Of Montreal, better known as the group whose song “Wraith Pinned to the Mist (And Other Games)” is being used in commercials for Outback Steakhouse, has finally released their ninth full album since 1997, Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer? But after more than a year-and-a-half in the studio, Of Montreal shows it has more meat than the Outback variety by incorporating traces of ’60s Brit-pop, ’70s rock and ’80s funk to its own psychedelic sound.
After many changes in the group’s lineup since forming from the genius pool of the Elephant Six Collective (a who’s who of indie rockers that also spawned Neutral Milk Hotel) the now five-member band’s electronic sound became prominent on 2004’s Satanic Panic in the Attic and continues to come through in its latest effort. But this time, Of Montreal’s standard happy, head-bopping pop sound contrasts starkly with its confusing, sometimes dark lyrics. It’s perfect for emo junkies trying to wean themselves off their slow, sad tunes.
In a 2005 interview about what he thought the next album (Hissing Fauna) would sound like, frontman Kevin Barnes, who is said to have worked predominantly alone on the album, said, “I have this idea of it like being inside the brain of someone who’s having a serious fever spell.” He was pretty right on in his prediction – the album definitely sounds on the sick side. And not always in a good way.
The first few tracks on Hissing Fauna are slow-paced and each song fades into the next, only adding to the repetitiveness that makes them somewhat forgettable. The highlights of this first chunk of the album are the funky instrumental punctuations to the weak lyrics, which make you wish even more that there were no words at all.
“A Sentence of Sorts In Kongsvinger” comes as a welcome break to the monotony and mixes both the catchy, bass-heavy instrumentation and creepy lyrics that define the album. The song is definitively Of Montreal, but with influences of The Beatles – and in dire need of a psychiatrist.
“The Past Is a Grotesque Animal,” a 12-minute song on an only 50-minute album (for the mathematically challenged, that’s nearly 25 percent of Hissing Fauna) begins with an ominous drumbeat – perfect for a tribal sacrifice or some other creepy ritual – but then spirals into the musical equivalent of a speed overdose. Top off that experience with a detailed, overlong narrative that masquerades as lyrics, and nearly a fourth of this album is unbearable.
Not to say that Of Montreal has been a complete stranger over the years to narrative songs. In fact, it has acted as a third person to fictional characters more than once, not at all uncommon for an Elephant Six band. But parts of this album become angry and unrelenting first-person rants – which, when backed by equally angry or minimalist music, can bore or even scare a poor, unsuspecting listener.
Barnes’ personal struggles come through on this album more than they ever have, as evidence by the many lyrical references to his living in Norway. But much of this album seems to be his diary with a musical background rather than a creative outlet.
But Of Montreal makes up for its album’s languishing beginning and the “Grotesque Animal” debacle with “Bunny Ain’t No Kind of Rider,” a refreshingly cohesive track that shines when compared to the rest of the album. Barnes sounds almost sassy as he accuses a girl with an unrequited crush that she “ain’t got no soul power.” As an added bonus, “Bunny” contains Hissing Fauna’s least cryptic messages and, in its straightforwardness, gives listeners the most sing-along-able track of the album.
“Faberge Falls for Shuggie” is a slower track, but not the monotonous kind of slow from the album’s first half. It’s a jazz-inspired track with a heavy bass line and shows a lot of sophistication for a band that’s been known to use a kazoo. Their usual antics (talking or shouting flamboyantly mid-track) work with the beat and mesh quite well, making this song’s jazz inspiration one that works well with the band’s natural quirks. The subtly sexual lyrics, a rarity for the album and the band in general, make this an overall step out of the box for Of Montreal, and one that works for them.
The group also reaches into new territory, the ’80s-funk realm, with “Labyrinth Pomp,” a pure Prince throwback. Barnes’ voice reaches surprising heights while he chants on about “Booty Patrol” and asks, “How you wanna mess?”
It will be undoubtedly interesting to see if he can match those highs on the band’s tour, which continues in the United States and Canada through April. The song explores the range of the band’s influences, which still continue to grow even after ten years and provides a fast-paced and danceable beat that wakes up listeners from any stupor in which some of the previous tracks could have left them.
Nothing from Of Montreal’s latest effort is catchy enough to be jingle-worthy, but Hissing Fauna does deviate some from the band’s usual style. This ninth try for the group takes some chances that pay off but, unfortunately, more that don’t. Of Montreal is definitely going someplace exciting musically but also someplace scary lyrically, leaving this album lingering in limbo.
