The audience might not have been as bored as Animal Collective looked, but our Reverb reviewer certainly was. Photos by .
Did suck because we’re all just jaded?
This question hung in the warm air of the minivan as I drove a load of friends down Highway 36, headed back to Denver after quickly escaping from the East Coast trio’s show on Tuesday night at the .
Stories of cathartic, life-changing experiences with bands of a similar sonic design bounced off the foam and fabric walls of the vehicle, saturating memories of Gang Gang Dance, Sonic youth, Presets and Ponytail shows resurfacing as we searched to understand what felt so wrong with Animal Collective’s performance.
Openers were riding the right wave though, their bone-charring 45-minute bombardment of light and wretchedly glorious sound pummeling every little round face in the crowd. Surrounded by a tribal summer camp’s worth of teenage Animal Collective fans dotted with war paint tributes and hobby store-bought feathers, I put my earplugs in place, closed my eyes and relished in Black Dice’s terrorizing glory.
It wasn’t that Animal Collective’s performance was absolutely horrible; it was just too one-dimensional for the expectation held in a band whose recorded layers can go on forever. Opening with “In the Flowers,” the song signaled what was to come for the evening, a set sinking nicely into the band’s last two efforts, “Strawberry Jam” and “Merriweather Post Pavilion.”
Vocalist and guitarist Avey Tare had his shaking and jerking moments, but bandmate Panda Bear’s howling felt contrived as he peered out from behind a box-lit table of equipment. His disinterested and almost diva stance became clear with each smooth breath, preachy songs like “Slippi” and “The Girls” coming across in a mildy self-absorbed manner.
The friendly trip-ups of “Fireworks,” were lost in a sea of blandish noise, Animal Collective stretching the echoing song to the point of being unrecognizable for several minutes. The band heaved “No More Runnin’“ out into the stale air and a giant white sphere floating above the stage caught some faint and uninspired projections, and I waited for it to fall into the crowd and give us something tangible to hold.
An encore spilled out after some prodding from the audience, Tare and Bear hurling out the vanilla vocal washes of “Banshee Beat” and “Bearhug” to end the show with a deflated close.
Perception is everything and I’m sure Animal Collective’s set was awesome and intense to some. But I have reason to believe my bad trip was more about the unfulfilled prospect of a surreal spiritual experience and less about being jaded. Thank you, Animal Collective, for showing me that maybe I should just lower my expectations.
Bree Davies plays bass in , writes about her obsessions with Iggy Pop and Lil’ Wayne in and repeatedly fakes her own death at . She is also a self-proclaimed addict.
Julio Enriquez is a Denver writer and photographer, editor of the blog and a regular contributor to Reverb.
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