Of Monsters And Men
My Head Is An Animal

In almost every case, my musical approach is little more than pure and simple immediate chemical instinct: it takes very little for me to "frame" an artist, an album, or a genre in my personal perspective, to determine if I'm interested or not, if it's love, hate or if it bounces off me. As debatable as it may be, it's a personal characteristic that has served me very well, allowing me to freely develop my own stylistic measure, and there are very few cases where I haven't formulated a clear judgment in a short time; this is one of the rare examples.

Curiously, I became aware of these Of Monsters And Men thanks to my beloved nine-year-old niece, who, knowing my tendencies as a music connoisseur, made me listen to a couple of songs she learned in a dance class. The first is "Pompeii" by Bastille, which I'd rather elegantly skip over, the second is "King And Lionheart": a black and white music video with fairy-tale and spectacular atmospheres, a simple, light yet intense melody with folkish nuances, truly very beautiful, and that was enough to pique my curiosity.

So, I set out to learn more about this sextet: "great, finally I can also review something Icelandic; Iceland always sounds cool, maybe I'll even throw in a couple of catchy phrases about geysers, landscapes, the fire and ice encounter/clash" was my first thought, quickly set aside after the far from simple and linear path that led me, after a month and a half of re-readings, erasures, changes of mood, and form, to this writing, but now "alea iacta est," solving the "My Head Is An Animal" enigma had become an intriguing challenge. The initial listens definitively dispel my greatest fear, namely that of facing an album composed almost entirely of tunes characterized by a vacuous emotional and creative stagflation. No, Of Monsters And Men are lively, colorful, in touch with the earth, with pop(ular) sensitivity, with folk roots. "Dirty Paws", the album's opener, seems to tell me "listen here, shut up and listen, and while you're at it, shove those geysers where the sun doesn't shine." A semi-acoustic ballad with an emotional crescendo, very visionary, very suggestive, that reminds me of early Joni Mitchell, partly because of Nanna Hilmarsdóttir's velvety but slightly restless and enigmatic voice, the group's female vocalist. When they hit the right song, OMAM are capable of beautiful, truly beautiful things; they are capable of conveying emotions and moods in music with great naturalness, spontaneity, and a refined touch, for instance, "Little Talks", with its brass band and the perfect intertwining of male and female voices, manages to convey an undefined sensation halfway between cheerfulness and reflection, certainly leaving no one indifferent, just like the freshness and liveliness of a pop rock like "Mountain Sound", enriched by a great work of choirs and backing vocals, or the surprising turn towards western atmospheres of "Your Bones", with a great rhythmic section and an epic breath of Morriconian mold.

In short, the expressive potential and talent are truly extraordinary; it's a real shame that the "magnetism" isn't so constant and intense throughout the album; there are too many slow songs, and with the exception of the episodes already mentioned and the excellent "From Finner" with its irregular waltz pace, dreamy yet energetic and communicative, the rest shows evident signs of that emotional stagflation I mentioned: "Slow And Steady" for example, even though well done melodically but lacking personality, missing the communication and imagery evoked by the best episodes, "Love Love Love" with its repetitive, ugly, and a bit depressing refrain, a "Sloom" that never takes off, crumpling on a limping acoustic arpeggio, or "Yellow Light" which closes the discussion with an inconsistent delicacy, a sleepy lullaby and an uninspiring stereotype of ethereal Icelandic indie-folk.

In any case, OMAM have earned my respect for managing to put me in such difficulty, and also my attention: who knows how they will evolve, whether they will evaporate in a geyser of ethereal indie mannerism, or, I sincerely hope, their more extravagant and vital side will prevail. "My Head Is An Animal" fascinates with the intertwining of voices, the care and richness of sounds (of the best episodes), with a beautiful, captivating and well-conceived visual imagery, what is missing is certainly a bit of Mediterranean warmth, and a touch of passion; the combination of naturalistic/fairy-tale themes and introspection in the long run becomes a bit heavy, this album demonstrates it clearly, you can't do without a little 'corazon', that little spark of mischief and vitality, of heterogeneity that can make the difference. Will Of Monsters And Meh, as I've affectionately nicknamed them, be able to realize this and take that leap in quality that could truly bring them closer to my sphere of attention?