Of Montreal Albums (11)
What The Critics Say
During the closing moments of 2007's Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?, bandleader Kevin Barnes introduced his alter ego, an effeminate singer by the name of Georgie Fruit. One year later, that character runs amok on Skeletal Lamping, having wrenched the spotlight away from Barnes' sugary pop and trained it on an ambitious hybrid of glam rock, experimental R&B, and Scissor Sisters-styled sex-funk. Barnes sounds truly uninhibited under the Fruit guise, making declarations like "I'm just a black she-male!" with flamboyant confidence. Such a shift in direction marks Of Montreal's ascent into the psychedelic clouds where Ziggy Stardust once flew, only this time, the listener catches a ride on the back of a transgendered Prince fanatic whose songs are fragmented and confusing, yet still peppered with irresistible hooks. Like the album's cover art (an origami-influenced billfold whose flaps unfurl to form a giant floral display), Skeletal Lamping demands attention by being purposely puzzling. The music is extravagant and elaborate; each song is comprised of multiple vignettes, many of them completely different in style, and each track spills into the next. It's interesting to watch the pieces fit together -- to pinpoint the exact second where one song ends and another one begins. But whether or not you enjoy Skeletal Lamping depends on your tolerance for unchecked ambition and left-field experimentation, both of which are emphasized here. Of Montreal have rarely sounded so free, so unrestrained, but this is a love-it-or-lump-it album, a polarizing effort that -- depending on personal preference -- is either irresistibly attractive or overzealously pretentious. ~ Andrew Leahey, All Music Guide
'Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?'
Release Date 1/1/2007
Tracks 12
Label Polyvinyl Company
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What The Critics Say
After an impressive showing with 2004's Satanic Panic in the Attic and a jubilant follow-up in 2005's Sunlandic Twins, Of Montreal captain Kevin Barnes fell on some peculiar times. The birth of a daughter, alienation and depression in Norway, and subsequent separation from his wife and new child gave him plenty to mull over, work out, and serve up on 2007's Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer? At first glance, longtime Of Montreal followers might throw up their arms in dismay as Barnes moves well away from the usual slice-of-life character studies he's made such good use of over the past few years -- no pop-challenged London cabbies or paranoid senior citizens on Hissing. No sir. In fact, it's all about him -- every stitch of it. It's Kevin Barnes trying to woo himself out of a deep funk ("Suffer for Fashion," "Sink the Seine," and especially "Heimdalsgate Like a Promethean Curse"), lashing out ("She's a Rejecter"), or taking a dip in the self-pity pool (the epic wallower "The Past Is a Grotesque Animal" is nearly 12 minutes of drone-dance affirmations). At first, it's an alarming listening experience. Where's the self-assured, polished pop maestro who made such a fine showing on the past two albums? He took one hell of a beating, that's for sure. The Kevin Barnes heard here has a bone to pick, issues to work out, and a big ol' chip on his shoulder -- and, man, does it show. The music and production reflect this as much as the lyrical content. Barnes throws every trick in his book at every arrangement, lending every track a definite "I'll show you!!" vibe. And show he does. The explosive opener, "Suffer for Fashion," exceeds every over the top anthem he's ever penned in one 2:58 ejaculation, and the alternately swaggering and smooth "Cato as a Pun" melds a gutsy guitar riff with a gorgeously fussed-over verse. Production-wise, it's quite an achievement -- the whole thing -- and, coupled with the bile and bitterness of the lyrics, makes for an exhausting experience in the headphones. There might be stray moments of whimsy, in the tunes and verse, but they are scant, and they hardly provide the lighthearted breathing room fans are used to receiving from the man. "Light" is not a word useful in describing any portion of this excursion, and the serious tone of this record may cause some hand wringing among even the dedicated. It's a challenging but ultimately rewarding album -- and one that definitely requires some thoughtful attention from the listener. Don't stow this one back on the shelf just yet -- it's a "grower." ~ J. Scott McClintock, All Music Guide
'The Sunlandic Twins'
Release Date 1/1/2005
Tracks 17
Label Polyvinyl
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What The Critics Say
Kevin Barnes' seventh Of Montreal album continues in his traditional vein of toying and teasing our memories of '60s pop, fed through whichever other fad or fashion most appeals to him at the time. In this instance, it's "21st century ADD electro-cinematic avant disco," which is a deliciously protracted way of saying quirky rhythms, lush harmonics, and a warm spot on the same side of the bed that the Polyphonic Spree occasionally share. The most deceptive angle to the album probably has to do with the titles -- it's unlikely whether the most obtuse mind could ever imagine tapping its toes to something called "Wraith Pinned to the Mist (And Other Games)," while "Forecast Fascist Future" simply shouldn't sound like a British Beach Boys, pebble-dashed with Ray Davies' finest harmonic daydreams, and then piped into a nursery where the infant Frank Zappa lays sleeping. Elsewhere, "Our Spring Is Sweet, Not Fleeting" may be little more than a minute long, but you live through great swathes of Rosemary's Baby while it's playing. To harp on about the "obvious" precedents that aging ears can pick out of Of Montreal's sonic stew, however, is to overlook all that is so savagely entertaining about their music (plus, it makes them sound like a High Llamas tribute band, which is unfair as well). Rather, Sunlandic Twins is an album to leave playing while you're going about your daily business. Then see how quickly you discover its 13 tracks burrowing so deeply into your skull that it's as though you'd lived with its jerking, burbling, and never less than transcendental swirlings for ever. ~ Dave Thompson, All Music Guide
