Review: Merriweather Post Pavilion

My relationship with Pitchfork has always been a marriage of convenience. It was and never will be love, but I think we genuinely like each other. We sort of fell into this thing, but it works for us. It’s an open marriage; she let’s me peruse through other editorials and in return, I let her tend to her flock of electronic-dance-pop enthusiast hipsters. We don’t judge each other. She thinks it’s endearing that I actually still like Ben Folds and as much as I fucking hate the Thermals, I know it’s her job to keep me informed on their upcoming tour and film them playing on top of a building in New York. This is our life. It’s not a perfect relationship, I know, but it works for us. When I come home after a long day, I know she’s there for me, ready with a five course meal of new albums. Sure, sometimes it’s a little dry, but that’s life. I’ll get some take-out down the street if I don’t like what she’s serving.

So when Pitchfork kept trying to force Animal Collective down my throat, I kindly told her I wasn’t interested. It was about two years ago when she first tried, and I wasn’t having anything to do with it. Then shortly after, she completely tricked me by giving me Panda Bear, an Animal Collective offshoot that floored me with thoughts of Brian Wilson totally just hanging in the future. I felt a little embarrassed. I admittedly didn’t give Animal Collective a chance before, but in an effort to save face, I stuck to my stance of, “Yeah, Panda Bear is really good, but I don’t like Animal Collective.” I mean, this is a band that can do a Take Away Show without playing any real music and convince the director that it was an act of musical genius. Here. That kind of power justifiably terrified me.That kind of hero worship in a band is a dangerous thing. No musician, no matter how great, is infallible. So when someone makes shit, we have to be able to call it for what it is: shit. Every Brian Wilson has his Smart Girls.

But Pitchfork didn’t relent; last week they offered me an album that was almost guaranteed to be in their top ten this December long before it ever came out. And having made a vow to myself to pay better attention to more music this year, I was forced to admit defeat and give Merriweather Post Pavilion a spin.

And damn it, it's good.

While eleven songs which never pass the six minute mark may seem a little mainstream for a band with the reputation of Animal Collective, it is a welcome change of pace. And as little right as I have to say it, I don’t think I am alone in that opinion. It appears that making a collection of singles rather than a rambling album has served to rein in those more eccentric tendencies, all the while highlighting the strength of the band’s song-weaving.

This album, I realized, is an eye-opener to those heretics like me, those unconverted souls on the fringes of the empire, although it is unlikely to convert anyone beyond the periphery. It instantly made me wonder what about this band I was missing before. Was it my musical taste that changed, or was it them? So I ventured into the band’s back catalogue, and came to a conclusion. Whereas the Animal Collective of yesteryear tended to surround moments of outstanding music with atmospheric bullshit (given there is a certain brilliance to the successful implementation of a sonic landscape), 2009 sees the band cutting the bullshit out and getting straight into business. I can only assume that when I listened to Strawberry Jam in 2007, I couldn’t get past that thick fog.

Lyrically, these are songs about absolutely nothing and everything all at once. About family and love in the purest sense. No lies, just the way things are. He just wants “four walls and abode slabs for [his] girls.” There is nothing to prove on this album and so there is nothing to decipher. Musically these songs are complex snowballs that pack together more layers as they roll down the sonic landscape, never competing with gravity. They are somehow both feel manufactured and natural, which in this case go well together.

In an attempt to be at least a little creative, I've decided to rate albums by drawing incomplete stars. Basically, how much of the star I draw means how good the album is. Get it?

Animal Collective's MySpace Page

And that’s my first review, sorry I didn’t write about the actual music more, but I think the album speaks for itself. Here’s hoping this year in music is half as good as 2008.

And, Pitchfork, thanks babe. Kisses.