Lousy With Sylvianbriar

The shift in Of Montreal’s sound over the past decade-and-a-half has arguably been one of the most varied and inexplicably brilliant in modern music. From the nearly-too-twee pop of 1997’s Cherry Peel to the Prince-influenced sex-funk of Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer? in 2007 and last year’s polarising blend of psychedelic rock and discordant noises, Paralytic Stalks, it seemed that there was nowhere else for frontman Kevin Barnes to go but to record himself humming nursery rhymes over white noise (with a theremin playing in the background. Maybe.) As a result, the almost complete conventionality of Lousy With Sylvianbriar comes as a bit of a surprise, especially as it’s really quite good.

As soon as the Nuggets-style guitar comes in on opener ‘Fugitive Air’, it’s clear that this is a different sound for a different band – quite literally, as almost the entire recording line-up has been changed as well. Gone are the previously ever-present synths; they’ve been replaced by a 60s-inspired rock-and-roll ensemble. Repeated guitar riffs that are sure to get stuck in your head hold together a number of songs on the album such as ‘Hegira Émigré’ and ‘She Ain’t Speakin’ Now; Belle Glade Missionaries’. It doesn’t break any new ground – in fact, it’s probably more than a bit derivative of 60s psychedelia – but when the mimicry is this competent, that’s hardly cause for complaint (besides, it’s interesting to see an era other than the 1980s appropriated in 2013…).

What stops this album from becoming a complete copy-and-paste from the past, though, is what Barnes has retained from his past efforts: his confessional, and occasionally completely bizarre, lyricism. Whether his writing is poetry or just juvenile is subjective, but it’s hard to ignore an opening verse as flamboyantly stark as that of ‘Colossus’: “Your mother hung herself in the National Theater/When she was four months pregnant with your sister/Who would have been thirteen years old today/Does that make you feel any less alone in the world?”

This album doesn’t break any new ground … but when the mimicry is this competent, that’s hardly cause for complaint.”

The spaces between the rollicking 60s’ pop allow for some moments of introspection, too; most of these use vocalist Rebecca Cash to add some gravitas as a calm backing singer next to Barnes’ frenetic falsetto . The vocal harmonies on ‘Obsidian Currents’ and her lead vocals on the penultimate track ‘Raindrop In My Skull’ are especially strong, and these mellower moments add another, arguably more relatable, dimension to the album.

There was possibly some question as to whether Of Montreal’s creative growth could sustain itself. However, by taking a step back and reassessing just what made the band the indie powerhouse it is today, Kevin Barnes has made a more accessible album without completely losing the experimentalism of the band’s previous releases – and, more importantly, without losing their quality.

Similar To: Foxygen, Nuggets: Original Artyfacts from the First Psychedelic Era

MP3: Belle Glade Missionaries, Hegira Émigré