review - grizzly bear 'veckatimest'

In short : "Sorry, guys, not really feeling this."

Long but ultimately potentially more fulfilling : The cover of Grizzly Bear's 'Veckatimest' is imposing. Or at least, Ed Droste wants you to think it's imposing, that the colourful-but-slighty-faded-ASSYMETRICAL-BLOCKS won't be filed under 'a bit new ravey' and will be taken Seriously. As Art. Because Grizzly Bear are now serious and they give a shit. Seriously, they give a shit. About melody and rhythm and 'pop'. Sigh.

I heard an abysmal leak of 'While You Wait For The Others' last May, and on this very blog commented (in my own special 15-year-old way) that "it's quite good by the way, though the fact that it has a structure and proper lyrics that aren't disjointed words and phrases tacked together makes me uncomfortable..." Oh, man. Close your eyes and cover your ears, 15-year-old me, because this isn't going to be easy to read. Or hear. Grizzly Bear have gone 'meticulous'. No more slow-burning thunderous epic wailers. No more 'freetranslation' skewed lyrics. No more deconstruction or fun eeriness or inconsistency. Double sigh.

Here's a truth - cohesion ruins albums, especially ones by slightly deranged 'cult' folky indie bands. Dirty Projectors remain suitably manic for a reason, right, it's because it works. 'Veckatimest' sounds like an album that acts smug in record shops namechecking Beach Boys b-sides, namely that-one-in-london-which-is-now-a-wine-bar-what-the-. Where's the fun? And by that, I mean, where's the depression and angst and pain? Where's the wailing? There's tame wailing on 'Veckatimest', but it's Directional and Ambitious. It's the kind that gets a 9.7 on Pitchfork.com and then it becomes a purr. Triple sigh.

Things I blame (ie things that could be remedied, if Ed Droste is reading)

• Maturity ('evolving')
• Touring with Radiohead (BOO)
• Lack of live dates (which makes music theatrical and exciting)
• Department of Eagles. No I'm kidding you guys rule. I love you.

ps. redeeming feature of album and band : best drummer ever, ever, ever, ever, ever.

A poem I wrote which doubles as a review of Kila Kela, in which I liken Carol Ann Duffy to a serial killer

I once wondered
If I could write
One hundred poems in a day
Every one as good
As every other one
And every two as bad
As the baddest person I have ever met
Coincidentally, one time I thought I met John Lennon's killer
Alas, poor dude was the drummer from Kila Kela
I say "poor dude" because that band sucked
And the dude could've had a brilliant career
As a serial killer
Like Carol Ann Duffy.