If I took every opportunity I had to blogtastically decimate every band that pushes out shite like a hungry lion waiting in the brush for a limping gazelle, I'd be like the Oprah of ass kick. Only not so obsessed with the spotlight. Even more rare are those occasions when an album sneaks through the stereo screens that needs worship and tribute. Like the thirteenth coming of Christ, (I might be off by a few, it's been a while) MGMT's new drop does not disappoint.
I'm warning you now, this post gets deep. In the same spirit of Socrates with a hangover, I'm going to be lambasting your eyes with an intellectual assault brazen enough to make Bazan sound like Seacrest.
I found myself asking myself to myself in my own room by myself the other day, "why does music have to go through all the trouble to make itself so listenable?"
Why must an artist succumb to society's pressure to produce something that is even slightly reminiscent of time signature, tonal structure, and vocal dynamic understanding? Are we all so selfish that we demand music be for our enjoyment?
And then, as if by divine appointment, MGMT bushwhacks the music scene with an album that says "we don't give a damn what you like. Here's a few tracks we crapped out while strung out on shrooms, Fun Dip and absinthe."
I'm initially hesitant, knowing the success of their last album among messenger bag toting hipsters and TOMS-wearing alts alike. Their bubble gum dance anthems swept the club floor like cancer with a bass track in months past.
But now, as if compelled by some gnarly god of indie, MGMT cuts the dance music in favor of something far more magical.
Bat shit.
It's a move so bold that I stand before you a stunned mammalfish. Gone is the attention to detail, the concern with infectious hooks or rhythmic comprehension. It's the musical equivalent of VanWyngarde throwing some tunes in a blender, hitting "ice crush" and throwing it all on a muddy canvas. Made of snakes and unicorns.
It's so good I don't even want to listen to it. I mean, of course I like it. I'm definitely in that cognitive elite that so "gets" it. Yet, for some reason, I can't find a single song I even remotely desire to have playing through the halls of my humble abode. Probably because I don't want to scratch the record or anything. Yeah, that's totally it.
Musically, it's a crotch shot to the fans that gives the middle finger to corporate America, Malaysian sun bears (finally), the oil industry, and the Second Amendment. The album art is so thought-provoking, I've made it the desktop background of my iPad (that I still hate, you corporate pigs).
Congratulations, MGMT (pun certainly intended).
Thank you for taking a dump on my music.
It was most certainly needed.
Now just sit back and collect the checks.
You deserve them.
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