The Animal Collective: Exciting Audience With a New Brand of Folk
Rachel De Pante
Issue date: 4/5/06 Section: Arts & Entertainment
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Animal Collective, an electronic folk quartet from Brooklyn, is thrilling live, as they are fervently dedicated to putting enormous amounts of energy into each of their songs.
The group is an odd bunch. Besides the sometimes masked, sometimes painted faces, there is the experimental music. Their albums create the sense that someone has taken a pretty pop song, smashed it into pieces and then put the pieces back together in all of the wrong places.
Whether it is a harmonic pop ballad, a rough rhythmic chant, or a fury of noise, the band is passionate about everything it does. Fronted by Avey Tare, the Animals performed in a style all of their own to a sold-out show at the Bowery Ballroom this past weekend.
Tare was backed by his three close comrades: Panda Bear on drums, Geologist, wearing what appeared to be a miner's head lamp, on various audio machines and Deakin, playing guitar along with Tare. Geologist and Panda Bear were stationed somewhat in the center of the stage with Tare and Deakin on either side of them.
Tare rarely remained on his side of the stage, taking breaks to throw down his guitar, pick up a drumstick and join Panda Bear on percussion or just go crazy and have fun onstage.
Deakin also made good use of the room he was given as he jumped, danced, shouted and sang.
Although rather confined by the immobility of his equipment, Geologist was no spectator to his band mates, taking part in dancing, drumming and thrashing around his unkempt curls.
The show started on somewhat of a softer note with "Good Lovin Outside" from the 2004 release "Sung Tongs," but quickly picked up tempo. Scraping noise and sweetly sung melodies came tumbling out over the crowd.
Several times during the show, the band members themselves seemed to be overwhelmed by the performance. Tare would tire of his guitar and decide to play a cymbal instead. Deakin's low moans would turn into loud impassioned yells.
The time added to each song for these impromptu dance parties was usually at least a few minutes. In "Daffy Duck," one of the livelier songs off of their latest album "Feels," the recorded seven minutes was stretched to well over 12 minutes.
The group is an odd bunch. Besides the sometimes masked, sometimes painted faces, there is the experimental music. Their albums create the sense that someone has taken a pretty pop song, smashed it into pieces and then put the pieces back together in all of the wrong places.
Whether it is a harmonic pop ballad, a rough rhythmic chant, or a fury of noise, the band is passionate about everything it does. Fronted by Avey Tare, the Animals performed in a style all of their own to a sold-out show at the Bowery Ballroom this past weekend.
Tare was backed by his three close comrades: Panda Bear on drums, Geologist, wearing what appeared to be a miner's head lamp, on various audio machines and Deakin, playing guitar along with Tare. Geologist and Panda Bear were stationed somewhat in the center of the stage with Tare and Deakin on either side of them.
Tare rarely remained on his side of the stage, taking breaks to throw down his guitar, pick up a drumstick and join Panda Bear on percussion or just go crazy and have fun onstage.
Deakin also made good use of the room he was given as he jumped, danced, shouted and sang.
Although rather confined by the immobility of his equipment, Geologist was no spectator to his band mates, taking part in dancing, drumming and thrashing around his unkempt curls.
The show started on somewhat of a softer note with "Good Lovin Outside" from the 2004 release "Sung Tongs," but quickly picked up tempo. Scraping noise and sweetly sung melodies came tumbling out over the crowd.
Several times during the show, the band members themselves seemed to be overwhelmed by the performance. Tare would tire of his guitar and decide to play a cymbal instead. Deakin's low moans would turn into loud impassioned yells.
The time added to each song for these impromptu dance parties was usually at least a few minutes. In "Daffy Duck," one of the livelier songs off of their latest album "Feels," the recorded seven minutes was stretched to well over 12 minutes.