Animal Collective - Hollinndagain (Album Review)

 

Animal Collective - Hollinndagain

(2002)

My copy: 2017 reissue by My Animal Home.

Though Hollinndagain did not feature core member Deakin, it was retroactively branded as an Animal Collective record similar to other early releases in the band’s catalog. Hollinndagain is unique, however, for being entirely composed of live recordings, with the first half being ripped from a radio performance while the second half is collected from various live shows. Hollinndagain is their first true live record, though it is often associated with both Danse Manatee and Ark (Here Comes The Indian) for their similarly noisy and feverish styles. While the first half of Hollinndagain wows for its hypnotic use of lo-fi repetition, the batch of live performances are victims of soupy mixes and less cohesive structures. 

What begins as background string finnicking on “I See You Pan” rises slowly in density until a wall of gravelly crunching noise seizes in, constricting the vocals that quietly arise with a thunderous churning like wood bending and snapping. Stray synth notes seem to invite the idea of melody as the vocals start to take control over the noise. The static is eventually defeated as psychedelic vocal hiccups are stretched via delay into a simmering atmosphere that leads directly into “Pride And Fight” which is marked by the introduction of hand-slapping and more normal vocal passages. A tinny guitar breaks into repeated strums with booming tom drums; the track is essentially a trial of repeated rhythms that are only affected in circulating timbres and spiraling effects. The tempo does pick up at one point with tribal aggression as the performers wretch and shout over fast-paced drumming. The track resets as a chant for the next song mounts. 

Crazed cymbal smashing is countered by distorted bass drums on the surprise attack intro of “Forest Gospel,” where the dynamics collapse and rebuild like a primal roller coaster ride. Feeble vocals spout nonsense in harmony with Avey Tare’s tripped-out mantra, over what is Animal Collective’s closest brush with industrial music. Though the majority of the record is distorted, the droning and buzzing synth tones do show a flair for sweet melody, as do the occasionally soothing vocal moments. If you aren’t one for semi-pretentious, acid-trip-college-student-noise, and you weren’t totally lost in the beginning, the next batch of tracks will steer you off the trail immediately. “There’s An Arrow” is the only glimmer of fragility with reeling percussive snaps and gentle whistling melody bursts. The music is then overwhelmed and hijacked by growing sirens and feedback with drums, until the ethereal moaning of “Lablakely Dress” takes over.

The warm synth drones do help to keep the music grounded, though the wailing tremolo vocals get a bit tiring after a while. Shuddering cicada drones help but the repeated pow-wow shouts also wear on patience at this point. The final two tracks really start to lose the plot, with audience chatter appearing clearer in the mix than the dramatic eruptions of “Tell It To The Mountain” and “Pumpkin Gets A Snakebite,” ruining the dynamics. There are interesting synth highlights, but things mostly melt into a mush of experimental whooping and clambering. 

While it is not the most interesting or well produced of the early Animal Collective offerings, Hollinndagain does produce its own strange and unique sound by virtue of its live nature. In addition to the lo-fi sound, most of the songs available were never brought into the studio, making these the only available versions. Hollinndagain is the musical equivalent of crawling slowly through a tunnel of heat-absorbent rugs in some tent at burning-man as hippies chant and screech around you: you’ll either find some kind of spiritual elation, or feel repulsed and terrified.