I may not have the foggiest idea as to what these unkempt Brooklyn rascals are singing about, but so what? The Animal Collective are a timely reminder that music is about ‘sound’ as much as ‘sense’. Described by TimeOut NY as “the discovery of the year…” the band have already seen the release of three albums (‘Spirit They’re Gone, Spirit They’ve Vanished’, ‘Danse Manatee’, ‘Campfire Songs’) and a split 12“ as well as separate tours with both Múm and Four Tet.
A loose affiliation between central animal characters Avey Tare and Panda Bear, the Animal Collective showcase if nothing else a variety of non-specific yet exuberant ethnic influences and backward tape loop impersonations; catchy brainfood indeed for those raised on the likes of Syd Barrett, the Incredible String Band, XTC, Cocteau Twins, the Beach Boys and Simon and Garfunkel. Not that any of these influences are played straight. ‘Leaf House’ is like a T-Rex, Turin Brakes magic-mushroom ride across a universe of demented multi-tracked vocals and cat-impressions, whilst the flailing, tribal mantra of ‘Who Could Win A Rabbit’ risks only an absurdist’s idea of world-music.
The press-kit namechecks the production values of Joe Boyd and the Brazilian tropicalia/pop psychedelia of artists like Gilberto Gil or Milton Nasciemento but in all honesty, I’m not familair with either. In fact trying harness the energy of any comparison is going to to fail, as ‘Sung Tongs’ is about as slippery as they come. Why? Well listen up. ‘Kids On Holiday’ simulates the sound of the entire 1960s classic Beach Boy ensemble, Richie Valens and a 12-strong Peruvian drum band pissing around in the shower-room. And you can’t say that about many other songs out there at the moment. And it’s not long before they’re all back frying sausages in the brief but entirely charming ‘College’. On ‘Sweet Road’ fractal radio signals and white noise that provide the beat – worrying laughter provides the rest, whilst ‘The Softest Voice’s rainstick guitars trickle on your ear drum to the backing of a thousand open-tunings.
‘Sung Tongs’ is a mindlessly beautiful album that plays with layers of sound in the same way some people play with hot irons. A fine old show.