Kevin Barnes is back, and he's up to his same old tricks. Thirty seconds into "False Priest," it's obvious that you're listening to an Of Montreal album. The quick pop hooks, the tight harmonies and the driving electric beats all signal another well−crafted album in the same vein as 2008's "Skeletal Lamping." In fact, listen to any Of Montreal album since "Satanic Panic in the Attic" (2004) and you will find something very similar to their latest set. However, the consistency of the product does nothing at all to detract from the quality that shines throughout this album.
Barnes, the band's frontman, has brought Of Montreal a long way since their first album. They now occupy a comfortable niche where Barnes can delve into his psyche within the confines of the electronic pop that the band is known for.
This album, especially, focuses heavily on relationships and Barnes' perception of them. It is nearly schizophrenic in its view of women, and nowhere is its internal dichotomy more emphasized than in the two opening tracks. "I Feel Ya' Strutter" is an ode to the ideal relationship that transitions almost seamlessly into "Our Riotous Defects," a song which revolves around the lyric, "You are such a crazy girl."
In exploring this emotional territory, Barnes continues to rely heavily on his sardonic wit as a shield against sincere emotion. All of his lyrics, maybe more than on any album in the past, rely on a pseudo−free association and a veneer of erudition that disassociate the singer from the subject matter.
"Enemy Gene" is a perfect example of this. The song does a good job of trying to transmit the feeling of an emotional stunting following a break−up; however, Barnes cannot truly expect us to take him seriously with lyrics like, "There's zombies licking your window/For black body radiation, oh." This distancing and sarcasm provide an effective mirror to the attitudes and disposition of the hipster generation, yet here they do detract from the emotional heft that could be achieved with a little more sincerity. Emotions aside, however, the lyrics throughout the album do confirm that Kevin Barnes is one witty individual.
The music itself dabbles in traditional Of Montreal territory with few twists. The music provides a danceable infrastructure to the lyrics that are clearly Barnes's focus. Of course, Barnes's favorite trick is back and can be found on almost every track in the album: He has become inordinately fond of abruptly and drastically changing the pace and tone of a song before returning just as abruptly to the original tone.
The guest vocalists on the album also contribute successfully to shaking up the pattern of the album, counterbalancing Barnes's rock and electronica background with R&B and jazz influences.
Despite a few issues with the lyrics and predictability of the track progression, this is a fantastically listenable album. Many of the upbeat tracks make the listener want to do nothing more than jump out of his or her seat and dance. In fact, even on the slower, downbeat songs, it is hard to listen to this album without a smile on your face.
I have only one serious reservation: More so than at any point in the past, Of Montreal relies on spoken−word interludes in this album. These portions break the flow of the album, and Barnes uses them predominately as a platform for his true beliefs. This is especially true in the closer to the album, "You Do Mutilate?," where Barnes expounds at length on his disdain for organized religion and his general dissatisfaction with humanity. As much as I appreciate the rare sincerity expressed in these portions, the moralizing detracts from the smoothness of the album.
In the end, this album is smooth and listenable, and one of the better offerings in Of Montreal's body of work. However, they went out of their way to avoid reinventing the wheel with this album. For old Of Montreal fans, there might not be enough new here to warrant the investment; however, for potential new fans, I can't think of a better starting point for introducing yourselves to this band's work.
