Avey Tare - Eucalyptus
Tiny Mix Tapes 80
Avey Tare
Eucalyptus
[Domino; 2017]
Rating: 4/5
The slow disintegration of what made Animal Collective such an invigorating and unexpected figurehead of 21st-century music has been one of the bigger letdowns of the past several years. I’m less confident that Panda Bear, Avey Tare, Geologist, and Deakin have much chemistry left in them as a group that also extends its welcoming hand to us, their smeared approximation of pop music only fleetingly tapping into the restless curiosity and peculiar simplicity at the heart of all their greatest work. After such a beloved string of albums that continuously sought to reshape both the psychedelic and the familiar, Centipede Hz and Painting With feel like imitations of the kinds of sounds that made records like Feels and Strawberry Jam such consistently surprising listens. These newer, sonically-driven swathes of mulching noise stand in harsh opposition to the musical essence of their earlier albums, each of which felt like a further discovery of what Animal Collective could possibly be.
And yet even in spite of this seeming decline in inspiration, Eucalyptus is another powerful reminder of exactly how visionary these four childhood friends truly are. Much like Panda Bear’s PBVSGR or Deakin’s Sleep Cycle, David Portner’s newest project as Avey Tare reflects a particular fractal of the Animal Collective landscape re-mapped out in such detail to reveal new contours in its shape (in other words, the opposite of the “everything-now” approach of the last few full-band albums). Eucalyptus stands unexpectedly far apart from much of Avey Tare’s solo output, dialing in his usual unhinged zaniness for a calm, collected stream of songs that flirt with accessibility without sacrificing their loose, dispersed sense of assemblage. Dedicated to Portner’s newfound home of California, Eucalyptus plays like a slowly built collection of sounds gathered from mornings spent making coffee in the kitchen and afternoons wasted soaking in the cool of the air conditioner. Although these compositions possess a chordal backbone, they are generously steeped in gossamer passages of fleeting tones, recurring signals, and most of all, silence. The sheer range of sounds exhibited throughout Eucalyptus prohibits anything resembling live, one-take improv, but the album still feels as if it were created spontaneously, the progression of moods and colors so natural that it almost seems as if it could go on forever.
Eucalyptus by Avey Tare
Ironically, the songs throughout Eucalyptus resemble the past couple Animal Collective records, in that they seem constructed more out of raw sounds and textures than sculpted harmonies and rhythms. But the crucial difference is in the restraint Portner applies to his fantastical, impressionistic portraits of enchanting minutiae. Songs like “Melody Unfair” glide above their achingly strummed acoustic guitar foundation, Avey Tare’s voice providing a faint leading light, as the real heart of the music falls within the winding vocals of Angel Deradoorian and the strangely comforting noise of a rapidly pattering drum of some kind. Likewise, “Ms. Secret” carries one of the strongest melodies Portner has written in some time, a brisk, sweeping folk number as eager as it is mournful, yet the brief flashes of pedal steel guitar and flute (courtesy of Susan Alcorn and Eyvind Kang, respectively) are as crucial to the song as Portner’s lyrics about “the old times, when nothing had angles, and no one was cheating on us.” Perhaps Eucalyptus is a pining plea for the innocence that produced such autumnal masterpieces as Campfire Songs and Sung Tongs, but its sense of dissipated whimsy and hushed craft makes it unique from those (admittedly similar) works in an invigorated, cleansing way.
Although named for the fragrant Australian tree that now dots the hills of Southern California, Eucalyptus is closer to a portrait of interior human architecture than it is the world that surrounds us. Avey Tare’s stream of vanishing sounds, creaking floorboards, and silently intonated lullabies is romantic in its faded resemblance to our radiant, ever-growing environment; but as with Portner’s newly adopted city of Los Angeles, the supposed nature exists purely as an extension of the human desire to create and actualize what we see in our minds. In that way, Eucalyptus hums along like the casual spirit of humanity, both beholden to the world and strangely set apart from it, a dense collection of neurons and senses acting equally upon impulse and calculation, at once knowable and forever masked behind elements we can’t truly grasp. Perhaps what we formerly invested ourselves in as the notion of “Animal Collective” has passed on, never to return, but in Eucalyptus, we find that what tied us to that idea in the first place is more eternal and giving than we ever could have dreamed.
