Animal Collective
Spirit They're Gone, Spirit They've Vanished

THE REVIEW

Spirit They're Gone, Spirit They've Vanished.

The saga of Animal Collective begins right here. A psychedelic revival of rare beauty and effectiveness, the perfect bridge between the psychedelia of yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Beach Boys, Barrett, Flaming Lips are the recognizable influences, mixed together from which the Collective draws in search of the perfect journey, the ultimate cerebral experience. Avey Tare (David Portner) and Panda Bear (Noah Lennox) are the minds behind the project, guys from Baltimore who conceived the first signs of their art amidst the provincial woods: anarchy, primitivism, LSD. Truckloads and truckloads of LSD, a defining feature of a distinct freak attitude personified with infinite class and calm nostalgia, which the duo will never renounce and which will characterize their rise over the years.

The album is a complex and eccentric manifesto of their art. A folk-electronic with psychedelic shades where experimentation is continuous and constant, it does not fear becoming dominant and overshadowing the melody. Electronic reverberations set the stage for the first track, "Spirit They've Vanished," a long and tormented hypnotic whistle that marks the beginning of the journey, the path in search of our most hidden self. In "April And The Phantom," bolstered by an elegant electronic cadence and agitated tribalism, the playful spirit, anchored in an eternal desire for youth, materializes, not caring about the relentless passage of time but mocking it. There's the maddened music box of "Penny Dreadfuls," the touching "Chocolate Girl," a long and engaging piano elegy by Avey Tare, and the best of the bunch, "Everyone Whistling," eight minutes of rhythmic crescendo, touched by a magical and unreal atmosphere. Pure ecstasy, awakening of the senses, well-being, an awareness of ourselves in a fantastic world in which we dream of identifying. The charm of innocence. Innocence that is not naivety, but is innocence aware of being such. Innocence that looks beyond the present, guides us to shores never seen before, dominates our imagination, colors the world. "Bat You'll Fly" is a celebration of emotions. The guests are not just any guests. At the party, gnomes, fairies, and elves participate, celebrating in their fantastic world the momentary detachment from ours. A completely new dimension. We fully understand it when "Someday I'll Grow To Be As Tall As The Giant" begins, the ultimate psychic and temporal detachment. Bells, space sounds, annoying little voices. Definitive abandonment.

The last track, untitled, is a long tour de force that slowly brings us back to life, the one we know for sure will never be the same as we remembered. Our journey is over, but for Animal Collective, it's likely never to end.