With their recent release Oracular Spectacular, MGMT have sprung up out of no where to bring a little electro-pop-psychedelic-funk-trip hop chaos into your headphones. Thanks.
I really think these guys might be crazy. On the album cover, Ben Goldwasser and Andrew Van Wyngarden look like graffiti reincarnated into tribal figures. On the inside fold they’re covered with syrup, and sticking fake money onto their bare chests. If this is the image of innovative music, that’s fine with me. Just don’t go hanging out with MGMT in dark alleys.
Delving right in, I find MGMT sound like they look—a schizophrenic with an identity crisis, a freewheeling child with multiple personality disorder. They sound like every song from my iPod’s morning shuffle playing simultaneously. The result is daringly experimental. They’re crazy enough to try anything, it seems.
Recorded with Flaming Lips producer Dave Fridmann, Oracular Spectacular is a 40-minute foray into complex, elaborate party music. But that really isn’t saying it all. MGMT demands far too many adjectives.
The opening track is an uplifting, but not even necessarily positive, song about living fast and dying young. “I’ll miss the animals and playgrounds and digging up worms/ I’ll miss the comfort of my mother and the weight of the world.” They’re like really poetic children – children who know what oracular means. (For my fellow dimwits: o-rac-u-lar [adjective] – uttered or delivered as if divinely inspired; ambiguous; obscure.) Although not entirely obscure, the album holds it down on the ambiguous front. As far as divine inspiration, I suppose we’ll all have to wait and see.
I am thrilled at the chance to be reminded of David Bowie. I mean seriously reminded of Ziggy Stardust-era Bowie, every few seconds, especially on Weekend Wars. I want to play these songs for my prog-rock-loving father, who thinks video really did kill the radio star.
As I continue through my listen of this so-called spectacular, I realise song names like The Youth and Kids confirm my schizophrenic toddler theory. The Youth is dreamy and goes out on some pretty intense musical limbs, weaving in classical influences and an anthemic chorus. It’s restrained, but always building. The bass offers up a heavy cushion at just the right time, jazz guitars float on top, and echoed vocals filter into your soul, man. I swear. Kids combines super catchy melodies with crunchy techno beats, and adds an enchanting twist of baroque organ in the bridge. Once again the formula is right, and the experiment has gone well.
Electric Feel gets all funky on your ass, reminding us all that sometimes it’s really fun to dance in front of a mirror. This song holds on to the disco party style almost entirely, but the addition of synths sampled from Men At Work’s Land Down Under and MGMT’s staple distortion make it distinctly original.
As the name suggests, 4th Dimensional Transition is a trip down psychedelia lane (no pun intended). Of Birds Moons and Monsters calls on The Mamas and the Papas with some hippy dippy choral harmonies, but have no fear – MGMT do not lose their edge for a second. The (really cool) effects on The Handshake create a celestial atmosphere, and one of the most pensive moments on the album. Before too long, the chorus bursts onto the scene, and it’s back to classic MGMT exuberance.
Things come to a close with Future Reflections, which is pretty epic and a little self-indulgent. It’s been a while since I’ve been this sad for an album to end. Repeat. Often.
BANDBITCH
said ages ago