending. It’s hard to describe. It’s hard to describe a lot of things on here actually. There are guitars, but they don’t sound like them. There are these ‘hoo-hoo-hoo’ vocals which might not even be vocals. The only thing that remains consistent is the booming rhythm. Very hypnotizing when you focus on it, and it’s only interrupted by those erratic synths that then transition into the next track.

Panda Bear’s a family man. He likes the simple things in life. He’s written plenty of songs that echoes those sentiments. And ‘New Town Burnout’ is no different in that it’s about being bored with touring, and wanting to go home and sit down in peace for a bit. When he makes it back to his place, he’ll take off his shoes and coat, he’ll put his belongings someplace (doesn’t really matter where, he’ll know where they are) and sleep without having to worry about the things that usually arise when on the road. Can’t say I’m in the position where I can relate, but he sings it very well and sounds very earnest which is want you always want from a song. When he goes for those higher notes for the “No more at the wrong…” lyrics, it’s always a thumbs up. And as the track nears its end, he lulls the listener to slumber with those elongated repetitions of “Light” before stressing that “t” sound on the beat. Words don’t do the music much justice, but it’s good, good stuff.

#867: Animal Collective – Mouth Wooed Her

Leave a reply

Hard to know where to start with this one. Back in 2014 when I was properly getting into Animal Collective and heard Sung Tongs for the first time, my personal highlights became clear straight away. I certainly didn’t consider ‘Mouth Wooed Her’ to be one of them. I guess I just thought it was too strange. And, I mean, you couldn’t really blame me for that initial reaction. Avey Tare is not your average singer. And the track changes its time signature and shifts through many movements… it’s one to get your head around.

Then one day that I couldn’t possibly recall, it was definitely years after 2014, I heard it once more and it all seemed to make a lot more sense. Sometimes that’s the way it goes when it comes to music. But would I say it’s my favourite track on the album? Probably not. But I appreciate it quite a bit. It is weird, but simultaneously quite flowing and free to the ears. I think I would put that down to its waltz timing. And the vocal melody’s pretty memorable to. Avey Tare sings along with every downbeat (I believe, I’m not a music theorist) which gives the track that little bit of a bounce. It’s like the vocals are jumping with every delivery of a line in a verse. It takes a strange turn at about 1:40 in, which I’m sure confused on that first listen. Still does now, just a bit. But then after a quiet moment it launches back into the final few verses and all sounds good again. That is until about a minute later when the slow breakdown section starts with hazy acoustic guitars, claps, and Avey Tare singing that he needs mouth water repeatedly for the rest of the song’s duration. ‘Mouth Wooed Her’ is play on ‘mouth water’, by the way. A lot of wordplay happens in the song titles on this album.

So, yeah. Not my favourite, but won’t skip whenever it appears on a train journey. Will this post sway you to give the track a listen and throw you down an Animal Collective-shaped rabbit hole? Well, that’s questionable. But at the very least, I tried.

#857: Animal Collective – Moonjock

1 Reply

I was a couple years late when it came to hearing Centipede Hz for the first time. Although it was released in the autumn of 2012, it wasn’t until my first year of university that I had my Animal Collective phase and went through their big four albums to see what all the fuss was about. The fuss wasn’t in vain. That run of albums is one of the greatest of mid-late 2000s indie music. Though through research, I witnessed that people didn’t take to Centipede Hz as kindly. Pitchfork Media likened the music on there to a burrito being thrown at a windshield. And it seemed that a lot of fans they had gained just wanted an MPP Part 2, and when they didn’t they got upset. As someone who wasn’t aware of any of that at that point, I can say with all my heart that Centipede Hz is all right. Not my favourite, but probably a lot of other people’s. I’d say it’s like a spiritual successor to Strawberry Jam. It has some great songs on there. ‘Moonjock’ is one, and it’s the first song on there.

