Dryvetyme Onlyne

Ghormeh Sabzi
Cockroach Graveyard
Paper Stamp; 2009

There’s a reason that, despite what the malcontents might say, the music of Animal Collective has reached a level of cultish fanaticism not seen in American pop music since The Grateful Dead at its peak. Now, I don’t lay any sort of claim to being a slavish devotee of the band (see the hilarious and cogent critique from Hipster Runoff earlier this year for more insight), but I would like to think that I’m able to recognize forward-thinking musicianship and artistry when I hear it. AnCo’s early work displayed an uncanny ability to break down key motifs in pop and rock music and then contort them into all manner of fuzz-drenched psychedelic tunes. And it’s that skill that Houston, TX outfit Ghormeh Sabzi seems to possess in spades on the group’s debut release, Cockroach Graveyard.

Stringing together a collection of eight tracks that revel in the sorts of shapes and sounds that marked Sung Tongs (the AnCo record that dropped before the band’s breakout release, Feels), Ghormeh Sabzi dabbles liberally in trippy psych-pop, noise-core, drone, and free jazz. Heavy reverb drips from the caterwauling vocals, as a variety of samples (including one of Reverend Jeremiah Wright!), programming, and live percussion provide the beats for some first-rate surf-ish guitars. This is a highly arty and experimental record that requires the listener’s undivided attention so as to catch (hopefully) all of the elements at play and work in these songs.

My primary source of concern with Cockroach Graveyard is attempting to discern how Ghormeh Sabzi might go about playing this music in a live setting. Sure, it’s easy to press play on a laptop these days so that the samples and backing tracks are properly cued, but I’m not sure that an over-reliance on technology is the answer to how to perform such a brand of wigged-out pop tunes. Moreover, while I’m all for bands exploring the edges of pop music by way of quirky minimalism and deconstructed free jazz, but doing so will always create a rather imposing barrier for the average music fan to traverse in order to “get” what’s happening.

Much like Avey Tare and Panda Bear eventually incorporated a more traditional pop framework into AnCo’s aesthetic, Ghormeh Sabzi is at its best on straight-forward cuts like “Silly Sad Love” and “Starry Dynamo” where the group’s ambitious weirdness is much more focused and distilled. What I like most about Cockroach Graveyard are the grimy, seedy production values that truly accentuate the band’s overall sound – if you’re going to step outside the box when making music, you might as well do so at a full sprint.