 have followed up with a companion EP that expands and extends on their sound while still maintaining an experimental element.

It is impossible to talk about anything Animal Collective has done without mentioning their past works; partly because they have put out some of the most colorful experiments in sound over the past 17 years, and partly because each project they work on has a distinct feel to it. That being said, I will try to limit the sentiments of looking back at the band’s older, syrupy albums and EPs.

“Kinda Bonkers” is the first song on 

, and opens with a breathing, living gush of congas and vocals. The stripped-down opening of the song with only two elements adds to the ancestral air of the first eighteen seconds of the album, but the clarity is short-lived, and sharply evolves into a jam, both musically and lyrically. The stanzas are loose, hinting at a deep connotation, but never really diving down into the depths of human experience. With the Earth becoming a stranger animal every day, sometimes all there is to say about it is that it’s pretty bonkers.

The second cut on the four song project is what sets it apart from 2016’s 

. “Peacemaker” lays you down for three minutes and lets you drink in the music. The disjunction of each word, akin to Panda Bear’s unintelligible lyrical style, lends itself to getting lost in the music, and does not seem forced like it does in some 

 songs (re: the heart attack that is Natural Selection). From time to time lyrics can be parsed through, fragments such as “got so strange… comes up to show… let it in… something stirs within the maze, an image rests upon… the heat of anger… is this impulse from feelings…” give the cosmic confusion some direction. This song is the reason I have listened to the EP seven or eight times since release; it worms its way through the space it is in, dangling what sounds like chimes, bells or harps just out of recognition. But this track is far from an ethereal atmosphere, with a soft and simple beat that runs through it like blood. On top of these elements is Noah’s vocal orchestration, which as I mentioned before is tumultuous and surreal, but one aspect that adds to the complex color palate of “Peacemaker” is the childlike oohs and aahs (think “Leaf House” from 

The EP wakes up after “Pacemaker” and hurls the listener into one of the most puzzling tracks the group has put up to date. “Goalkeeper” is the brainchild of Geologist, who has been hinting at this song for the better part of the past year, and seems to be about a goalie… or a metaphor for a goalie… it sounds cool though, certainly a fun song If you are not tired of the slap-bass type synth used over and over in 

 ends with the most puzzling tracks the group has put up to date, A cover of Martha Reeves & the Vandella’s Motown Gordy lick, “Jimmy Mack”. The space-age intro to this song is one of the highlights of the EP, which is, again, followed with an abrupt transition turning into a messy up tempo refrain that seems to be made for live performances. The cover is the longest track of 

, but sends the project off with a colorful bang.

Animal Collective releases “The Painters” EP

The opening act, Lucy Dacus, takes the stage alone, illuminated by soft blue lighting. Without any introduction she sings “The first time I tasted somebody else’s spit, I had a coughing fit,” which elicits a few scattered chuckles amongst the growing crowd. The lighthearted opening line leads to a somber, personal ode to past loves, accompanied only by bare guitar chords and misty cerulean lighting. The song crawls to an end and Lucy reveals that she had wrote it just two minutes ago.

The band comes on stage for the rest of the show, concealing the soft spoken, bleeding-heart vocalist– transforming her musical identity all together under a bath of noise. As the set bangs forward it is clear that this act is at their best when less is going on: one song with only brush-sticks playing rock drums, heavy and stripped back grooves to break the monotony. Overall, I was not too impressed by the sonic image of the band other than the ballad-esque lyrics and Ms. Ducas’s voice until the final song, “Pillar of Truth”. The closing song starts slow, almost painfully minimal and grows into a hymn of noise, transforming and oscillating between the two poles of energy that the band has showcased over the course of the night.

Car Seat Headrest’s burgeoning fame has drawn a diverse range of music lovers across several generations and many walks of life; a sold out show on a Saturday evening. And the roar of the throng reflects the mass of it all as Will Toledo and his band takes the stage. Will’s voice rings out in a dark solo “I’ve been listening to the pain…” the young musician hums among other sentiments to what seems like whatever strife is on his heart. The silence of the awestruck crowd hearing new words from the lonely poet is broken as a familiar drum beat rings out of the loud speakers: Ending of Dramamine. For the next two minutes it really is the epic narrative of finding meaning in the ephemerality of feelings, but the opening riff is soon interrupted by an energetic swell of sound from all four of the instruments– which is again interrupted by the opening chord progression of “Fill in The Blank” along with roars from the multitude of onlookers. Almost every word is belted by the audience, and the communal atmosphere of the night is established, each and every different soul here for one artist. This feeling of community is strengthened as (Joe Gets Kicked Out of School for Using) Drugs… concludes with the repetition of “Drugs are better with Friends are better with Drugs…” sung out by the spectators along with the band. The song ends and the band tunes their instruments as the drummer, Andrew, fills time with fan-mail questions. Over the course of the three tuning interludes, Will reveals that he has indeed signed a car seat headrest in Nashville TN, would rather be a rapper than a metal singer, and recommends the book referenced in The Ballad of Costa Concordia: “Denial of Death” By Ernest Becker.

