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Indie rockers deliver muddled, indulgent 11th outing

Athens, Georgia is known for producing good music. After all, R.E.M., The B-52's, Widespread Panic and other musical greats have all called Athens home at one time or another. Of Montreal, a group which has never been afraid to bend and push the limits of the indie, pop and psychedelic genres, is another of those bands. As the flagship of the Elephant 6, a collective of notable indie bands, Of Montreal has continually pushed the envelope, incorporating unpredictable instrumentals, as well as the unmistakable falsetto voice of lead singer Kevin Barnes. Their newest album, Paralytic Stalks, is no exception. Yet unlike some of the band's earlier albums, this new addition to their discography fell disappointingly short.

Even on a good day, Of Montreal isn't easily accessible. There is always an overwhelming amount of information, both lyrical and musical, to sift through. Take, for example, the final song on Paralytic Stalks: "Authentic Pyrrhic Remission." The song starts off with a half minute's worth of erratic instruments blurting out sounds sporadically and painfully like an obnoxious elementary school girl who always shouts out the answer without raising her hand. Then, as expected, Barnes' falsetto-filled verse starts, rambling with the only decipherable message, "I love how we're learning from each other." Then, around the four-minute mark, the song descends into an abrasive series of long, drawn-out noise. How drawn-out? Try seven minutes. At a total length of more than thirteen minutes, "Authentic Pyrrhic Remission" comes off as totally inaccessible and is not worth a listen.

I generally love Of Montreal's unorthodox sound. Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer? (2007) and Skeletal Lamping (2008) were downright great albums. And who can forget their 2005 hit "Wraith Pinned to the Mist and Other Games," which was adapted for an Outback Steakhouse commercial. Let's go Outback tonight? That's the song.

But Paralytic Stalks utterly lacks any great single, or even a semblance of cohesiveness. Sure, I applaud Kevin Barnes for inviting us to take a journey through his mind and his heart while he has some kind of midlife crisis, but it quickly becomes painfully clear no one in his right mind would want to venture through Barnes's psyche.

If you can make it past the first song on the album, "Gelid Ascent," you hit "Spiteful Intervention," where Barnes yelps, "It's f---ing sad that we need a tragedy to occur to gain a fresh perspective in our lives." What little bit of emotional healing might be gained from the song, however, is locked away behind a nearly impenetrable wall of screeching sounds.

There are occasional moments on every song where Of Montreal turns down the noise and becomes tolerable. But these moments are fleeting and do not nearly begin to make up for the rest of the album.

Of Montreal has always been a little weird, but this album is simply too much. If you're a diehard Elephant 6 fan or a sucker for men who sing falsetto, then go ahead and give Paralytic Stalks a try. Otherwise, avoid this album, just as cockroaches avoid light in the kitchen.

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