Animal Collective returns to earth with solid, not stellar Centipede Hz

I had a hard time getting into Animal Collective, until a friend gave one of the best pieces of advice ever about this band. You can't be preoccupied with what your expectations are or what you think their music should be. Each album is its own unique journey, and the listener has to be willing to let the band take them where they want you to go. They aren't the only band this applies to, but for a band as out there as Animal Collective it's non-negotiable. Take their music on these terms or not at all.

Naturally, this requires the ultimate test of open mindedness on the listeners' part. But few bands are capable of taking you to such exotic, otherworldly locales as Dave Portner, aka Avey Tare, and crew.

Coming off the career affirming success of 2009's Merriweather Post Pavillion, the band found itself in a dilemma. Merriweather was not wholly representative of the sound they had been issuing on the eight albums that preceded it. Do they be true to themselves, or streamline their sound further?

Those who jumped on the Merriweather Post Pavilion bandwagon may be less thrilled with the route they chose. Centipede Hz is a return to form for the Baltimore psych rockers, while still signifying they understand the importance of melody. It presents a dizzying blend of fuzz, static and radio waves, while projecting an image of being stranded in deep space.

Opener "Moonjock" clatters and sputters to life like a projector that hasn't been used in a long ages, then kicks into gear with a series of sharp buzzing percussive cymbal clashes before launching into a tune that sounds like Avey is broadcasting from space. It ends with a joyous climax that gives a hint of the party that Animal Collective is gearing up for.

Some songs sound like they were written by someone with severe ADD. "Applesauce" and "Monkey Riches," in particular, are a massive clusterfuck. They are characterized by an ever shifting, ever evolving gyroscope of different hooks and melodies. Keeping up with the structure of "Monkey Riches" can trip up even the most steadfast listeners; at over six minutes it can't sit still for any significant length of time. Even Avey Tare seems in awe of the staggering collection of riffs he's assembled here, as he sings: "It makes me wonder how I even wrote this song/ Does this not occur to almost everyone?" In truth, the lyric actually reflects more upon trying to make it through a tough day to day existence, but one could be excused for thinking it a comment on Portner's songwriting.

Both Panda Bear tracks are loopy slow burners. "New Town Burnout" in particular sounds like he's suffering from a drug burnout as he slowly meanders his way through the song. It captures the droning atmosphere of pieces like "Scheherazade" and "Drone" from Tomboy while also possessing a watery, fluid sound like something from Down There. The instrumental break feels like The Little Mermaid on acid. It isn't the only song with fluidy, watery beats. "Pulleys" and "Father Time" also fit into this mold, seeming to draw influence from Down There.

While Panda Bear's voice sounds very similar to Avey Tare's, there's no mistaking Deakin, who takes lead vocal on "Wide Eyed." His voice is flat, but gives the track a psychedelic Indian vibe. The track gets loopy at the end with maniacal laughing and tape loops running over each other.

There are even progressive elements in play at certain places. "Today's Supernatural," for example, goes through several clear phases, and when it ends it's clearly a different type of song than it was in the beginning. The opening verse is bolstered by a demented buzzing riff which is reminiscent of the organ grinder guy in the windmill who teaches you The Song of Storms from The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. But it gets spacier and more thoughtful as it progresses, ending with Portner musing: "Today feels so supernatural."

Another key element on this album is transitions. It's something the band has been obsessed with ever since flawlessly merging together the first two tracks on Campfire Songs, and over the years they've further refined the technique. Songs seamlessly flow into one another, often assisted by spacey, radio wave effects that earmark the album. "Moonjock" and "Today's Supernatural" both float around in a warbly spacey wash of radio wave effects before transitioning into the next piece. Recognizing that the audience needs a breather from time to time, however, the band does insert clear start and end points at the end of songs at regular intervals.

Animal Collective's lyrics are often bizarre and rambling, but despite that they do manage to get a clear theme across. It's like reading an essay paper from a slacker student; there's often a bunch of excess and extraneous verbiage that doesn't seem to relate to their central point, but you can see what they're getting at. "Today's Supernatural," for instance, contains imagery including dressing yourself up in chains and paint dripping from a canvas on an easel. But the real story is told by the central refrain let-let-let-let go; the song at its core talks about relaxing, easing up, and taking things as they come.

