Of Montreal – aethermead

As a close follower of Kevin Barnes’ musical evolution from the whimsical psych-pop of those early Elephant Six days right through to the glorious epiphany of Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer?, it’s hard to pinpoint precisely when and why I checked out—and yet check out I most certainly did.

Perhaps Gabriel Szatan’s review of 2012’s Paralytic Stalks offers some clues?

God, I hated this record on first listen. Looking back at my notes, you can’t move for phrases like “extremely off-putting", “indulgent madness”, “totally fucking awful” and, perhaps most damningly, “I think this is where I get off the boat with Of Montreal.”

My initial notes for aethermead weren’t too dissimilar.

In retrospect, Hissing Fauna’s sprawling centrepiece, “The Past is a Grotesque Animal,” was more than just a pivot on that record: Barnes’ momentum changed after that cathartic breakthrough. It feels like Of Montreal’s music—and lyrics—have been chasing that first high ever since, with diminishing returns.

Of Montreal’s twentieth album is a break-up record. Hissing Fauna was kind of a break-up record. 2015’s Aureate Gloom was also a break-up record. Barnes has spoken of a reluctance to repeat themselves musically, but lyrically and thematically aethermead feels very familiar.

A classic Barnes motif is the deployment of startlingly direct profanities alongside his usual highly literate lyrics. Here, we get high-brow lines like “Not noticing our heart’s assassins approaching in unflattering light” and “Like the cribellate silk to a creature” rubbing shoulders with the likes of “I just wanna fuck you again, when can I fuck you again?” from “When.” But this tactic has lost its shock value; we’ve experienced it before, and Barnes has executed it more effectively.

Sonically, aethermead feels characteristically restless, veering from gentle psychedelia (“Already Dreaming”) to uptempo indie (“Take the Form”) to dissonant, snotty rock ‘n’ roll (“When”), but by far the most convincing moment is “Dismissal Mosaics,” aethermead’s natural resolution. Over simple acoustic guitar and bare piano embellishments that recall the group’s early days, Barnes finally sounds at peace as he reflects on the downfall of his relationship (“As you build your new nest/I'll remember us at our best/To hell with the rest”).

So, aethermead ends with a sign of hope, yes, but also a frustrating reminder of a songwriting talent that is all too frequently dwarfed by a penchant for self-indulgence.

Aethermead is out now via Polyvinyl.