Well-known as an integral component in the sonic equation of Animal Collective, it’s also no secret that Noah Lennox has amassed an impressive solo discography under the name Panda Bear. His fifth solo full-length emerged in January and garnered widespread positive response, but the accolades haven’t been as strong for the five-song follow-up. If smaller of scale and lesser of impact, the music is still a largely worthwhile experience; more than just a prerequisite for committed fans, its unruffled nature could easily recruit some new ones. Out digitally since August, the “Crosswords” EP hits vinyl and compact disc on November 13 through Domino.
Seven inches, ten inches or a foot long; no matter the diameter there exists a substantial shelf-load of Extended Play records with quality ranging from solid (Big Black’s “Headache”) to outstanding (The Troggs’ “Trogg Tops Vol. 1”) to downright masterful (Buzzcocks’ “Spiral Scratch,” Mission of Burma’s “Signals, Calls, and Marches,” The Clean’s “Boodle, Boodle, Boodle”).
However, as the 1960s evaporated in the rear-view mirror the EP format was persistently employed by myriad acts (or more accurately the labels that signed them) as a depository for leftovers or stray material. Additionally, it was utilized as a reward for the faithful and as a vessel ramping up anticipation between proper full-lengths.
That’s not a dismissal. Far from it; the unfussed over EP has frequently held a quiet appeal, a lack of ceremony frankly refreshing in this era where an extremely high number of releases get encompassed in a miasma of hubbub. For those hooked on such commotion, “Crosswords” can seem a bit anticlimactic after the attention paid to Panda Bear Meets the Grim Reaper earlier in 2015.
In this case the spotlight wasn’t undeserved; the multi-instrumentalist and founding member of Animal Collective’s latest solo LP has shaped up as one of the year’s better releases and arguably his finest since ‘07’s Person Pitch. That’s not to suggest ‘11’s Tomboy was a disappointment; to the contrary, for an artist wielding such an experimental temperament Panda Bear has been remarkably consistent; it’s a characteristic carrying over from Animal Collective.
2004’s Young Prayer is a more out-folky kettle of fish, but it still has its charms and by this point it’s likely been absorbed by nearly all the intense Collective/Panda heads out there. His ’99 debut predates Animal Collective and has basically been cast aside by Lennox; this doesn’t mean the heavy-duty partisans haven’t soaked it up, for Panda Bear is freely available on YouTube.
But ’99 was a long time back. All the expected Panda Bear elements are present and accounted for on “Crosswords”; the vocal lilt of progressive-era Beach Boys, the traces of Beatles-esque psych, the tactics and maneuvers borrowed from dub and other production-centric styles (‘90s hip-hop is a stated influence that interestingly doesn’t explicitly shine through here), the sonic threads derived from the Mothership Collective (of course), and by extension and perhaps most important to this rather low-stakes release, the not-unfamiliar atmospheres of sincere left-field pop.
Opening with a fresh version of a Grim Reaper cut is maybe not the way to satisfy stringent expectations, but it’s a par for the course procedure in the realms of dance music, and “Crosswords (EP Mix)” ain’t at all far from torso-gyrating environs. Perceptibly though not radically different from the LP source, the convivial aura of Lennox’s voice remains a constant and persists in reminding me of Squeeze of all things.
New track “No Mans Land” opens like a hyper Talking Heads circa ’81 under the influence of dub-tinged electro, and it’s a fine example of Panda Bear’s increasingly deft blending of accessible and edgy aural currents, indeed so deft that it can seem kinda effortless; by the mid-way point the sunshiny Brother Records ambiance is in full-effect.
Also new, “Jabberwocky” flaunts wicked if essentially straightforward beat-swagger encompassed by surges, pulsations, swirling audio-chatter, and a stretched out running-time. While it’s tempting to say this Panda’s cruising on autopilot, the level of engagement is actually pretty high as he sings up a storm. Peter Kember a.k.a. Sonic Boom (ex-Spacemen 3) produced Grim Reaper, and his skills remain in the pocket on these selections.
The Spectrum/Experimental Audio Research leader also assisted in the recording of Tomboy, and “The Preakness” is a bonus cut from those sessions originally sequenced on that release’s expanded 4LP box. Its soaring seamlessness connecting as “Crosswords” highlight will perhaps register as a backhanded compliment, but conversely, the choice to revisit this highly soulful (and shrewdly Reich/Glass-descended) excursion ultimately feels like a wise decision (previously only found on the rather costly vinyl set, “The Preakness” makes its CD/digital debut here).
Shorn of the samples that apparently included Ladysmith Black Mambazo, the South African vibrations are only intensified (streamlined, in reality) during the remodeling now titled “Cosplay”; combined with enthusiastic refrains of the lyric “marijuana makes my day,” the laidback disposition is rather, shall we say, blunt.
Compared to the earlier version that’s still hanging out on YouTube, the piece has taken a decided turn for the lesser; formerly inspiring thoughts of wading neck-deep into a river of unusually delicious cough syrup that’s been reduced to molasses-like thickness, this update is kinda like staring at a billboard-sized photograph of Rhymin’ Simon around 1986.
Lesser but not necessarily a glaring flaw; it does introduce a bit of humor to a recipe that if not stone-faced is also far from a laugh riot. Last autumn’s “Mr. Noah” EP was about the raising of expectations, and Panda Bear Meets the Grim Reaper followed through very nicely. The extra helping provided by “Crosswords” is unlikely to trigger any flipped wigs, but it goes down easy and casually underlines the maturation of Noah Lennox’s artistry.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
B+
