| Pitchfork |
The first song on Fall Be Kind, Animal Collective's new five-song EP, is called "Graze", and it starts with a colorful swirl of Disneyfied strings as Dave Portner (aka Avey Tare) sings teasing lines like "Let me begin" and "Let light in" and "Some ideas are brewing." The song seems to be partly about the struggle of creation-- grazing on the imagination, maybe-- and then Noah Lennox (Panda Bear) comes in with his thick, honeyed voice to sing a bridge that seems a distant cousin of the Beach Boys' "Don't Talk (Put Your Head on My Shoulder)". There's tension in this opening section; the words and music suggest a sticking point, something that needs to be punctured before the song (and ideas) can really flow. And then it happens, the break, but in an unexpected way: a peppy flute melody materializes and the rhythm becomes a kind of stomp that seems designed to inspire folk dancing, while Portner and Lennox pick up the tempo and start singing rounds: "Why do you have to go?/ Why do you have to go?"The first time through, hearing "Graze" explode into this weird sing-along RenFaire jig is a bit of a shock. It sounds very far from what we imagine a hip, frequently name-checked indie band with abrasive experimental roots to sound like. And their performance of it is certainly not tongue-in-cheek: They sound joyful, and they're not smirking. (I'm not sure they're capable of that particular expression, to be honest.) And thus it becomes clear that Animal Collective, despite having become a certain kind of alt touchstone in 2009, doesn't much care about conventional notions of cool. If they want to get dorky and put in a section that asks you to bust out the medieval garb and hop around on one leg for a minute, they'll do it. And maybe they'll put this song in the lead spot on an EP that follows up the biggest and most successful record of their career. All this went through my mind before finding out, after reading Fall Be Kind's credits, that the flute sample comes courtesy of an artist whose name became a punchline after an endless run of goofy TV spots advertising his music: Zamfir, the Master of the Pan Flute. Cool? These guys aren't sweating it....full text |
| Bbc |
| The final release of a year that’s been Animal Collective’s most successful yet, with their Merriweather Post Pavilion album a bona-fide critical hit, Fall Be Kind presents five new tracks that should further the band’s steady infiltration of the mainstream. While obviously the work of the same men who shaped Merriweather into such a brilliantly boisterous, bamboozling and beautiful collection of future-pop anthems, this is a standalone affair that requires recognition based on its own merits. Focusing on Animal Collective’s more ethereal soundscapes – closer to the underarm-tickle of Taste than the blitzkrieg bop of Brother Sport – Fall Be Kind is a disc to slip into, gently. If you’re yet to be moved by this act’s work, don’t expect this to prove an effective point of entry. Those who’ve followed the fortunes of the now New York-based Collective for some time, at least since their switch to Domino for 2007’s superb Strawberry Jam, will take this EP to heart immediately. Graze – which incorporates elements of Romanian pan-piper Gheorghe Zamfir’s Ardeleana – opens with a languid liquidity; a staple of the band’s recent live sets, the song’s one that compromises deep impact for the slightest impression. But the mark remains nonetheless, and is given greater detail once the track strikes its chattering, kaleidoscopic second half – gypsy vibes meets Brooklyn cool....full text |
| Sputnikmusic |
| To one who’s been following Animal Collective for the past couple years, it’s fitting that Animal Collective’s newest EP is called Fall Be Kind. On one level, you have the fact that Animal Collective has crafted a wondrous mini-album of songs that specifically recalls the wonders of autumn, just as Merriweather Post Pavilion did with winter, Strawberry Jam with summer, and Feels with spring. However, on another level, you can recognize the delicious irony of a band releasing an EP that is in every way not a fall from the heights they reached on Merriweather. Fall Be Kind is the sound of a band brimming with excitement at the reception to the swirling electro pop they brought to us on Merriweather, and they’ve expanded on it, pouring on the harmonies and thickening the beats that made Merriweather such a success. At first glance, the album (I might as well be calling it that for all its cohesiveness and unified purpose) sounds like Animal Collective at their most celebratory. Golden sunshine-y pop hooks are abound in Fall Be Kind, which of course make it easy to latch onto and delve into, much in the same way Merriweather was. However, unlike Merriweather, here there is a keen self awareness in Noah and Avey. Dripping from Fall Be Kind is the feeling of a niche carved, the album reveling in its trance elements yet maintaining a very distinctive, very addictive pop core. One of the things that makes Animal Collective so exciting is the band’s penchant for blending hypnotic passages with immediately striking melody, and this is no different on Fall Be Kind. “Graze” and “What Would I Want? Sky” both set up incredible payoffs with three minute crawls through dark forests before breaking into euphoric merriment that comes with the escape (check out that pan flute solo!). Animal Collective have retained that mastery of ecstatic excess and Fall Be Kind wants us to recognize it by throwing its most accessible tracks in the foreground. This trademark skill to convey sheer unadulterated joy is used liberally throughout the album, as Animal Collective encourages dancing and singing and general foolishness, and of course they get what they want. To remain still during the ending of “Graze” is to be inhuman. In fact, at first glance, it’s not so unreasonable to argue that Fall Be Kind might just be the brightest release of Animal Collective’s career....full text |
Animal Collective lyrics

The first song on Fall Be Kind, Animal Collective's new five-song EP, is called "Graze", and it starts with a colorful swirl of Disneyfied strings as Dave Portner (aka Avey Tare) sings teasing lines like "Let me begin" and "Let light in" and "Some ideas are brewing." The song seems to be partly about the struggle of creation-- grazing on the imagination, maybe-- and then Noah Lennox (Panda Bear) comes in with his thick, honeyed voice to sing a bridge that seems a distant cousin of the Beach Boys' "Don't Talk (Put Your Head on My Shoulder)". There's tension in this opening section; the words and music suggest a sticking point, something that needs to be punctured before the song (and ideas) can really flow. And then it happens, the break, but in an unexpected way: a peppy flute melody materializes and the rhythm becomes a kind of stomp that seems designed to inspire folk dancing, while Portner and Lennox pick up the tempo and start singing rounds: "Why do you have to go?/ Why do you have to go?"