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of Montreal, Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer? (2007)
Barnes has always made music that is captivatingly complex. He churns out hooks, and he crams musical ideas and experimentation into every song he writes. Whether you like of Montreal's music or hate it, you'll be hard-pressed to call it boring. And in Hissing Fauna, Barnes makes tunes so danceable it's nearly kitsch, with charming lyricism honed to an emotional height.
"The Past Is A Grotesque Animal" is the album's mid-point, as well as arguably its emotional climax. It glories in twelve minutes of mournful synth wailing and Barnes's lyricism at its absolute best. He is able to fold the mystic and strange into the everyday misery of regret. Even his own intelligence is reason for reproach—perhaps marrying "the first cute girl that I met / Who could appreciate Georges Bataille" is too cerebral to be wise. But it's the beautiful ringing, circular melodies of the song that reveal of Montreal's true talent—turning digital music tools into sonic forces invested with emotional power. The synth-y, witticism-filled songs of Montreal records can sometimes feel disconnected from a personal base, but in Hissing Fauna, that disconnect collapses into a very human feeling indeed—self-loathing. All Barnes has left at this crucial juncture is his singing machines. "The past is a grotesque animal, and in its eyes you see / How completely wrong you can be."
If you needed a break after that—understandable. And with his Shakespearian ability to oscillate between high drama and farce, Barnes provides it. In the next four songs, Barnes weaves narratives of short-lived, cringey romantic encounters. He rejects potential lovers ("Bunny Ain't No Kind of Rider") and is rejected (naturally, in "She's a Rejecter"); he sings about hookups and creates a wriggly, difficult, even uncomfortably enthusiastic sexuality ("Faberge Falls for Shuggie" and "Labyrinthian Pomp"). Although these songs are considerably more upbeat than the album's A-side, the specter of doom hangs over all of them. "She's a Rejecter," the penultimate song, slides seamlessly into "We Were Born The Mutants Again With Leafling," a return to the album's earlier shivering fears of loneliness. And doesn't it make perfect sense that rejection would remind us of failures? Of Montreal uses the album to its fullest formal potential, and Hissing Fauna has a narrative and emotional arc that pays off without sacrificing the integrity of any single song.
This album rewards multiple listens, so even if you've heard it before, I urge you to give it another spin. And if you haven't—and you like your pop music weird, pretentious, and wily—then I highly recommend this masterpiece.