Grizzly Bear
Veckatimest
(Warp/Inertia)
With every scrap of information pertaining to Veckatimest fast-tracked to blog headlines in the four months preceding its release, it’s difficult to penetrate the hyperbole and listen to these Brooklyn natives newest it for what it simply is – a glacial indie pop album. Albeit one that strives to be so much more.
As with previous Grizzly Bear efforts, Veckatimest is an album that seems to continually expand until the final, introspective moments; one that appropriately punctuates more psychedelic moments with bursts of pop bliss; that unquestionably feels united in sound and mission – to make a glorious and ambitious album that builds on their pop strengths. The perhaps unintended side effect being Grizzly Bear hitting the charts (they debuted at No. 8 on the Billboard Charts in the US).
Over time Grizzly Bear's sound has shifted incrementally from it's experimental margins with the songwriting itself becoming much tighter and more immediate while the sound more organically symphonic and choral. There are still plenty of showcase moments for Chris Bear’s production flourishes, but they're more in service to the song rather than the gratuitous or self-indulgent sonic ornaments they once suggested.
But what do Grizzly Bear sing about? I don’t really know. The lyrical prowess of the band's two songwriters - Ed Droste and Daniel Rossen - is subordinate to the dense sound. The instrument here is the studio itself and it’s the breadth of the production and movements within each song that absorb more so than any narrative preoccupations. Reports of the four-piece slaving away to achieve aural perfection strike accurate, but the band are adept at pulling up before diminishing returns, careful to let the songs act as rudders through the production-heavy landscapes.
Veckatimest opens with ‘Southern Point,’ an acoustic number that erupts with sudden bursts of military-esque snares and background chanting. It’s a dynamic song with inventive and considered arrangements; an apt statement of intent. ‘Two Weeks’ follows and, like other obvious single-contenders ‘Cheerleader’ and ‘Ready, Able,’ it’s built around Ed Droste’s soaring, white-boy croon and a strong melody. These are classic singles - fine pop songs they adequately function as stand-alone tracks.
The album isn’t all winner though with experiements in nuance making the middle of the record sag - not much missteps but nothing to advance the mission. Playful vocal arrangements open several of them (‘Fine For Now,’ ‘Dory’) but too often the arrangements (or lack of) lose their way and rely most heavily on the production to compensate.
But Veckatimest rewards repeated listens, and the band finishes end with their strongest trio of songs. ‘While You Wait For The Others’ slowly builds to a bridge of acrobatic chanting that turns into a soaring denouement. It’s the same creeping build-up formula that they've used consistently and the track's effectiveness proves why. ‘I Live With You’ is another Dan Rossen effort that combines folky sounds with symphonic digressions, punctuated by crescendos of ghostly backing vocals and crashing cymbals. Lastly, ‘Foreground’ rounds out the album with their most stripped back moment. Largley just piano and Ed Droste’s croon, it’s a tight example of how strong their songs and melodies are beneath the production sheen.
It’s perhaps unfair to pick apart Veckatimest since not all the songs are meant to be examined in isolation, and within the context of the whole album they seem worthy of their place. Grizzly Bear have managed to construct an album that thinks big and sounds bigger; an album in cold, almost calculated pursuit of perfection. While they don’t always achieve that goal, their striving has resulted in Hrizzly Bear's strongest album yet. And one of the years best.
Matt Hickey