'Satanic Panic in the Attic'
Release Date 4/6/2004
Tracks 14
Label Polyvinyl
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What The Critics Say
From the opening synth handclaps and dual lead guitar harmonies of "Disconnect the Dots," the first song on Satanic Panic in the Attic, you know you are in for a different Of Montreal. Working on his own, save for a few helping hands on occasional strings and vocals, Kevin Barnes has crafted Of Montreal's most focused and powerful sounding record yet. Fans of the bursting-to-the-seams arrangements of the past may feel a bit let down by the stripped-down sound at first, but once you get past that feeling, the beautiful melodies and thrilling, immediate sound of the record are sure to reel you in. Besides, it isn't like this is a Matchbox Twenty record. Barnes is still as surreal lyrically and musically inventive as ever. Instead of treading closely to the conventions of the Elephant 6 chamber psych sound, Barnes expands his musical reach quite impressively to encompass disco-funk ("My British Tour Diary," which comes replete with drum breaks and cowbell; the lovely "Spike the Senses"), hard rock (the driving "How Lester Lost His Wife"), Beachwood Sparks-style cosmic country ("Erroneous Escape Into Erik Eckles"), power pop of the East Coast dB's variety (the gushing and surprisingly personal love song "Your Magic Is Working"), well-done Beach Boys homage ("Climb the Ladder"), and acoustic balladry (the wonderful "City Bird," which has one of the band's sweetest melodies and strips the sound all the way down to acoustic guitar and multitracked vocal harmonies). The last song on the record ("Vegan in Furs") even manages a breathtaking fusion of Afro-pop, disco, and freakbeat. The tougher sound and punchier arrangements also help keep the more whimsical lyrical flights from crashing (see the necrophiliac anthem "Chrissy Kiss the Corpse" or the goofy "My British Tour Diary"). Where the sticky sweetness of the band may have been a touch cloying once, now the sugar smacks you right in the head like pop music at its best does. Satanic Panic in the Attic is probably the first Of Montreal record that doesn't sound like you need a special decoder ring to figure out what is going on, the first record that you can imagine people outside of the Elephant 6 web ring buying and actually listening to with pleasure. To be able to create a record as open-hearted and musically direct and great as this without sacrificing much of the inspiration and sound that first made the band worth hearing is quite a feat. ~ Tim Sendra, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Intended as an "album of singles" in favor of diminishing their normal proclivities toward conceptual grandiosity and musical adventurousness, Aldhils Arboretum marks a peculiar change of pace for Elephant 6's most prolific popsters. About six songs and 20 minutes shorter than the average Of Montreal outing, the band manages to retain a good deal of their trademark zaniness while producing what might be their most focused and polished work. In fact, the band has never sounded stronger instrumentally as a straightforward retro-rock unit. Big ringing keyboards and wild veering guitar lines color unshakable ear candy like "Doing Nothing" and "Jennifer Louise," both tracks that rank among their most catchy, if not the most innovative, in their extensive catalog. Of course, Kevin Barnes still indulges a bit in his tendency toward obscurely surreal narrative, with both "The Blank Husband Epidemic" and "An Ode to the Nocturnal Muse" being unpredictably odd ventures into his unique imagination. Further, even though the intricately playful nature of some of their best songwriting is somewhat muted, Barnes does manage to extend his reputation for gorgeously florid balladry on a few tracks. All in all, even though they don't have an overarching concept to rest under, the set of songs present is undeniably strong and ultimately stamped with all of the important elements that make Of Montreal's brand of psychedelic pop so exemplary. ~ Matt Fink, All Music Guide
'Coquelicot Asleep in the Poppies: A Variety of Whimsical Verse'
Release Date 4/23/2001
Tracks 22
Label Polyvinyl
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What The Critics Say
Of Montreal's major voice Kevin Barnes has unparalleled talent to write lyrics that double as relatable adult situations and children's fable. This trend continues on Coquelicot Asleep in the Poppies. While there are come similarities to their previous efforts Bedside Drama and The Gay Parade, Coquelicot is more ambitious in its concept, arrangements, lyrics, and even artwork. As with other Of Montreal albums, this one works as a concept, but the songs also stand on their own, which is even more impressive. The songs are awash in melodies and harmony, a trademark of Of Montreal's previous work as well as other Elephant 6 related bands. Barnes continues to write amazingly creative lyrics full of imagery, even including interludes of story on "Lecithin's Tale of a DNA Experiment That Went Terribly Awry" and "The Events Leading Up to the Collapse of Detective Dullight." "Let's Do Everything for the First Time" is classic Of Montreal, while "Penelope" has a Syd Barrett feel to it. Strings are the main feature of mellow and beautiful "It's a Very Starry Night," and "It's Just So" could have been lifted right off of Bedside Drama. The band also incorporates a wide variety of instruments such as cello and violin to accordion and theremin. Coquelicot builds perfectly upon The Gay Parade and shows the progression of a great band. ~ Tyson Bjorge, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
