Yeah, I’ll admit it: I succumb to hyperbole way too damn much. After reverring Merriweather Post Pavillion as basically the Second Coming, I’ve imposed self-censoring techniques to ensure I don’t casually call something the “worst ever”, “best ever”, etc. This is because there are instances where such tags are deserved. Merriweather is the best fucking ever. And “I Hate My Life” by Canadian nü grunge quartet (and Nickelback protégés) Theory of A Deadman might be the worst lyrics ever written.
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Today we have unveiled our review of the highly anticipated, much internet-sheriffed about new Animal Collective album Merriweather Post Pavilion. And like many of our contemporaries, we find it to be quite an enjoyable listen. But exactly one week into 2009 and it’s already being proclaimed the best record of the year, with some giving it higher praise than any release in all of 2008. And so I am left to wonder; am I the only one who isn’t even sure it’s the best record I’ve gotten in the last week, let alone all of this year and last?
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Merriweather Post Pavillion is such a colossal success that I find myself simultaneously overwhelmed and at a loss for words. I can’t separate the visceral from the critical: This album is awesome, incredible, awe-inspiring, phenomenal, breathtaking. I’m trying to articulate the integral beauty of “My Girls”, yet all that comes to mind are synonyms for unprecedented and astonishing. The process of “reviewing” each song feels wrong, diametrically opposed to the positive spirit that the album espouses. When a release is this good, why bother deconstructing each harmony or intention? How can I possibly describe Animal Collective’s perfected aesthetic?
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