Plan B
Ever fainted? It’s beyond cliché these days to describe music as being a headrush, but what about a proper old-school swoon? When your ears turn in on themselves, ringing and whooshing like a Hare Krishna troupe trapped in a sea shell, and starry-eyed tunnel vision puts your concerned friends at the wrong end of the telescope as the man spins you around on the waltzers just as…thud.
That’s what the first taste of Strawberry Jam is like. Overwhelming, yet curiously unattainable, like being invisible at your own birthday party, or if the legenday wall of sound were actually a one-way mirror. If Panda Bear’s solo Person Pitch from a few months back was the kind of album to gently scatter rose petals in kaleidoscope patterns around pre-walking moments, Strawberry Jam is the icy bucket of water thrown at 6am. Featuring the full Collective complement of Avey Tare, Panda Bear, Geologist and Deakin, it shakes off the folkish haze of Sung Tongs’ campfire huddles and Feels’ exotic pet sounds, frugging and chugging in time to some interior perpetual rhythm with the puzzling zeal of someone slapping themselves repeatedly in the face. Chirping guitars, clashing cymbals and what sounds like phlegm being hacked up, all thrum and vibrate through these nine songs so forcefully that if it were on vinyl, I’d worry about the record shaking free of the turntable.
Persist, however, and eventually Strawberry Jam becomes a musical version of a zoetrope, the Victorian parlour toy where peeking into a whirling drum reveals magical moving images. The relentless sonic buffeting blurs into a framing flicker through which the rest of the songs appear more animated. And before you know it, you’re swept up into their world, glue to the sides by centrifugal force and spun faster than sight before being deposited breathlessback against the antimacassars.
Animal Collective’s skill is to somehow tap into the knee-level perspective of childhood. But not for them Boards Of Canada’s skilful manufacture of false memories onto overexposed Super-8 complete with woozy audio. It’s more a channelling of the kind of heightened sense of self and the world around felt (as Jarvis once put it), “Some kind of life with the edges taken off” took over. So ‘Peacebone’ starts with the feeding frenzy of a thousand robot gerbils, then coalesces around the primeval pulse of tom-toms punctuated with whipcracks and exclamations, before a wide-eyed Tare declares, ”The taste of your cooking can make me bow on the ground” and, ”It’s not my words that you should follow / It’s your inside”.
’Fireworks’ is even more lovelorn (”Now it’s eight, I’ve been trying to get that taste off my tongue / I was dreaming of just you, now our cereal is warm”) yet those paper hearts carry a sharp edge of can’t-last-forever nostalgia, hinted at by an underlying sigh of cello and “ooh-wee-ooh” backing vocals that wish just a little too hard for everything to be like it is in pop songs. Meanwhile, ‘Chores’ pulls off the feat of sounding as though it was written backwards and at double speed, yanking itself around abrupt notes and odd stresses like an escapee from Avey Tare and Kria Brekkan’s recent, actually-backwards Pullhair Rubeye.
It’s not all fun and grown-up games, though, and Strawberry Jam takes joy in smiling most winningly while its feet lurch and wobble on a line of wire-strung nerves. ‘Unsolved Mysteries’ is all merry fairground wheezing and paddle steamer chugging as its golden boy goes bad: ”And what a surprise, to look in those eyes / To find suddenly he is Jack The Ripper”. ‘For Reverend Green’ seethes with the indignation of a spurned lover before erupting into dry-heaving rage, while even the warm, reverb-heavy guitar and party shakers of ‘Derek’ hide an uneasy tale that could be about a pet, or a child, who ”Never had a voice like you / To scream when he wanted something”.
‘Cuckoo Cuckoo’ is where the hysteria goes once all the happiness has flaked off. It may be true that, ”You can’t feel a thing / No heart flutters in late spring”, but the music offers no such numbness: those electronic fizzles and whistles are now harsh and needling, while there’s no trampoline to cushion the crashes, only a scant consolation from doleful piano.
But whether it’s whooping with laughter or trying to catch breath between sobs, Strawberry Jam is Animal Collective’s most heartfelt, energised record yet. That thumping in your ears? It’s a reminder that you’re alive. Put your head between your knees and listen.