The Gay Parade is indie pop's very own Sgt. Pepper, a richly detailed, grandly ambitious concept record which forgoes the ponderous pretensions the phrase implies to instead exult in the simple joys of everyday life. Kevin Barnes' songs radiate a childlike wonder and boundless enthusiasm, discovering beauty in the most unlikely of places; his lyrics suggest psychedelic nursery rhymes, populated by absurdist characters (each and every one depicted on the jacket art) sketched in Crayola across a series of majestic melodies and ornate arrangements which belie the record's surface naïveté. For all of The Gay Parade's effervescence and whimsy, there's also a melancholy that pervades songs like "Jacques Lamure," "The Autobiographical Grandpa," and "My Friend Will Be Me," recalling the lovelorn hues of the previous Of Montreal record, The Bedside Drama: A Petite Tragedy; far from deflating the euphoria, however, these moments simply acknowledge the necessity of sadness and loss to the human experience, and deem them worthy of celebration as well. These are songs in the key of life, Zen-like expressions of simplicity and innocence resonating with remarkable complexity and wisdom. ~ Jason Ankeny, All Music Guide
'The Bedside Drama: A Petite Tragedy'
Release Date 1/1/1998
Tracks 16
Label Polyvinyl
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
A continuation and maturation of the playfulness exhibited on earlier releases, Of Montreal create the brand of theatrical psychedelic pop that many of their '60s predecessors hinted at but only few achieved. Overall less overtly rock-influenced than either Cherry Peel or Horse and Elephant Eatery, Kevin Barnes continues to change chords with nearly every word, twirling Vaudevillian melodies that incredibly bring to life all the whimsy and melancholy of the characters he carefully orchestrates. Though these characters don't yet take on the florid personalities that would be found in later Of Montreal albums, Barnes nonetheless proved himself an adept illustrator, as he charted the dizzying highs of infatuation, the leveling off of emotion, and the devastating collapse of a relationship with a picturesque precision. Still sweetly naïve with the swinging skiffle pop of "One of a Very Few of a Kind" and the gorgeously complex melodies of "Happy Yellow Bumblebee," the latter finding the narrator becoming a bee, befriending beetles and centipedes, avoiding spiders, and getting lonely because his parents are dead and his brothers and sisters are nowhere to be found, the absurdity of the songwriting never grows tiresome. Even so, understated gloominess creeps into tracks with the dark piano strikes of "Panda Bear" and the sprightly "It's Easy to Sleep When You're Dead," although the narrator escapes with the conclusion that life is a better choice in the end. Overall, an album that marked a crucial stage in the evolution from the lo-fi garage pop of Cherry Peel to the ambitious rock carnival of The Gay Parade and cemented Of Montreal's status as one of the most creatively relevant groups of the late '90s. ~ Matt Fink, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Hailing from the '90s-resurgent Athens, GA, scene, unofficial home base to the Elephant 6 collective, Of Montreal is perhaps the least publicized band in the Elephant 6 stable but not because they make the least-worthy music. To the contrary, Cherry Peel is one of the most unabashedly pretty releases from that group, and, in fact, stands apart from most everything in the pop scene due to its simple, unassuming innocence. The vocals of songwriter Kevin Barnes are achingly heartfelt and puppyish, and his songs seem to spring directly out of childhood, or at least seem touched by a childlike yearning, so much so that you can't help feeling all fuzzy inside and perhaps desirous of hugging someone, maybe your mom, after hearing them. And the songs are uniformly expert: "In Dreams I Dance With You" comes across like a cupid-struck Pinocchio's sweet longing; "Montreal" is a wasteland ballad worthy of Neil Young; and "Don't Ask Me to Explain" will make your heart palpitate and bubble up into your throat it is so unpretentiously euphonic. The closest cousin to Of Montreal is probably the Apples in Stereo, and like that band, the influence of the Beatles, particularly Paul McCartney, and the Beach Boys is pervasive, and other '60s music such as Brill Building pop and the Lovin' Spoonful ("Everything Dissappears When You Come Around") and a bit of psychedelia, as well as a pinch of new wave, occasionally reaches the surface of the songs. But Of Montreal touches on so many other sources than those, such as circus music and, on "I Can't Stop Your Memory," even a bit of jazz, and the entire album has the sentiment and conviction of early-20th century, old-timey, and Tin Pan Alley tunes. The gorgeous lushness of Cherry Peel conceals the bedroom-bred genesis of the entire undertaking. And though it would be easy to dismiss the whole album as so much cuteness, Of Montreal never hint at irony. The band is not mocking pop, it loves the form and the chance to express that joy; and that joy is on full display on Cherry Peel like no band since the early Beatles. ~ Stanton Swihart, All Music Guide
