CD of The Week

A strange dichotomy seems to exist between the two principal songwriters in Animal Collective, both on actual Animal Collective records and in their respective solo output. Whereas Avey Tare sprawls outward sonically with his ever-expanding arsenal of kitchen sinks, Noah “Panda Bear” Lennox pulls those sinks together, shines them up, and makes them inviting for visitors to use. There may be a little clutter on the edges, but the water flow sounds nice enough. Lennox offers up his cleanest, most accessible sink of songs yet on new albumPanda Bear Meets the Grim Reaper. Coming nearly four years after his last solo outing, the underrated Tomboy, it simultaneously widens the stylistic gap between him and his Animalistic partner while incorporating the same trickery that made their songs like “My Girls” so bewitching.

On paper, not much has changed. Everything is still awash in reverb. Lennox still mulls over mortality and the meaning of life, though he still seems to prefer how words sound to what they say half of the time. Nevertheless, the words and the sounds around them sound very nice. By now, warmth and whimsy have become trademark bedfellows on a Panda Bear record. The key difference with Reaper is the added ingredient of propulsion. These songs move where they used to meander, pushed along by backing beats and vocoder effects worthy of Odelay-era Beck. Lead single “Mr. Noah” ranks among the most driving things Lennox has ever done.

Elsewhere, it becomes obvious that his recent Daft Punk collaborations triggered a mad jones for synth-pop, even if in Lennox’s hands those synths lean more Eno than EDM. “Boys Latin” blossoms into a magnificently malevolent churn, while “Principe Real” sounds hell-bent on Washing Out the remnants of chillwave to occupy the same space in blog history. The latter song is the first half of the most surprising suite on the album, followed by the spare yet spacious “Selfish Gene” that seems to take a melody off last year’s La Roux album and strips it down to its bare, bobbing bones.

As with most Panda Bear (and Animal Collective) records, Grim Reaper is tricky to parse without multiple, dedicated listens. Fortunately, Lennox’s continued playfulness with texture and melody make first exposure feel like diving into a pool for the first time all season. It might chill at first, but splash around enough and the water starts to warm and even refresh. In meeting his titular maker, Panda Bear sounds as alive as always.