MGMT
Oracular Spectacular

THE REVIEW

Coming from Brooklyn and probably born out of the friendship between the two freaky high schoolers in question, MGMT or Management are the brilliant discovery of this year's start, all in the name of beautiful music. The two charming boys from Connecticut present us with a sort of "sophisticated toy" pop, a "lego" to assemble and disassemble. Yes, a toy pop, because Ben Goldwasser and Andrew VanWyngarden offer us fun that is never banal and never too predictable. A perfect assembly of music and colors: from psychedelia and mysticism that are not too hard to digest, to pleasant eighties-style electro pop. A straightforward pop, never predictable. And loads of fun, a desire to outdo themselves in just 10 tracks.

This is how this smiling work of the two boys presents itself to our eyes. "Oracular Spectacular" is not entirely a new experiment. Behind the tracks floats the mind of Dave Fridmann, mentor and producer of the mad scientists' lab (now fully enjoying life) Flaming Lips. And how can one not mention the figure of a David Bowie and, for the ballads and acoustic interludes, Neil Young? And if you add a touch of Mercury Rev psychedelia and the more seasoned nineties alternative indie (Pavement, to name one)?

A mess, you might say. But let's move on.

The carefree riff of the optigan introducing "Time to Pretend" already injects us into the dreamiest of worlds. It could be identified as a huge canvas where a Lipsian background is subjected to brushstrokes of David Bowie and smudged with the most sincere alternative of Pavement. It ends in a somewhat shameless crescendo (ye, ye, yeah), but remains one of the best musical moments of this 2008. After this orgy among the most distant genres comes the pop ballad of "Weekend Wars", which sounds more rock, with VanWyngarden's voice recalling the Rolling Stones, and then the even more melodic (complete with violin) "The Youth", which does not particularly stand out (perhaps lacking originality, finding itself amid more bizarre concoctions). Speaking of concoctions, here comes another even more pretentious. "Electric Feel" is an infusion of eighties disco vaguely techno, with a bit of Prince and a bit of Abba (them too) and a glam touch. And as if that weren't enough, more dance arrives. "Kids" truly feels like a children's party, as suggested by the intro of childish screams, with that aged video game background and the perpetual optigan serving as the track's riff. Toward the end, one also notices a homage to the overly famous "Jump" by Van Halen. A smart producer wouldn't hesitate to send it to the top of the charts. But Dave Fridmann is not that kind; after all, you wouldn't expect such a thing from the producer of strokes of genius like "Zaireeka" or "Deserter's Song", pearls never captured by the mainstream panorama (thank goodness). Fortunately, the single was released only in a part of America, not ruining the talented young freaks.

Let's return to the album. If the first part was danceable and straightforward, the second part is a mystical wave of more or less melodic music that opens with "4th Dimensional Transition", a dream pop with a psychedelic scent, between Yo La Tengo and Mercury Rev, perhaps the most successful track. A beautiful sound landscape rendered at its best by the choral of Goldwasser and VanWyngarden and enclosed in gentle acoustic chords. It is followed by "Pieces of What", a pleasant ballad that takes Neil Young as a reference point and once again the eclectic Kaplan. "Of Moons, Birds & Monsters" is a pop ride with a rock'n roll flavor, ending in a dream. The dreamy atmosphere is even more felt in "The Handshake", a collage of pop, psychedelia, electronics and David Bowie, which dissolves into a chorus and a slight whistle. The picture is closed by "Future Reflection", an instrumental track that ranges from New Wave, electronics, and trance (Plastikman) to Goldwasser's falsetto, wrapping it all with a catchy glam pop.

I was thrilled by these 10 playful and not simple tracks, overly experimental but never un-listenable. A toy pop. A toy, indeed. A ten thousand piece puzzle.