Clash
When Clash rang up the Animal Collective for this interview – their manager, Brad, was sounding a little bit stressed as he man-handled a tyre iron trying to change a puncture on their tour bus.
”It’s a bit weird – it wasn’t a blow-out. More like someone put a screw or something in there when it was parked,” explains band member and sound sampler Brian Wietz as Brad hands him the phone.
Also known as Geologist (because someone mistakenly thought he’d studied rocks instead of biology) he met his other three band mates, Avey Tare, Panda Bear and Deakin, at high school when he moved to Baltimore from Philadelphia at the age of 14.
“What’s Baltimore like? Well, we were talking to someone in the UK the other week and they compared Baltimore to some place called Coventry,” he says, instantly conjuring up an image of a collaboration between them and The Enemy and The Specials in my mind’s eye. You never know – it might just work…
The foursome, renowned for their experimental music, aren’t really the types to attract tyre slashers, so they must have just gotten unlucky with some Dutch hooligan. Sitting somewhere in the south of the Netherlands, “I don’t really know how pronounce the name of this town”, they’re playing a raft of European festivals to support the imminent release of their eighth album, ‘Strawberry Jam’.
Now there are four of them, so obviously the first question that springs to mind if whether or not they pair up. To tag team wrestle. Or maybe to play ping pong? “Ummm, there’s not really any wrestling action in the band,” is the very chilled out reply in an East Coast drawl. “But if you go through the history, it’s like Josh and Noah were friends, and Dave and I were friends first. And then the two pairs kinda came together. I guess if we were playing table tennis then you’d have to split up Dave and Noah – they both grew up playing it and had bigger brothers to practise against.” Who’d have thought table tennis would garner such a reaction? “I’ve found myself on the same end of the table as Dave a few times and it’s pretty even between the two sides. I’m not the best table tennis player, though I guess. I would not put money on me. I have the least experience when it comes to paddles.”
This September, ‘Strawberry Jam’ will be released on the can’t-do-much-wrong-at-the-moment label Domino Records. As Animal Collective kind of fall into the ‘experimental’ category, and have been allowed to do what they like when they were signed to small time labels Catsup Plate and Fat Cat, it must be hard to make their music with a major breathing down their neck. I ask Brian how much freedom they were allowed for this record. “Total freedom. We always had it in the early days and when our contract was up with Fat Cat and we were looking for another deal, freedom was one of our ‘rules’,” the man known as Geologist says. “Some labels weren’t going to give us total creative reign – some of the majors wanted something like a ‘Feels’ [the last album] part two, and that’s all they wanted to release. That kinda ended the discussion there with them.” So it sounds like they found a perfect place to live then… “Domino is a pretty open minded and adventurous label. That’s what they wanted out of Animal Collective – they’d been following us for a long time and they didn’t want to change anything about how we work, which is pretty cool.”
The Animal Collective sound is very organic, and stems from a wide and varied spectrum of influences. For instance, the lush valley, forests and farmland in which they were surrounded when they grew up in the Baltimore ‘burbs, comes through on their records just as much as the noise of the big bad city of New York, which the foursome use as a base for the band. Interestingly, nearby Philadelphia, which is steeped in musical history, holds no interest for most of them. Apart from Brian who grew up listening to soul on the radio, none of the other band members dig the sounds coming from that city. No longer living in each other’s pockets, the band are now spread out all over the place – Noah Lennox AKA Panda Bear, currently resides I Portugal. Because of this, Animal Collective has become a bit more structured. They can’t sit and jam for hours on end, as they did in their youth, to come up with a song. Dave Porter (Avey Tare) and Noah are the most melodically inclined, and had already written, or at least started, the melodies that appear in many of the tracks on ‘Strawberry Jam’ before the four of them got together to record the album.
Known for taking all kinds of sounds, and sampling and mixing them to eventually appear on their records, the only actual instruments you pretty much hear them playing is guitars, keyboards and drums. A lot of the music comes from noises recorded around their houses or something found on various recordings – in the new album Brian actually uses the sound of a seal to musical effect. “That’s pretty much my favourite sound yet,” he tells me, adding, “Not many people can say they’ve played a seal on their record.”