Some songs provide more clarity. "Applesauce" is quite clearly about the awesomeness of eating fruit, while "Moonjock" charmingly tells the story of a long backseat ride on the way to a family vacation. "Amanita" is the best representation of that childlike parading off into the forest vibe they championed on Spirit They're Gone, Spirit They've Vanished. Portner sings: "What are you gonna do? Go into the forest/ Until I can't remember my name/ I'm gonna come back and things will be different/ I'm gonna bring back some stories and games."

Animal Collective have employed a masterful range of sounds and musical concepts throughout their career. Their albums have focused on everything from gentle campfire acoustic music to sounds fully drenched in electronica, and some albums have even bordered on freak folk. Centipede Hz sounds like a logical progression from Feels and Strawberry Jam, with Merriweather being the true outlier in the band's catalog.

Yet Centipede Hz, which was influenced by CDs of radio station call signs, doesn't live up to some of its predecessors. Some of the ADD pieces, particularly "Monkey Riches," get a bit wearisome  and some of the drone/burnout pieces don't quite hit the right notes. Yet Animal Collective succeed in playing to their key strength. The new album is every bit as endearing and charming as anything they have put out. Though it isn't perfect, it fits in perfectly with the rest of their output.

Score: 82/100

Avey Tare album should tide over fans of AnCo, but not much more.

Genre: Psychedelic/Experimental
Paw Tracks
Running Time: 34:44

2009 was easily the year of Animal Collective. That was the year the avant-garde indie/electronic rockers, to that point fairly obscure, dropped their glittering opus of totally tripped out electronic pop influenced album, Merriweather Post Pavilion, and the rest was history.

The band has spent this year on the sideline, but that hasn't stopped frontman Avey Tare from diving in headfirst with his debut solo album, Down There. Being as Tare is one of the biggest influences on his band's sound, you can expect Down There to offer heavy helpings of the trippiness that makes Animal Collective so unique. The sound you'll hear here is much closer to the signature Animal Collective sound than, say, a Panda Bear album.

The opener, "Laughing Hieroglyphic," features a demented accordion playing over gurgling electronic beats, while Tare's loopy vocal engages you and won't let go. At the same time, there definitely are some departures from Animal Collective. For starters, Avey's disc tends to be much more minimalist in nature than some of AnCo's works.

For those who tried to get into Animal Collective but were turned off by just how over the top it was, you might want to give this one a shot. The relatively subdued nature of the songs means that it's nowhere near as grating as some of Animal Collective's more over the top compositions.

But they also aren't as fascinating, either. Remember how the shimmering wall of synthesizers took your breath away the first time you heard "My Girls?" Or how about the brooding, all over the place vocal melody from "Summertime Clothes?"

Nothing on Down There can come close to the majestic results we get when the foursome of Animal Collective get togehter, but there is a lot here to like. One of the elements that make this album unique is its water theme. Worked into the mix are plenty of dripping, splashing, and tinkling sounds. It's like you're sitting in an underground basement while water leaks out of the pipes, listening to Avey spin his tale.

As far as the vocals go, no one's ever going to accuse Tare of being the greatest singer. But he covers that up a bit by submerging his voice into a myriad of different effects. I swear he's got a new distortion for every song. It gets to be so much that after a while you could start listening to the title track off Radiohead's Kid A album and think it sounds perfectly normal.

Instruments? Well, there's not a whole lot I could make out on this album. It's mainly driven whatever electronic effect Avey's got programmed into the background, thought I wouldn't be surprised if there was a guitar here and there.

Vocal samples also prove to be a considerable part of Tare's repitorie. "Glass Bottom Boat" begins with a guy looking for directions to a cemetery, and a stranger offers to give him a boat ride there. "Oliver Twist" features some guy talking about someone who looked into a rock and saw a skull or something. It's strange, but it fits the mood.

Some of lyrical themes are also pretty out there. "Ghost of Books" is, I'm pretty sure, a song about a guy who wants to make love to a ghost. But there are also some more evolved lyrical themes. "Heather in the Hospital" talks about feelings of depression when a loved one has to go into the hospital, while "Cemeteries" deals with feelings of anger and fear.

Perhps the biggest strength of Down There is its uniqueness. No one can make an album quite like Avey Tare, and you certainly won't hear anything else like this album this year. It comes off as more of an Animal Collective-lite, but if you're a fan you owe it to yourself to check it out. If you've been intrigued by the Collective, but find their sound to be too oppressive, you might find Down There to be a little more palatable.

Score: 70/100