Among the set list, which spans from 2011’s Twin Fantasy to Teens of Denial, are a few covers. The first covered song comes immediately after the first Q&A segment, and Will’s fetish to play David Bowie songs rears its lovely head: Blackstar. The morbid themes explored on this track don’t seem to clash with the general feel of the night as the complexity felt in the air is only strengthened by the cover. There is never a dull moment as the show rambles on, from Will’s abandonment of the falsetto on Drunk Drivers to the visceral scream let out by Ethan at the end of Unforgiving Girl. Falling alongside Vampire Weekend and Easy Star All-Stars as bands who have covered Radiohead’s Exit Music well, Car Seat closes their set with their take on the 1997 tune, which reminds the attendees to “keep breathing, don’t lose your love.” (changed from “…don’t lose your nerve.”).

Even after the encore, which was as much of a blast from the past (Sober to Death) as a celebration of new material (Connect the Dots), the crowd lingered and chanted for more songs for a few minutes after the house lights came on.

Review by: Ryan Gottlieb
Photos by: Miranda Viskatis

Car Seat Headrest and Lucy Dacus @ The Sinclair

After three nights of live music and a most unfortunate series of events leading to me walking into Paradise thirty minutes before Danny Brown walked on stage, I was ready for this experience to be as cathartic as possible. The pop-rap which was playing obtrusively from the speakers halts, and is replaced with the huge grimy sound of the Intro to The Atrocity Exhibit. The man of the hour walks out in a leather vest which covers a Frank Zappa T-shirt, as the vibrations of Die Like a Rockstar (but not of pancreatic cancer) rattle the floor at my feet. While the venue was filled to the brim with musty rap-energy, this show was far from a basic rap performance. This detail highlighted by atmospheric interludes, and the fact that the hype-man actually added to the tracks in a musically constructive manner. The second song of the evening comes to a close, and Danny speaks his first of two non-rapping words, “Hi Everyone, my name is Daniel” Brown says through a smile in his characteristic goofy tenor. Then right into I Will, which serves to further increase the gap between Danny Brown and most rappers, as the song is entirely about giving oral favors to women of all pussy-types.

The night follows the discography of the thirty-five year old rapper, from the hits off XXX to the hits off Old to a few singles off Atrocity Exhibit set to release this Friday.

As Mr. Brown gets into the back half of the set, we are all sweaty beasts as accounted for by the condensation dripping from the ventilation system. A few ‘slow’ songs allow for the crowd to recoup as the old rapper raps about how his mom would get money for dinner on 25 Bucks, his convoluted relationship with fame on Float On, and how bad he wanted that fame as a kid on Grown Up. Then after a quick blurb about the tour, he asks the crowd if they would be interested in hearing some new songs to a resounding roar. The choruses of the new songs, Really, When It Rains, Dance in the Water, and Pneumonia, are quieter without fans rapping alongside Dan, but the energy of the old guy never stops for the length of the encore-less set.

Danny Brown @ Paradise Rock Club

Frank Ocean and his connections to popular media have really garnered some attention over the past week with his drawn out release of his latest album, “Blonde”. It seems the world’s eyes are turned to Ocean (at least mine are), and the man seems to bring new and exciting things to the proverbial table.

In Ocean’s “Boys Don’t Cry” ‘zine (short for magazine), Kanye West reveals a poem heavily drawn from corporate inspirations. The delicate edge between the duality of comfort and evil, played with and imagined within the fries of McDonald’s, yes, McDonald’s. Mr. West’s genius is not only subtly entwined within this three stanza poem, but it bursts out of the seams as the true nature of McDonald’s fries gets examined.

The end of the poem points to maybe the most crucial metaphor of the piece, perhaps suggesting the more innovative, smooth, and stoic side of Kanye, or even of the musical world. That is to say, a world in which raw creative power is more valued than money, or influence. The apple pie.
Read Kanye West’s “McDonald’s Man” 