At first they were very twee. Then they were disco-punk, sort of. And now they are one. Kevin Barnes, this enigmatic band's prolific singer-songwriter, wrote and recorded much of this album alone, though he did enlist the help of a few friends (Alabee Blonde, the Late B.P. Helium and Heather McIntosh). Programmed handclaps, looped semi-funky bass and synth washes are the main ingredient on the Athens-based dude's Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer?. Thankfully, he's still intent on mixing and matching disparate genres at whim, throwing Beach Boys' harmonies atop songs that sound more than a little like a Bowie-Eno collaboration. Lyrically, these might be the most personal songs Barnes has written. Sonically it's solid, but not as fully realized as the band's prior albums. As with any "growing pains" record, Destroyer might not make many new fans, but old ones will be pleased. The real breakthrough number, the song that hopefully hints at the band's next direction, is the twelve minute "Past Is a Grotesque Animal," a lovely and percolating New Wave motorik number that recalls the neon splendor of La Dusseldorf while referencing Georges Bataille. It's really good, and makes the listener fondly yearn for one's college days. --Mike McGonigal
Review by J. Scott McClintock
After an impressive showing with 2004's Satanic Panic in the Attic and a jubilant follow-up in 2005's Sunlandic Twins, Of Montreal captain Kevin Barnes fell on some peculiar times. The birth of a daughter, alienation and depression in Norway, and subsequent separation from his wife and new child gave him plenty to mull over, work out, and serve up on 2007's Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer? At first glance, longtime Of Montreal followers might throw up their arms in dismay as Barnes moves well away from the usual slice-of-life character studies he's made such good use of over the past few years -- no pop-challenged London cabbies or paranoid senior citizens on Hissing. No sir. In fact, it's all about him -- every stitch of it. It's Kevin Barnes trying to woo himself out of a deep funk ("Suffer for Fashion," "Sink the Seine," and especially "Heimdalsgate Like a Promethean Curse"), lashing out ("She's a Rejecter"), or taking a dip in the self-pity pool (the epic wallower "The Past Is a Grotesque Animal" is nearly 12 minutes of drone-dance affirmations). At first, it's an alarming listening experience. Where's the self-assured, polished pop maestro who made such a fine showing on the past two albums? He took one hell of a beating, that's for sure. The Kevin Barnes heard here has a bone to pick, issues to work out, and a big-ol' chip on his shoulder -- and, man, does it show. The music and production reflect this as much as the lyrical content. Barnes throws every trick in his book at every arrangement, lending every track a definite "I'll show you!!" vibe. And show he does. The explosive opener, "Suffer for Fashion," exceeds every over the top anthem he's ever penned in one 2:58 ejaculation, and the alternately swaggering and smooth "Cato as a Pun" melds a gutsy guitar riff with a gorgeously fussed-over verse. Production-wise, it's quite an achievement -- the whole thing -- and, coupled with the bile and bitterness of the lyrics, makes for an exhausting experience in the headphones. There might be stray moments of whimsy, in the tunes and verse, but they are scant, and they hardly provide the lighthearted breathing room fans are used to receiving from the man. "Light" is not a word useful in describing any portion of this excursion, and the serious tone of this record may cause some hand wringing among even the dedicated. It's a challenging but ultimately rewarding album -- and one that definitely requires some thoughtful attention from the listener. Don't stow this one back on the shelf just yet -- it's a "grower."
Of Montreal
Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?
[Polyvinyl; 2007]
Rating: 8.7
The breakup album is a familiar pop music trope-- countless artists have harnessed the emotional fallout of a relationship to fuel their songwriting efforts. The less imaginative practitioners wind up churning out acoustic self-pity or overdriven spite and angst, while the most effective have draped heartbreak in a clever disguise (like the high-gloss domestic dispute of Fleetwood Mac's Rumours), or rendered personal pain as the most important event in human history (like the symphonic catharsis of ABC's The Lexicon of Love).
Despite a soft spot for concept albums, Of Montreal would seem an unlikely participant in this arena, having spent much of their career eschewing confessional introspection for escapist fantasy. Even amidst the notebook-doodle psychedelia society of Elephant 6, Kevin Barnes and his compatriots stood apart for their day-glo Nickelodeon world, full of bizarre characters with alliterative names and toy-box, sugar-high arrangements. While there's always been a dark streak running through Of Montreal's cartoon universe-- and Barnes' chipmunk-shrill voice sometimes tips disturbingly from childlike to desperate-- few would look to the Athens, Geo., band to accurately depict love's gory aftermath.
Yet in the past year, storm clouds have intruded upon the band's rainbow domain as Barnes went through a separation (he and his wife have since reconciled); concurrently, the band's sound has been slowly molting off the giddy pop of its early days, using its past couple of albums to test the waters of a more sinister combination of synth-pop and glam without abandoning its steakhouse jingle-worthy melodies. These two plot threads intertwine at Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?, an astonishingly good late-period record from Of Montreal that's as uncomfortably savage in its depiction of breakup psychology as it is relentlessly catchy.
The emotional accuracy of the record lies in Of Montreal's unwillingness, or perhaps inability, to settle for "woe is me" moping. Barnes resists the urge to cry into an acoustic guitar, instead portraying the full-spectrum manic mood-swings of the brokenhearted: desperately seeking distraction in drugs or religion, imagining himself as a cynical-minded lothario, and even considering violence. When Barnes does directly give in to his despair, it produces the monolithic 12-minute centerpiece of "The Past Is a Grotesque Animal", a gutwrenching soundtrack provided by an unrelenting bassline and a synth solo that sounds like an angry flying saucer.
The rest of Hissing Fauna is an endless supply of off-kilter but instantly appealing melodies intact over the band's newly robotic sound. The focus throughout is on mechanized rhythms and synthesizer swirls, though the tempos are no less hyperactive, and the attention span of the arrangements is only a shade longer. Occasionally, the bright synthesizers appear to mock Barnes' shadowy feelings, like the roller-skate organ riff that flits about the pleading drug-use of "Heimdalsgate Like a Promethean Curse", or the Christmas carol exterior of depression saga "A Sentence of Sorts in Kongsvinger".
Of Montreal's full embrace of this new sound works best in the record's second half, as after the soul-purge of "The Past Is a Grotesque Animal", Barnes tries to slut away the pain through a series of sex jams no less memorable for being completely unconvincing. "Bunny Ain't No Kind of Rider" finds the singer sauntering through the club brushing off sexual advances from both women and men and boasting of "soul power," while "Faberge Falls for Shuggie" struts over a bassline funkier than I ever could have imagined the group capable of producing. Throughout, Barnes multi-tracks several lascivious voices, making bizarre double entendres out of parachutes and interiors. It's not the direction many of their fans might've imagined they'd take, but it's that very attribute that makes it so ceaselessly fascinating and inexhaustibly replayable.
-Rob Mitchum, January 24, 2007
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