GoGoIndieCritic :: Animal Collective :: Strawberry Jam

Tug:
I’ll begin by saying that I’ve never been a huge Animal Collective fan (shock! gasp!). While I definitely think that its past efforts have been well done and commendable, there was always something about its fondness for chirpy, chipmunk-pitched vocals that didn’t appeal to me. What good are psychedelic lyrics if you can’t even make out the words? Never a band to sit still, though, 2005’s Feels saw the band play with less freak-folk and more rock sensibility. Then earlier this year, Animal Collective member Panda Bear (aka Noah Lennox) released the incredible, Brian Wilson-infused Person Pitch, and I really had to reexamine the band’s past efforts through new eyes. While I’m still not sold on all its old material, Animal Collective’s newest effort, Strawberry Jam, is exactly the direction that I think I’ve been wanting from the band since first hearing it.

The psych-pop and freak-folk are still prevalent, but now lyrics are more distinguishable (even if their content is no less confusing). Much of the album’s lyrics are concerned with food. In the first track 'Peacebone,' Avey Tare (aka David Porter) twangs, 'You’re progressing letters / That you use to cook your broccoli / The other side of takeout is mildew on rice.' So maybe not the most sensible (or savory) of food-centric lyrics, but there are other subjects searched here — living in Brooklyn on the hodgepodge hymn 'For Reverend Green' and just wanting to get done with work so you can smoke some weed and take a walk by yourself on the Person Pitch-esque 'Chores.'

If you’ve ever seen strawberry jam made, you know that it involves a lot of sticky, bubbling mash, and that pretty much describes the almost sickly sweet psych-pop candy that Animal Collective has created on this, its finest record.

4.4 of 5

Patrick:
Yep. It's an Animal Collective record, all right.

6.4 of 10.

GoGoIndieCritic :: Okkervil River :: The Stage Names

We all want our lives to be like the movies. Overcome some terrible trials with a John Wayne swagger and a wry Bogart grin, kiss Lauren Bacall, and live happily ever after - or at least die a hero’s death trying. Reality is a much more tedious exercise in banality and frustration, which is why we’re so fascinated with films in the first place. On their fourth full-length, Okkervil River explores the disappointment with a life unglamorous in what is perhaps the best-written album of the year.

From the opening track 'Our Life Is Not a Movie or Maybe,' singer Will Sheff complains, 'It’s just a life story/ Where there’s no climax,' launching an album of indictments of forced mid-level success and the plight of the working class. It’s a familiar subject, covered even by fellow Austin-ites Spoon, but Sheff’s downright poetic lyrics single out this album as one of the best of its kind. The album ends with 'John Allyn Smith Sails,' a look at indie rock’s recent inspiration, poet John Berryman, that eventually steals/rewrites The Beach Boys’ 'Sloop John B,' turning it into a dark but hysterical joke about suicide. The line, 'Well, this is the worst trip I’ve ever been on,' takes on a whole new meaning. It’s something that only a brilliant songwriter like Sheff could pull off.

The band plays their part as well, creating a cinematic musical soundscape with the intimacy of early Elvis Costello and bombastic build and climaxes of Bruce Springsteen. A great deal of credit must go to Okkervil River drummer and founder Seth Warren who drives the album like a halfway broken-down tour van. The music carries such passion through its swells that Sheff can then sing with the conviction that his astoundingly personal lyrics deserve.

4.3 out of 5

Bonus: The new video for 'Our Life Is Not a Movie or Maybe.'

GoGoIndieCritic :: Bishop Allen :: The Broken String

Bishop Allen, indie rock darlings of both bloggers and NPR, followed up their debut pop masterpiece Charm School with an unbelievably ambitious project that saw them independently release an EP every month in 2006, adding up to a total of 58 songs released in a little over a year. Probably the biggest flaw of The Broken String is that ten of the twelve tracks are re-workings of songs from the EP project. However, they are all completely re-recorded, generally with better production value, and generally, sound better. And after such an arduous project, we can hardly blame them for fudging it a bit.

Probably the most disappointing of the re-workings is 'Corazon,' a sweet tune about lead singer Justice Rice finding a used piano on the side of the road and how learning to play it changed his way of writing songs ('So I pulled up the seat/ And I swear, I felt a pulse beneath your keys/ To urge your hammers along, Corazon.') The original recording was driven by the piano, but it becomes something of an afterthought on the new album, only showing up here and there.

Aside from this misstep, the rest of the album finds Bishop Allen doing what they do best - making witty, versatile pop that shifts subtly from whimsical to majestic. For instance, standout track 'Flight 180' starts off quietly droning as Rice sings of the inherent sense of doom and isolation of a plane trip, but then an orchestral build of epic proportions occurs as Rice notices a nervous passenger - 'Now the man in the middle seat/ Recites his times tables audibly/ But I know he means/ "If you feel like dancing/ Dance with me."' It’s moments like this that make the album and remind you just why you like music so damn much.

3.9 out of 5.0

Buy The Broken String here

Bishop Allen's Official Website

Bishop Allen on MySpace

GoGoIndieCritic :: Spoon :: Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga

Since their move to Merge with 2001’s Girls Can Tell, Spoon has been pushing at their own boundaries like a painter who’s created a beautiful portrait but can’t help adding just one more brushstroke every time he passes the canvas, slightly changing the image without tarnishing its appeal. The Austin band’s sixth album Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga is perhaps the most successful of these attempts even though on a first listen, one prays for a return to the hooks of Gimme Fiction’s 'I Turn My Camera On' or even the recondite lyricism of 'The Beast and Dragon, Adored.' However, this album is the definition of a grower; the blue-eyed soul and roguish hooks sneaking up behind you when you least expect it.

Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga manages to perfectly encapsulate exactly what Britt Daniel and Co. are all about as well. On the Jon Brion-produced pop gem 'The Underdog', horns blast over jangly acoustic guitar as Daniel kicks against the pricks, crooning, 'You got no fear of the underdog/ That’s why you will not survive.' Their compassion for the middle man striving against the comforting pressure to just be mediocre is again revisited on 'Finer Feelings' where Daniel sings, 'Sometimes I think that I'll find a love/ One that's gonna change my heart/ And I'll find it in Commercial Appeal/ And then this heartache'll get chased away.' Here, the liberal Memphis paper’s name holds an interesting if not immediately obvious double meaning, right before the song drops out and is replaced with untraceable crowd noise and filtered talkback.

This album also cements Britt Daniel as one of the finest frontmen in music today. His sleepy Elvis-Costello-by-way-of-Texas drawl creates an alienating yet alluring dynamic that fits the band perfectly.

4.5 of 5

Spoon The Ghost of You Lingers

Spoon Rhthm and Soul (Live)

Buy Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga here.