In any commentary of Animal Collective alumni Panda Bear’s music, it has seemed almost obligatory to draw comparisons to the Beach Boys visionary Brian Wilson. At first I had the feeling that such associations were trite, lazy and only about half-true. With the release of Panda Bear’s fourth LP, Tomboy, it has become obvious that the comparison really is too perfect to pass up.
In the ’60s, Brian Wilson channeled an emotional simplicity into his music that was and has largely remained unmatched to this day. His introspective style of sonic exploration radically shifted what many thought was possible in music, and his sound found perfection in his near-schizophrenic need for self-expression. Panda Bear follows suit on Tomboy, finding a strange kind of solace in his own layered harmonic crooning and ethereal, otherworldly rhythms.
When the first melodic blasts serenely pound on opener “You Can Count on Me,” it is immediately obvious that Tomboy approaches a vastly different emotional and aural territory then the one explored on his previous LP, Person Pitch. Much of Panda Bear and Animal Collective’s work retain a sunny quality, occasionally dipping into brooding moods but always resolving into a sense of peace. Here that breezy closure is replaced by a sullen questioning that never seems to find any answers.
That uncertainty forms among the album’s heavy guitar driven drone and minimalist instrumentation that leaves much of the storytelling to Panda Bear’s voice. Most of the tracks only have a singular guitar or piano line layered over repetitive percussion, while the bulk of the song lies within wildly shifting vocal harmonies.
The heavy emphasis on singing proves to be both Tomboy‘s most notable asset and most obvious criticism. Panda Bear’s chord changes are unmistakably brilliant, and his melodic structures are so skillfully dense that they demand multiple listens.
However, this same density makes it difficult for any of the songs to actually get stuck in your head. Tomboy can only really be appreciated through a series of serious and careful listens, which has the potential to alienate any listeners who aren’t initially drawn in enough to give the album another chance.
There are a few exceptions with tracks like “Alastian Darn” and “Surfer’s Hymn,” which hark back to the bouncy vibe that made Person Pitch such a widespread success. Even if Tomboy doesn’t offer that sense of instant gratification, there is an immense reward in giving the album the serious attention it deserves, because Panda Bear creates the kind of music that no one else can.