The Guardian 80
(Domino)
The recurring criticism of Avey Tare’s solo work to date has been that it strays too close to the output of his day job as vocalist for Baltimore oddballs Animal Collective. In truth, so distinctive is Tare’s slacker warble that you could stick it on top of a recording of Gregorian chanting and it would probably still sound like his parent band. Yet, there was definitely an inescapable hint of AC’s limpid weirdo-pop on 2010’s Down There and 2014’s Enter the Slasher House. His latest album still resembles Animal Collective, but in a way that feels invigorating rather than tired. Described as “an electroacoustic movement through leaves, rocks and dust”, it revives the backwoods freak-folk that the band largely abandoned after 2005’s excellent Feels. There are a few too many noodling sound collages across its 15 tracks, but at its peak – on the delicate, maudlin Ms Secret or the chirpingly melodic Jackson 5 – Eucalyptus reminds you of what made Tare and his bandmates such a thrillingly different prospect in the first place.
Continue reading... Thu Jul 20 16:00:25 GMT 2017Drowned In Sound 80
Thanks to the landmark Person Pitch, 2007 was undoubtedly Panda Bear’s year. But Strawberry Jam - the full band Animal Collective album released just months later - convinced me that it was Avey Tare who would one day produce the real opus, thanks to powerhouse songwriting like the back-to-back of ‘For Reverend Green’ and ‘Fireworks’. Sadly, I’ve been disappointed ever since. His first solo effort Down There was a dark and wretched thing. His quasi-supergroup Slasher Flicks was fun but underwhelming. The years passed. Perhaps it was never meant to be.
Ten years on, Eucalyptus swims into focus. And it’s a real treat. If you were firmly in the ‘return to form’ camp when it comes to this year’s Meeting Of The Waters EP, lightning has struck twice for you here. The obvious touchstones are the mid-Noughties period of Sung Tongs and Feels, with languid, lived-in arrangements and ambient field recordings. It’s wonderful to hear Avey strip back the heavy electronics for a hazy world of gentle acoustics once again, especially after 2012’s overblown Centipede Hz. and last year’s hyperactive Painting With seemed to entomb that period of Animal Collective history for good.
Enjoying its own world, Eucalyptus is an unapologetically long and sprawling record. Running at 15 tracks, well over an hour in total, and with songs ranging from between two minutes and ten in length, this is Avey at his most relaxed, indulgent and eccentric. It’s a stark contrast to the increasingly focussed songs of Animal Collective since Merriweather Post Pavilion, and a welcome rediscovery of his instinct to meander. Indeed, a glance at the credits show that he’s painting on some of his most vast canvases yet; around a dozen musicians in total, playing everything from the French horn to the steel guitar.
The funny thing is how easy it is to miss it all. These arrangements are so sparse and unhurried that it’s easy to drift through it in a tranquil, trance-like state; full blown chamber orchestral arrangements melting seamlessly into field recordings of running water. It takes repeated listens to appreciate the details and deceptive variety on offer here. Your initial reactions are likely to focus on how wonderful it is to hear Avey back at his weirdest, with songs like ‘PJ’ pushing his vocal register into a haunted warble which we haven’t heard from him in years.
Have we finally been gifted the opus Avey hinted at ten years ago? Perhaps not quite. It depends what you were after. In terms of straight up songwriting, he’s never really come close to packing out an album with stunners like ‘Fireworks’. But then, Eucalyptus makes no pretensions of attempting to be any such record. Instead, he’s revisiting some of the most fertile soil of his past work - bringing together his childlike enthusiasm with his penchant for gloomy undercurrents - and making it all sound as fresh and blissful as ever. It’s undoubtedly Avey’s best solo work to date, and another welcome reminder of Animal Collective’s ability to rejuvenate, surprise and delight.
Thu Jul 20 06:42:37 GMT 2017Pitchfork 76
Dave Porter’s latest album as Avey Tare is ambitious and inspiring. His painful, deeply personal, and intimate songs never are in constant search for new sounds and emotions.
Tue Jul 25 05:00:00 GMT 2017The Guardian 60
(Domino)
Avey Tare’s second solo album starts with a simple strum and ends, via reflections on the qualities of coral, with strange whirring sounds and a cry of rage. Audacious, cryptic and meandering, Eucalyptus is both brilliant and infuriating, thanks mainly to the Animal Collective man’s refusal to ditch the half-formed workouts that litter this LP. When Tare reins in his more outlandish instincts, as on Melody Unfair’s rococo folk and the jumpy tribal pop of Jackson 5, he shows he is capable of producing songs as good as any in his band’s oeuvre. Best of all is the candid When You Left Me, in which raw emotion supersedes sonic quirks.
Continue reading... Sun Jul 23 07:00:00 GMT 2017