Tin Speaker

Again with the Animal Collective. I’ve had quite enough by now, thanks.

But by insistent readership is … insistent. And, even though this was my third time in nine months seeing the collected animals, the old Web log has not really been saturated with related news. In any event, the review — here she be.

The Good King was particularly excited about this show, I’ll have you know. And when the Good King is excited about something, you just have to go along for the ride. And it is a ride and a half, let me tell you. Wait! I am telling you! You are letting me! That is one of the primary purposes of this Web log.

After the sweaty casserole of a Ratatat concert on 21 April my hopes for this show were somewhat dimmed, given its unfortunate location. The Fifth Terminal is a place of deep despair and dashed dreams, muddled sound and throttled hope. I imagined the veteran performers of Animal Collective would overcome the weaknesses of the venue, but I feared the worst for Liz Harris (nom de guerre Grouper). And, yeah, it was a pretty disappointing performance. I enjoy Grouper’s recorded output immensely, and after her show with High Places at the New Museum sold out (I even went to the museum before the show to try to get tickets! Dedication! (or the stuff of dreams)) I was extremely pleased to read that she had been added as the opener to this show. Then I realized that unless I got to the venue right when doors opened there was little chance of my really enjoying the show.

She sat way back on the stage, behind the tables (covered in sheets that draped to the floor) behind which the current incarnation of Animal Collective would eventually work their sundry samplers and other trinkets. These tables unfortunately prevented my catching any sort of glimpse of Ms Harris, so I was left to strain my valiant ears to conjure from the dreamy, foggy, reverb’d out guitar and vocals an image of her, stoic and serene at the center of the stage, whispering into tape loops, feet pushing pedals like she was driving an M5. Of course, there were literally thousands of people around me, milling and buzzing and generally indulging in the fervent chatter that precedes a show that sold out a 3000-capacity venue in about twelve minutes. So, Grouper was little more than ethereal background music, but that’s all right. I don’t think she’s that famous yet, so I should be able to catch her at a decent venue eventually.

At this point, I should mention the masks.

The Good King, you see, is a figure of extraordinary fame, and so he often finds it necessary to conceal his regal identity when he ventures out beyond the castle walls. For this evening, he chose a most splendid and sensible disguise — a goat mask. As a loyal subject, I of course acquired my own animal mask, in solidarity with the Good King. My chosen creature? The sheep, of course. Brave, beautiful, and bodacious, the sheep is perhaps the most elegant of all God’s creatures, and I was honored to wear its likeness over my own inferior visage.

Duly prepared with my fauna façade, I was ready for the sampler storm to follow.

I must say, I actually enjoyed this show quite a lot. Although the sound was predictably mushy and indelicate, I was able to find comfort in the redeeming power of volume. And it was certainly loud enough. The aforementioned sheets that covered Panda Bear’s and Geologist’s (I feel kind of silly to be writing or even thinking about how important people who call themselves “Panda Bear” and “Geologist” are to music, but if those are the names they like, who am I to judge? Hornblower, that’s who! Hmmm. Point taken.) sampler tables were a new addition to the live setup since I saw them at the Bowery Ballroom in January, and I suppose they were a nice little tweak. The light situation was pretty exciting (which is kind of necessary due to the minimal presence of live instruments), though I rather missed the ridiculously bright lights that nearly blinded me during the “AHHHHHHHH” parts of Also Frightened at Bowery. Speaking of Also Frightened, I was hoping they’d play In The Flowers instead of it, but they didn’t, the bums.

In other setlist-related news, I was hoping to hear Who Could Win A Rabbit? after reading that they played it earlier in the week at Ottobar in Baltimore, but, alas, it was not to be. Instead, the old tracks for this go-round included Chocolate Girl (from début LP Spirit They’re Gone, Spirit They’ve Vanished), Slippi (Here Comes The Indian), and the infectious Leaf House (Sung Tongs) — fine selections, all.

Here’s the rest of the set list:

Chocolate Girl
My Girls
Also Frightened
Summertime Clothes
Slippi
What Would I Want Sky
Guys Eyes
Comfy in Nautica
Fireworks
Leaf House

Bleed
Lion In A Coma
Brother Sport