Their obsession to make ground breaking, provocative music, has le the Animal Collective to be somewhat of a Marmite band: you love ‘em or hate ‘em. “I just hope that some people will give us some credit for trying and caring about our music and not think that we’re playing some kind of joke on India rock just because it’s fashionable at the moment,” Brian concludes. Some people love what they’re doing because they think it’s some kind of ironic take on society, while others hate them for the very same reason. The reality is that the band love making music. Full stop. To them it’s not a question of whether it’s relevant or commenting on what’s going on in the world – they’re just doing exactly what they’ve been doing since they were at school.
And with that, Clash leaves them to get on with the flat tyre. With seven albums down and the new one about to come out – with the full backing of Domino; Animal Collective’s ‘Strawberry Jam’ really won’t be a let down.
TNT
Sounds Like Bonkers electro from the future. A soundclash of animal growls, death screams and achingly pretty melodies. The word experimental doesn’t adequately describe Animal Collective’s sound. Let’s just say they make Arcade Fire look like staid old grannies.
Vital Statistics Hailing from Baltimore, Maryland, but now scattered variously across New York, Washington and Lisbon, Portugal, the Animal Collective are made up of schoolmates Panda Bear (Noah Lennox), Geologist (Brian Weitz), Deaken (Josh Dibb) and Avey Tare (Dave Portner).
Need To Know After putting out eight albums, including more recent critically acclaimed efforts Sung Tongs and Feels, the Animal Collective have hit paydirt with their most recent Strawberry Jam, which looks set to thrust the bizarre quartet into the public consciousness at least.
The Critics Say “As the title implies, Strawberry Jam is strange: luxurious and fractious, wistful and atonal, the Beach Boys infused with techno’s sensibility.” - Observer Music Monthly
The Band Say “We were on a plane coming home from Greece…the stewardess came over and handed me a tray of food, a piece of bread and a packet of strawberry jam. I remember looking at it and thinking, ‘Man, it would be so cool if our music sounded what this stuff looks like’, you know, this really crazy synthetic, futuristic-looking gel.” - Dazed & Confused
We Say No, not pretentious, just completely and utterly nuts, but the kind of nuts which spawns the odd masterpiece.
The Plug Strawberry Jam is out today (Monday) on Domino Records.
Dazed & Confused
It’s a warm summer evening in Lisbon. The guys of Animal Collective are a bit sluggish, tired from a day spent getting their eccentric musical machine into order for the road. Their three-week European tour, set to kick off in just a few days, is to promote their eagerly anticipated eighth album, Strawberry Jam. In a typical Animal Collective fashion, however, the songs they are preparing to play are all new – none of them will feature on the record. Whether it’s a blessing or a curse, their aversion to normal music industry rules is what has kept them a the forefront of experimental music since they first emerged back in 2000.
Walking the city’s hilly streets, Panda Bear (aka Noah Lennox) assures his bandmates that he knows somewhere nice to eat, his voice hoarse from days of strain. As he leads everyone through the neighborhood that he, his wife, and their two-year-old daughter have made their home for the past two years, the conversation is scant.
”This area of the city is really nice,” he says, his skinny frame slightly hunche over. “I spend a lot of my time here. I wrote a song the other day just wandering around here in the rain. It’s sweet.”
On arriving, the Americans stare blankly at the restaurant’s menu, trying unsuccessfully to decipher the Portuguese specials. “How do you say ‘water without the bubbles?’” asks Geologist (aka Brian Weitz), breaking the silence. “Sem gaz,” mumbles Panda Bear, his long locks hiding his face. As they sit, quietly content in their crumpled t-shirts and floppy hairdos, it’s difficult to tell whether their blank stares are due to exhaustion, complete boredom or the fact that a stranger has been brazen enough to invade their inner circle. Luckily, at the first mention of Strawberry Jam, each of their faces light up so intensely it’s like fireworks have gone off inside their eyeballs.
