Just over a month ago, Pitchfork awarded Animal Collective’s Merriweather Post Pavillion an astonishing – and rare – score of 9.6 out of 10. It’s a fairly safe bet that Pitchfork won’t give a higher score all year (well, unless Radiohead magically release a new effort…but that ain’t gonna happen). Other reviewers have already called Merriweather a ‘landmark’ album, ‘one of the greatest achievements of the decade,’ and other hyperbolic praise.

As expected, nothing could live up to the hype that’s already been bestowed upon these intrepid avant-gardists. Avey Tare and Panda Bear, the group’s two explorers, have created their most ‘pop’ album, and thus their most accessible, though Animal Collective are still a loooong way away from radio airplay.

Pitchfork got one thing right in their review: this is one of those albums where any track could be a favourite. There aren’t any stand-out weak spots, and just about every track has something to like (and occasionally love) in them. At the same time, though, Merriweather has the effect of keeping you lightly sedated instead of both challenged and sedated. While listening to it, I found myself enjoying small phrases of songs, but then feeling confused as the memory of said phrases disappeared from my mind as soon as the next track slithered in.

Merriweather is not so much a regression from their previous album (Strawberry Jam), as much as a detour. It’s an aggressively ‘summer’ album, meant to convey a relaxed mood of a hot day as evening falls and you’re wondering what to do with yourself. Like what The Beach Boys would sound like if they were produced by Christian Fennesz.

Indeed, “My Girls” casts an exhilarating spell with a very fast downward arpeggio, repeated over and over against a barrage of percussion and the voices of those two oddballs. “Summertime Clothes” is the closest thing the band gets on the album to memorable lyrics (‘You close my rest with a saccharin sheen/Kissing my wind through my window screen’).

Okay, so that’s all fine enough. But while every track has the capacity to appeal, every track also has the capacity to lag. Panda Bear’s “Daily Routine” seems to stumble along slowly before reaching a beautiful, shimmering finale. “Taste” has a tranquil feeling that is dampened by a repeated lyric in the coda: “Am I really all the things that are outside of me?” It’s sung without conviction, like a cool phrase that sounds only mildly interesting, rather than something that pulls the song through.

And therein lies the problem with Merriweather (and, broadly, with Animal Collective in general): frustration. Good ideas are undercut by bizarre tics that render the songs forgettable, and allow a repetition to slip through. The song structures of the band are reminiscent of Arcade Fire or Brian Eno, wherein the songs start loud and get louder rather than starting quiet and getting louder.

That’s interesting. But at the same time, the actual songwriting suffers from the monotony of the album as a whole. Just about all of the eleven tracks follow the same formula: a wispy synthesizer hook, dreamy vocals fading in and out, and percussion coming in counterpoint to it all. And again and again.

And is it just me, or do Panda Bear and Avey Tare need more distinct voices? Now, I understand that Animal Collective’s music has never been about singing (let alone lyrics), but it would be nice if one of them at least had an interesting voice to carry it all through the dreamy atmospheres they’ve created. It can end up sounding a bit callow otherwise.

I hope I’m not conveying that the record isn’t enjoyable. It is. But it’s a record that doesn’t permeate your mind in any distinct way, and is not a record that’s going to ‘define the decade.’ 9.6? Please.

[Dumb analogy] Merriweather Post Pavillion is like a collage that looks nice at first glance, but then dwindles away from your memory as soon as you’ve turned away from it. [/dumb analogy]