ive been into the plants and simple treasures

I've never been a huge lyrics person. Well, not in the conventional sense anyway. I've always been more drawn to bewildering imagery than naked emotion. This is why I'd rather hear Bob Pollard sing about lighthouses and aliens than Matt Beringer sing about wine and heartbreak. Because of this, singers praised for their lyrics regularly leave me feeling a bit out in the cold. I've never subscribed to the cult of Dylan, Waits, Cohen, Cave and all those other wordsmiths whose utterances make Mojo readers weep. I accept they are great and that their words carry weight but when talk turns to these dudes at parties its generally an "I'll get me coat" moment for me. Maybe I'll grow into them as life experience builds, or maybe I'll remain forever at the brink peeking into this world of heartache and profundity, wondering if I am some sort of emotionally stunted childbrain. In saying that, there are a few 'classic' lyrics that I've managed to "get" such as Wichita Lineman, Fairytale of New York and Born to Run, but as for the like of Visions of Johanna? Listening to that sort of thing is like sipping wine you're told is an expensive vintage and feeling embarrassed because you can't tell the difference between it and 5 euro Tesco plonk. The songs that always made me feel most emotional were the ones where the emotion is expressed indirectly through strange metaphors and symbols, stuff like Neutral Milk Hotel's Ghost and the Flaming Lips' Waitin' For Superman. I suppose I'm the kind of person that feels sad at the sight of a rusty gate, or a discarded tayto wrapper.

Which brings me to animal collective.



Animal collective are a band that communicate more to me than most music I hear these days. Apart from the somewhat decipherable yelps at the fore of much of Strawberry Jam, their lyrics tend to play hide and seek, gliding over distances, echoing from sparse distant spaces one minute and crying up close through heavy thickets of musical foliage the next. Its always hard to get a handle on exactly what they are singing about but many of the snippets that filter through have a naive quality that is nature-focused, almost pagan and reminds me of Aldous Huxley's rapturous description of the natural world in The Doors of Perception. Lyrics such as "I've been into the plants and simple treasures" and "you could build a rabbit with a rib" are from a primal and altered place that they have made their own. Couple these with music that continues to sound on a fundamental level like it was made with rattling bones and twigs no matter how technologically advanced it gets, and listening to Animal Collective is always the greatest escape. A a new EP by them is pinging all over the internet at the moment. Its called Water Curses and its stuff that didn't make it on to Strawberry Jam. Its further proof that they are going through a purple period of enormous creativity. The four songs on it are all worthy additions to the abundance of riches in the back catalogue. Best of the bunch is Street Flash, a languid psychedelic evening walk that wears its 6 and a half minutes lightly. Look out for a bizzare moment containing a bloodcurdling scream which to me (perhaps because of the incongrous musical setting) sounds oddly comforting. The second MP3 here is the title track, a more hectic experience, full of sunshine, flutes and calypso drums.

MP3: Animal Collective-Street Flash

MP3: Animal Collective-Water Curses

Finally I have one response to that head scratching worry many of us are experiencing-how in the name of god does one choose which gigs to go to in the veritable chinese take-away menu of musical goodies this May. My good friend the artist and illustrator Laura emailed me a gig rainbow! Here's a Jpeg.



Because of cash flow problems my rainbow will look a lot more decrepit than Laura's colourful bonanza. It will have two stripes, one called Animal Collective and one called Spiritualized.