Most times I silently curse social pressure for making me feel guilty for having, for all intents and purposes, abandoned my Jewish roots or because I wonder if I ever want children or also for feeling like an outsider because of whatever weirdo tastes I've cultivated over my lifetime, and often, I feel I have to prove myself to people, that I can indeed be a part of mass culture, whether it be intentionally seeing some blockbuster film or following sports intermittently so that I can make small talk—in the end, I find that I can only ignore the social pressure for so long; that because I am human and do live in society, that for a good amount of my interactions I am going to have to play by their rules, even if I don't really want to.
While I have made art in the public sphere and have let that art be subject to criticism, I have never done something that could be considered obscure or esoteric, that, while it may not have been to everyone's likings, it was still relatively accessible. I say this all because I wonder if artists who do make truly esoteric or strange art, if they ever feel the same social pressure that makes an individual feel the need to conform, if they feel it pressuring them to make more accessible works. I remember writing the review for Stephen Malkmus's Pig Lib where I questioned whether his turn to a more storytelling-style of lyricism was due to too many fans asking what he meant, and I wonder too if Campfire Songs is not the Animal Collective's reaction to the kind of social pressure that we all feel, the artistic realm so obviously lying within the public one. The other possibility is one that lies close to this one, that they feel inclined to make music like this because they enjoy it, that raised on whatever music they were raised on that they feel the force of history bearing down upon them, whether the melancholy of nostalgia or the impetus of the past itself (a kind of irrational urge that compels many an artist to "revisit their roots").
Spirit They've Gone, Spirit They've Vanished and Danse Manatee were both, what I suppose is termed electro-acoustic, infusing, as one would guess from the term, acoustic guitars with various electronics, from keyboards to eerie, sci-fi tinniness to processed vocals, but as with all good art, there was more there than an interesting instrumental arrangement. Avey Tare and company were involved in an intense deconstruction of music, yet one that never lost sight of what it is to make songs—which sounds like a seeming paradox, but it worked; these albums were the perfect combination of intellectual ideas and something that was at its core enjoyable simply as music. Which is why Campfire Songs seems so normal in comparison. While I wouldn't call it an overly accessible album, the fact that it still sounds like the Animal Collective minus much innovation and electronics, it does seem less interesting than the two albums mentioned above.
To their credit though, Campfire Songs is an apt name in that if Avey Tare, Panda Bear and the others were indeed to sit around a bonfire singing songs, one does envision this as the soundtrack, so as a cohesive package, this album gets high marks. And the music is still good; it has the same airiness, that sense that it is hovering, that the other albums have, and the vocals have the same specter-like quality, and it is still intriguing. Shall it be damned for not being as compelling as their other work though? Well, slightly.
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