Collegiate Times

There was a time when rock stars and music industry executives were commanding the cultural agenda. As the Boss, Prince and David Bowie were once the engine of popular culture, the music industry has since been juggling digital downloads and social networking outlets that have leveled the playing field.

The recession has hardly left anyone untouched. EMI (Electric & Musical Industries Lt.) reportedly had a 20 percent decrease in CD sales and slashed more than 2,000 jobs in the last year. The music industry was previously considered the biggest payoff in entertainment outside of film, but all five of the major labels are in trouble, either losing money or barely breaking even.

But it's a highly competitive business, and it appears that indie groups with little background have brought some confusion to the balance sheet. As these industries try to realign and reinvent their book business approach to recapture today's market, the demand for new avenues of promotion grows ever so eager. But more importantly, the industries seek to recapture the voice of today's generation.

This means to stay afloat, you have to must innovate. For starters, all Greatest Hits records should be live recordings (with the exception of posthumous releases). Do people really want to purchase singles they've heard over and over again?

That's where the erratic music collective known as Animal Collective comes in. The eighth studio album, "Merriweather Post Pavilion," is a 55-minute nod to a venue in Columbia many of us have been. The psychedelic lineup combines melodic trips with watery electronics, ecstatic vocal interplay all grounded with a techno anchor.

While their lineup in not uniform, the Baltimore, Md., natives have inevitably built up some hype. Dubbed "one of the finest American records of our generation" by music magazines two months before its release, the press had Portland punks biting their nails.

Categorizing "Merriweather Post Pavilion" is a balancing act on its own. Experimental? Freak folk? Indie rock? Neo-psychedelic? The cover art based on Japanese psychologist Akiyoshi Kitaoka work says it all -- they've already made sure to catch your eye.

An Animal Collective record is a journey, and it'll be a treat for urban tribal fans.

The opening, "In the Flowers," feels like kicking before you enter sandman.

"A dancer who was high in a field from a moment, caught my breath on my way home, couldn't stop that spinning force," resonates singer Avery Tare. "I fell into you, everything drowns you to giggle, you are up with the flower and I care."

It's sappy, but the spectral electronics and color mold the message into a viscous whole.

"My Girls" has infinite spine-tickling electronics compromising with sonic hallucinogenic vocals. The song is proof that Animal Collective has created a foundation based on linear progressions and song structure. Yeah it's linear, but it's become tangent long ago. The Dead would be proud.

 Animal Collective still has the same familiar conviction shown in "Taste" and a juicy exotic vibe in "Brother Sport" but struggle to conjure up some sort of definite progression throughout the record. Shortcomings in "No More Running" and "Lion in a Coma" characterize the lucid murkiness that's decidedly off putting.

When they're at their best, Animal Collective provides a phenomenal show of visual metaphors that will surely impress those on the international stage. But no one said this batch was as fresh as the ones we got last time.