of Montreal Paralytic Stalks
“It’s fucking sad that we need a tragedy to gain a fresh perspective on our lives.”–Kevin Barnes (“Spiteful Intervention”)
For those who haven’t been paying attention, consider this a brief update. In the beginning, there was Kevin Barnes, a musical wunderkind from Athens, Georgia. Barnes started a band called Of Montreal, engulfed himself in the local Elephant 6 musical collective and released several albums of fractured, psyche-pop. Some were good, some not so much. In 2006, Barnes emerged from a personal crisis completely overhauled with the brilliant Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer?, his most well-received, emotionally revealing, and important work. For it was on this album, in particular during the 12-minute single-chord meditation “The Past Is A Grotesque Animal,” that Barnes gave birth to Georgie Fruit, and forged a creative trajectory that, to my knowledge, is unparalleled in pop music. Georgie Fruit is Barnes’ sexually curious, ambiguously funked-out alter ego, a multi-gendered ex-con who played in a 1970s funk band called Arousal (I’m not making this up.) Skeletal Lamping (2008) plays like a Jekyll and Hyde match – freakishly scatterbrained tracks with shifting personalities mid-chorus as Barnes and Fruit wrestle for artistic control. These struggles take place mid-song. The effect was quite disorienting and resulted in a rather unlistenable record. False Priest (2010) was straight-up Georgie Fruit – total funk vamp complete with slap bass and Prince-aping innuendo. Barnes had, at this point, surrendered completely to his other self. We were now dealing with a band within a band. I know what you’re all thinking: Bowie, Ziggy Stardust. This is a little different. Bowie used characters like Stardust and The Duke as a lark, as a way to branch out artistically and fuck with his audience. He always maintained a rigid sense of control. With Barnes, we’re not so sure. Barnes’ motivation seems more personal, his revelations darker, and the results more therapeutic. Paralytic Stalks, then, is Barnes returning to self. Which is great for listeners because it means less confusion and genre-pandering and more direct confessionals. This is the best Of Montreal record since Hissing Fauna by a long shot. Musically, the tracks are brilliantly produced and highly engaging. The melodies are abundant and offered eagerly, even if they do soundtrack lyrics of incredible sadness and reckoning. Barnes’ writing is not for everyone; he doesn’t care much about conventional rhyme scheme or meter but more than makes up for it with an astonishing level of first-person honesty. It often feels like eavesdropping, listening to his songs. In the end, we bid a sad farewell (I think) to Georgie Fruit via the 13-minute “Authentic Pyrrhic Remission,” a song that starts simply and ends amid shattering bedlam. A single, revealing sentiment ends the song, closes the record, and seems to bring this whole fascinating mess to a close: “Til this afternoon I was an exile/but now that word is obsolete. There are no nations/no concept of ego. Our illumination is complete.” Read that how you will, but I think he’s found peace. I hope he has.