What feeling does this album give you?

What feeling does this album give you?

itchy

its a nice album

it makes me feel like a forest

Sweltering heat and disorienting brightness.

Dreamy and emotional

I heard dropping acid and going into the forest is what that cover looks like.


Anyways the record is like an anxiety attack, everything is still but almost pulsing and then it suddenly strikes.

feel like shouting for no reason

This....is oddly accurate. Plus fluffy shouting creatures and magic everywhere.

it's v atavistic

Not at all

It's like being part of a small tribe in a dense forest where everybody wears masks, speaks in an unknown language, and do ritual dances every night accompanied by tribal drums and other instruments

You're also all on a shitload of drugs all the time

relaxed at some points and super hyper at others. it's honestly an huge mix of emotions. amazing album.

>this album
>provides no name

Animal Collective - Here Comes The Indian

The name is on the cover, dingus.

>not knowing how to reverse image search
>being on Sup Forums and not being familiar with AnCo's album art

Could somebody please explain to me what conceptual link "Native Belle" could possibly have with "Too Soon"? Is there anybody who honestly believes this isn't just a collection of re-recorded B-sides, placed in random order with a hipster-friendly cover and a nonsensical name? That Animal Collective's addled brains didn't simply run out of creativity around 2 years ago, and after the utter flop of Danse Manatee they've now given up writing truly new music altogether?

I know this is a pasta. But both are instrumentally homogeneous and both give this eerie feeling of ignorance, like daydreaming about something or someone you love.

"Native Belle" is the dawn. On the horizon through the trees, the sun slowly climbs in the sky. Its light paints the once-black canvas of the sky first a dark blue, then a light blue, and as the sun finally rears its head, the forest is bathed in its orange shine. The natives begin their chants, calling all those still sleeping to embrace the day. The beat of their drums pulse, and their tribesmen yell to rise. But the dawn is the most transient part of the day, and just as soon, it is morning.

"Hey Light" has all the natives awake, in ever growing ecstasy as the day has finally come. Chieftains bark as the day breaks, and soon the whole tribe is engulfed in screaming joy. Children yelp, mothers whine. But this quickly dissipates as the day grows brighter, and all as one the natives sing praise to the daylight, a never ending miracle, driving away the darkness of the night, leading them to smile again. The men lope into the woods, to scout and to hunt, leaving the women, the old, and the children at camp.

"Infinite Dressing Table" is the story of those that remain to attend to the daily needs of the tribe. Though the day goes on, it is still young. The mothers tend to their children, who gather wood at the edge of camp to prepare for the darkness of night. The old ones, too weak to hunt, simply sit. One can hear the rattle of routine and the rising songs of the busy, the sound reaching far through the trees until they cease with distance, and the creeping stillness of the forest reclaims its silence.

I've seen this before

"Panic" is the story of those that went out, deep in the woods. The bellowing cry of the hunter is echoed by the howling of his dogs and the screams of his quarry. The bleating of beasts surrounds him, becoming one with his hearty vocalizations. Soon he sits to skin his kill, and sings a song to the thing that gave its life so that he and his family may continue living, until even that trails off and only the calls of the carrion birds can be heard. It is now noon, and the sun hangs over head, encircled by those flying figures.

"Two Sails on a Sound" follows the scouts who travel even farther, having taken their canoe to the river. The pair of scouts move down the slowly flowing water, the buzz of insects screaming from the edge of the river. They allow their minds to wander, their slow methodical breaths harmonizing with the light breeze that carries them. The sheer expanse causes the noise of the forest to reverberate around them, the sun still high in the sky but now hanging at their backs.

"Slippi" is the call to return, the second great joy of the day. Children run to their fathers, who raise them high and swing them with pride. The feast of the kill begins, and so does the dancing and the singing. All is cloaked in a darker yellow as the sun prepares to sink, but for the time being still shares its power with the natives. There is laughter and chanting in the afternoon.

"Too Soon" is the dusk, the twilight of the encroaching evening. The insects seem louder now, attracted to the fires lit to fight the night. Together the tribe unites to sing a final song, a sad goodbye to the day, a lament of the night to come. For it seems that the night comes too soon, that the day comes too soon.