So you put in the CD, or just click on the track name on streaming services, and you get these strange vocal samples that glitch and switch from one voice to another. Kinda like switching a radio channel, which was part of the concept of the album. A countdown ensues, and the track’s official rhythm begins with a stomping 7/4 beat accentuated by an open hi-hat. Sounds very metallic, like I’m in a factory with these pumps and other robotic things you find in those places. That feel’s maintained throughout. But it’s contrasted with the nostalgic lyricism by Avey Tare who remembers the good times of driving on the road with his family as a kid. His father would take the wheel, his mom would sing to pass the time, and generally they’d go from place to place to a point where he was hypnotized by everything he’d seen. It’s a burst of energy and youthful excitement, a good tone to start of any album with.

The track comes to a sudden stop just as things seem to start getting wilder, but all this radio interference lingers. Long enough that it transitions into the next track and the album carries on its momentum. But, you know. Well, maybe you don’t. Animal Collective fans know that the group tend to start their albums off very well. You can count on them for good album openers. ‘Moonjock’ is no exception.

#746: Animal Collective – Lion in a Coma

Leave a reply

Believe it or not, ‘Lion in a Coma’ was the first track from Merriweather Post Pavilion that struck me as being the most catchy and memorable. I went through the album for at least the second or third time while in my first semester as a fresher in university – it sounded like nothing I had ever heard before so I was quite perplexed as to what I was hearing the first time, that perplexity turned into admiration afterwards – and it was this song that I was humming to myself while walking down the road or going to my lecture. At that point I didn’t know what the lyrics were, but it was a song that was definite memorable melody. Weird time signature too.

There’ll be some who’ll agree with me and think “Why say ‘believe it or not’? I think [this song]’s great!”. Well, I’ve been on the Animal Collective subreddit and there are those who hear that Jew’s harp sample at the beginning and that’s a wrap for them. They can’t go on. I’ve never thought it was obnoxious. Once Avey Tare begins with his rambling lyricism, that harp blends into the background and from then on my main focus is on the fat rhythm set from the low end. I guess it’s the bass drum of the song, even though there are no drums present on it. The track is definitely something you can dance to, though not in normal ways – more like erratically moving your limbs and head to fit the beat and the spaces in between.

If you’re looking sideways at the title, it’s a play on the words ‘lying in a coma’. This song sees Avey Tare in a general sense of confusion and something of an identity crisis. He gets worried in times when you would think he would be at his most happiest and this sends him into a mode of overthinking. All this is perfectly matched with the odd time signature (9/8) and the way all of the lyrics such seemed to fall freely from Tare’s mouth. It’s a busy song, a lot goes on. One of my favourites from the album though.

#719: Animal Collective – Leaf House

Leave a reply

In previous posts I’ve mentioned here and there that there have been certain bands who were essentially the soundtrack to a year in my life. The Beatles were 2009/10. The Who were 2010/11. Well, Animal Collective covered my first year of university – 2013/14 for anyone invested. Sung Tongs was the third album of theirs that I got around to listening to, following Merriweather Post Pavilion and Strawberry Jam. It took a few listens for both to set in, but once they did they became two of my new favourite albums very quickly. Why I chose Sung Tongs next I’m not too sure but I was certainly interested as to what it would sound like.

‘Leaf House’ is the weird, mysterious but captivating and attention-grabbing opening to Sung Tongs; there definitely isn’t any other album opener that’s quite like it. A distorted whirring sound opens the track before suddenly jerking into the song’s main rhythm, formed by booming tom-toms, jumping acoustic guitars and bouncing vocals between David Portner (Avey Tare) and Noah Lennox (Panda Bear) that come frequently throughout the whole album. Despite it not being a typical 4-on-the-floor toe tapper, the herky-jerky percussion alongside the general warm tone of the track can send me into a trance if I’m really focusing on the music.

For a long time fans theorised that the track was influenced by the novel House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski, due to them both sharing themes of cats and a man who doesn’t go outside much. Portner revealed it was more about Lennox’s childhood house, with some lyrics written in regards to the passing of Lennox’s father. It’s quite a sad song when looking into it but some of that tension is alleviated by the “kitties” outro. Is it strange? For some first time listeners it could be considered to be. But once you get it, it never leaves.