Help me to enjoy earlier Animal Collective stuff / Animal Collective OPO

Because it's soothing, and sleepy. It's not schizophrenic like a lot of their other stuff. It's also in no way an Elephant 6 throwback! (cue dudes telling me I am wrong.)

campfiresongs is sprawling, sensual, and evokitive (meaning it evokes/enduces a variety of sensational reactions). entirely dif't from sung tongs and much of the other AC material.

here comes the indian has a brilliant mix of runs, twirls, and hops about musics of variety. it can be tough to listen to if you are looking for something singular, like sung tongs.

reviewing danse/spirit i went on and on like this:

Despite staggering variety of odd electronics, effects, and in-organic tools employed in recording the two artifacts collected here, an overwhelming humanity permeates what could otherwise be dismissed as pagan soundscapes. “Spirit, They’ve Vanished” beams open the first disc, Animal Collective’s initial offering, with a zap! pow! zoom! into a slightly just off landscape – a better present – all sundown whispers, warbles, clicks, and wavers worming about into a ball of twee pop before the splintered full-moon lunacy, spastic strums and shouts, and crazed blurting of “April and The Phantom” firmly sets the tone for the rest of the record. This early collaboration between Avey Tare and Panda Bear revolves around an intricate nucleus of classic pop song structures in an entirely irregular orbit. Bursts of feedback, mechanical hums, electric bugs, timing lost guitar strumming, and head in and out of the sand vocals thrillingly disguise proper pop without venturing soo far into free expression that draws up condemnation as child’s play.

The ten tracks collected here may expose the seeds of future flowers but never underwhelm like a sack of magic beans. Instead, tracks like “Penny Dreadfuls” and “Someday I’ll grow up to be as tall as the giants” draw upon the stirring yearnings of young artists to reach out and expand their world. Avey Tare’s pained disguised vocals occasionally gain sublime lucidity and clarity amidst the mystic, jazzy arrangements as though trying to escape to trappings of a mechanical age.

Spirit’s profound closing track finds the Collective at their most accomplished. A piano led chaos begging “what now little children,” “Alvin Row” recalls the whimsical trips inside human perception of Syd Barrett’s Pink Floyd or jazzy acidfolk of Tim Buckely’s Lorca.

The follow-up, 2001’s Danse Manatee, showcases improved technological prowess on a collection of more listenable works, perhaps at the cost of decreased overt engagement. An icy atmosphere of winter twilight seemingly stifles the Collective. Songs are more sparsely arranged and more deftly performed, but appear less developed and immediate. Chilly electronic chirpings mix with synthesized drones over splattering free drumming producing tones of secluded abandonment and tension. Tare’s vocals on “Meet the Light Child”, “Bad Crumbs” and other tracks lack the urgent appeals of earlier works; instead his whispered moans drift serenely – almost ambivalently – above the frozen ground of Panda Bear and Geologist’s electronics.

Despite this aloofness, Danse Manatee springs from the same childlike playfulness of Spirit, carving out unique strong structures and compelling melodies. “Another White Singer (little White Glove)” plays on the edge of dance-pop but refuses to fall into clichéd phrases or plastic production. These songs inherently refuse banal consumption and contain, despite their highly electronic parts, a purely human and humanist heart. “The Living Toys” trumps The Nutcracker and Toy Story, animating a Frankenstein’s doll of warbling electronics, pained vocals, and waking from a coma guitars. “Thrown the Round Ball” goes one step further. Here the living toys frolic and play about Pinocchio, now transformed to a real boy.

Prior to this re-issue, Animal Collective’s early work has been overshadowed by the critical flowering over their most recent releases. This year’s acoustic folk suite, Campfire Songs, and electric folk experience, Her Comes the Indian, have garnered all the attention, but these two introductory works often offer ambitious and dizzyingly intriguing bits of lunatic pop which deny standard description. The lads may seem hell bent on delirium, but their music is far less than that. These are just folk songs. Music of people for people.

The only one I still haven't fallen in love with is "Here Comes The Indian".