”We were on a plane coming home from Greece,” recalls Panda Bear. “I was sitting in the seat closest to the aisle and the stewardess came over and handed me a tray of food – a piece of bread and a packet of strawberry jam. I remember opening it up, looking at it and thinking, ‘Man, it would be so cool if our music sounded like what this stuff looks like.’ You know, like this really crazy, synthetic, futuristic-looking gel,” he says completely straight-faced. Everyone nods in agreement. It is this peculiar yet candid sincerity that hints at how the collective brain of this colourful group operates.
Their mystic, mysterious persona is a big part of the reason why music critics and fans of the leftfield are so enamoured with this gang of outsiders. That, and the fact that for the past seven years these four cult heroes of experimental music have made such consistently uncompromising, unique music, and have never sought to change themselves or their image in order to sell records. When pressed on the subject, their response is a simple one.
”The word accessible isn’t in our vocabulary,” drawls Geologist, followed by a long drag of his cigarette. The delivery is so nonchalantly cool it’s almost hard to believe his response wasn’t previouslt planned out.
Despite the successes they’ve accrued, however, none of the band members seem to be the slightest bit phased by the repeated praise they’ve received from both the media and their peers. Slowly sipping the house red, they chat about the results of the football game they watched the previous night, and the new Thai pop record they were listening to a few hours earlier. The old friends all seem to be totally content just to be in each other’s company once again.
I don’t have many friends here,” confesses Panda Bear. “Sometimes I watch sports with my next-door neighbours, so I guess that means he’s a friend, but I mostly spend my time with my wife and daughter.”
”We’re all home-bodies in a way,” adds the tattooed lead vocalist and most talkative member of the group, Avey Tare (aka Dave Portner). “We feel really fortunate that we’re able to do what we do, but at the same time it’s taking us away from this other really stable life. For example, my wife’s having a hard time that I’m here right now. I guess we’re just all in the process of learning how to balance these things, but it helps that we’re all going through the same things together.”
The extremely close-knit, team-like aspect of the band stems from them being friends from a very young age. Originally from Baltimore, Maryland, the group has been making music under the name Animal Collective since they were 20-year-olds (“collective” being the key word, as the four member have varied in role and involvement from record to record).
Now scattered in cities all over the globe (New York, Washington, Lisbon) the group’s creative process has understandably become slightly trickier since their move from Brooklyn, two years ago.
We’ve become more organised,” says Avey Tare, swinging his wine glass from side to side in front of his eyes. “Since the move it’s been more about each of us individually working on things, and then getting together and developing the songs until they have their own individual personality.”
”It has to be more focused when you’ve scheduled plane flights in order to be together and get stuff done,” says Deacon (aka Josh Dibb). “There’s also a growing feeling of it becoming more like a job – that it’s my responsibility to be the best I can at this. But I mean that in the best way possible. I couldn’t think of a better job actually.”
Avey Tare laughs at the words that are about to come out of his mouth. “We’ve also started doing things like emailing one another MP3s.”
”Yeah,” interrupts Geologist with a sly smile. “But no one ever thinks to do that until the night before rehearsal, so we never have time to learn our parts anyway.”
This separateness accounts for much of the reason why the emotional and lyrical content of Strawberry Jam is, pardon the pun, all over the map. While their previous record, Feels, reflected the glory of being together and falling in love, Strawberry Jam reflects the darker side of growing up, focusing heavily on what it means being away from their families and lovers for long periods of time.
”The songs were all written at different time and in different places, so the vibes and the emotions are, in the same way, very different from each other,” explains Avey Tare. “Whereas in the past we’ve tried to write albums where everything kind of mixes together, this time we tried to do the opposite – to make it so all the songs have a separate feeling. I don’t think it’s trying to say one thing specifically. It’s more about acknowledging the fact tht we are in a transitional period, exploring what it’s like to be an adult and being in transit, the jarring nature of that.”
”We want the music to reflect what we’re going through in our lives and what we’re experiencing as people and what we’re thinking about,” adds Panda Bear, almost whispering. His soft-spoken nature is an endearing characteristic. “That kind of thing is constantly changing, so the music has to follow those changes. For example our song ‘Chores’ is about having more responsibility as you get older, and realising that.” |
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