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 David
Portner (Avey Tare) and Noah Lennox (Panda Bear) are the two minds behind 2000's
tremendous Spirit They're Gone, Spirit They've Vanished CD, released through
their own Animal collective. Spirit was a winsome, sparkling debut achievement:
Avey's writing/recording/performing effort was supplemented by Panda's complex
lattices of percussion. On Danse Manatee, their follow-up record, their
sound is augmented by the addition of Brian Weitz (Geologist), a third member
of the collective who began appearing with Avey and Panda at live shows in 1999.
In fact, their live shows seem to be the driving force behind the development
of the material on Danse Manatee. A "live" sound permeates the surface
audio aesthetic here, but the more intriguing development is the music itself:
Geologist contributes live electronics and incidental vocals; Panda is singing
more; the whole thing sounds much more organic, while still keeping the strange
otherworldliness that was found on Spirit They're Gone.... The whole sound
is more fleshed out and looser, though this is not improvised music think
more along the lines of The Music Improvisation Company's late 60's material (with
Panda and Geologist making like Jamie Muir and Hugh Davies, respectively), Can's
“Aumgn,” and early Amon Duul with doses of your classic stream-of-consciousness
pop songwriting a la Incredible String Band and Ray Davies. But there’s a very
modern take on all these influences going on in Danse Manatee, one that
isn’t summed up by their psychedelic forerunners. To paraphrase one review of
their last record (which would only be more appropriate in regards to this new
one), it makes Kid A sound like Britney Spears. Though it’s probably
unfair to single out particular pieces on what’s probably best described as a
song-cycle, two tracks on Danse Manatee could stand up to the entire previous
album in terms of resonance and general scope: “Meet the Light Child” and “Ahhh
Good Country.” The former seems to be a revolving depiction of their newfound
ensemble prowess, an epic celebration of the new Forest Children sound. The latter
(the album’s centerpiece?) is less a song than some sort of strange ceremony unto
itself, sounding much more than the sum of our trio of wood sprites and more like
the whole damn forest (in lucid LSD-Bambi-fire-scene mode), with plunderphonic
patters going in and out of phase, a kind of microcosm of Danse Manatee
itself. Edition of 1000 copies. Hand assembled "matchbox-style" CD slipcases
with four color silkscreened art. | |  

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