By now, it's become commonplace to refer to Animal Collective as the Grateful Dead of the indie music scene. Why?
- The musicians perform their songs loosely in concert, often choosing to find their way through electronic and rhythmic improvisations as musical transitions.
- Band members Avey Tare and Geologist recently cited the band as a shared influence when they first met because of their interest in improvisation as 9th graders.
- They are now using a Dead sample in oneof their songs.
- Their live shows push an absurd amount of neon psychedelia (see above).
- It seems that many of their die-hard fans have adopted a counterculture-like style of fashion (face paint, rags), which, as in the case of the Dead, risks becoming a parody of itself as it increases in popularity. (A little editorializing there.)
If I sound cynical, please note that I am trying my best to be evenhanded. This Friday's performance at the Pitchfork Music Festival here in Chicago marked my first time seeing the band live, and, in some ways, I was impressed. I enjoyed listening intently to hear how those beeps, glitches, and howls would transform into songs. I think there is a lot to be said for a band that risks finding its way, musically speaking, in front of a live audience. But my respect for that kind of integrity reaches a point and then stops.
I've come to believe strongly in this basic principle: if you are a rock band, you need to deliver songs. Many excellent songs. Whether in the studio or in concert, the songs are where the focus should be. Observing the audience during AC's musical transitions, I noticed that many fans would either lapse into conversation or take a toke and wig out dancing. Both are signs of musical boredom that I recognize from every jamband concert I have been to. And, believe me, I've been to more than I care to recount. The best moments in AC's set were the songs. But there were too few of them.
It's a bit ironic that the band that took to the Green Stage before Animal Collective was Guided by Voices, guys who have made their name simply playing the hits. Upon taking the stage, Robert Pollard asked the audience (paraphrasing here) if we were "ready for some quality, authentic, rock and roll music?!" The band proceeded to blast drunkenly through 15 to 20 strangely anthemic tunes, the best of their career, and then left as quickly as they had appeared. And how, you ask, did Pollard transition between songs? Song title, dose of tequila, count-off, go. That's rock and roll.
