Grizzly Bear - "Veckatimest"

Congratulations, Grizzly Bear. You've made the jump from no-name indie psych-folk band to bona fide iTunes-home page release feature. Such things are, of course, to be expected when you open for Radiohead and get legions of scoffing hipsters cramming your shows and following Ed Droste on Twitter. It's natural progression for any artist to want to improve and mature upon previous efforts so a broader mainstream audience can also enjoy their music. For instance, they've cleaned up the sound, and all but lost that whispering cabin-like chill that ran through Yellow House (2006). I loved that aspect, but can deal with it being gone as long as the structure, creativity, and underlying idea of a Grizzly Bear album is still there. That idea is a forlorn quietness expressed through a lush layer of instrumentation and swooning vocals, and thankfully, it's still there. Yes, the inevitable Grizzly Bear train into the mainstream is chugging along full steam, but they haven't compromised what made them great in the first place. And that is commendable.

New sound, fame, and popularity aside, Veckatimest provides the listener with a unique challenge: it forces you to choose between Ed Droste or Daniel Rossen as a vocalist. One will undoubtedly come out on top, as if there were an unspoken competition for "lead singer of Grizzly Bear." Here, they split duties pretty evenly, but for me, Rossen wins. Too often, Droste melts into the harmonies ("Two Weeks"), whereas Rossen sings with the coarse, melodic sound of a 75-year old trapped in a 26-year old's body. He stands out, and uses that grandfatherly diction in songs like "Southern Point" and "While You Wait For the Others." Rossen's voice adds to the building, almost-breaking tension of these songs, and, to me, sets the Grizzly Bear vocal precedent from hereon in.

In Veckatimest, Grizzly Bear have obviously grown into their sound, and as much as I hate the term "chamber-pop," it may be a good metaphor to describe this 12-track offering. I still might prefer the creaky-wood floor cabin-pop of Yellow House, but in this case, transformation by way of sound, but not idea, is a pretty good follow-up.