“Disconnect the Dots”
from the album Satanic Panic in the Attic
2004
iTunes
Download a free MP3 of “Disconnect the Dots” from the band’s website [right-click/save-as]
Of Montreal’s Satanic Panic in the Attic is one of those singular albums that is so richly dense, so unabashedly whimsical and so damned polished, a listener can’t resist sweeping all other albums from his or her desk and (metaphorically, of course) consummating one’s relationship with it via iPod’s vastly underappreciated “Repeat” feature.
Opener “Disconnect the Dots,” sated with twinkling piano chords and ethereal percussion, lulls one into a Technicolor netherworld where harmonics rule and not a spare measure passes unexploited. This is to constitute the landscape of Satanic. “Come disconnect the dots with me poppet,” Kevin Barnes sings, and even as I look up “poppet” in my OED, I find myself bobbing my head like an autistic kid.
If one were asked to name the defining trait of Satanic, the obvious choice would be Barnes’ elaborate vocal harmonies. While he doesn’t possess the greatest voice, Barnes, like The Beach Boys, readily manipulates it to great effect, sometimes disguising it as a woman’s (“City Bird”), a lounge singer’s (“Your Magic is Working”), or baring it a cappella (“Lysergic Bliss”).
As for reference points, there are almost too many to name. Acts like The Beach Boys, Ben Folds Five, Queen, Beck (circa Odelay) and even The Pixies can be found here. But clearly, Of Montreal has not aped these sounds so much as eaten them one by one like a ravenous Star Jones who happened upon a buffet, subsequently digesting the hodgepodge of influences into their own unique, irresistible brick, which, graciously, has been shat into our awaiting ears.
Panic drips creativity. Listen after listen only confirms that Barnes is an indie force to be reckoned with. Just try and remember to recharge your iPod’s batteries once in a while. “Repeat” doesn’t last forever and there’s nothing worse than sudden, chaffing silence. ~ R.S. Ross, Stylus Magazine
 Of Montreal |