Animal Collective - Strawberry Jam

Genre rock Publisher Domino Records External Links Official Animal Collective Website Domino Records

On first listening to "Peacebone", track one on Animal Collective's new release, Strawberry Jam, I must admit I thought my CD player was broken. The digital audio-gobbledygook shrieking from the speakers reached near eardrum-piercing levels. Sparsely sprinkled throughout the cacophony, words sped up so fast as to become almost incomprehensible hinted that this hodgepodge of auditory offense was, in fact, intentional.

Upon further listening, the chaos gradually separates out into rhythm, some sort of manic march, eventually evolving into melody. The whole experience is a little maddening, a little intriguing; a virtual aural acid trip.

Fans of Animal Collective will revel in the spirited amalgam of songs on Strawberry Jam. For the uninitiated, the experience can range from challenging to infuriating, and is not necessarily for the faint of heart or impatient. Acolytes and intrepid newbies will be rewarded for their efforts as the record improves on multiple listens. Clarity slowly emerges from dense layers of rhythm, convention-defying melodies, and nearly indecipherable lyrics.

One has to work to extract lyrical content, as sonic experimentation sometimes seems to eclipse meaning. But delving into the cornucopia of words yields imagery not unlike that of the cover art, as the smashed-berry visual marries notions of the iconic summer treat with rotting, violence, and repulsion. "From sugar teas to honey best," to "the milk on my tongue," nothing is as sweet as it seems. Even "The other side of takeout/Is mildew on rice"

This propensity to see appeal and aversion as two sides of the same coin weaves throughout the album. The juxtaposition of the rollicking musical flights of fancy clashes with jangly discord and screams in "For Reverend Green," The insidious "Unsolved Mysteries" melts almost seamlessly from the innocence of a carousel calliope to something sinister.

Far from a passive experience, listening to Strawberry Jam at times seems arduous, but the work is richly rewarded. Whether the payoff is enough to justify the challenge and investment may be up to an individual's taste.

"Chores" starts out a psychedelic mix of Beach Boys meets They Might Be Giants, evolving into a slow-mo exploration of both sound and semantic integrity. Like the games we played when we were young, or later when we were studying philosophy or stoned, how many times can you say a word, or how slowly can you say it, before it starts to lose its meaning?

"Cuckoo Cuckoo" at times seems designed to incense the listener, pushing and pulling in all directions, hitting with in-your-face dissonance one minute and then beaconing you back with come-hither melodic enticement the next. The end result is disturbing, enlightening, almost blistering.

"Derek," seems by comparison a soothing balm to cool the sting of "Cuckoo Cuckoo." As the album closes, there's almost a sense of relief, leaving the listener satiated and spent. There is much to love in this album, and much about which to be enraged, but as with strawberries themselves, the verdict depends of the taster's palate.