Of Montreal Laments Heartbreak on “Aethermead”

Another one of Kevin Barnes’ emotionally vulnerable records

Of Montreal is a musical entity that defies the notion of ‘staying in one's lane.’ It’s remarkable to consider the whimsical baroque flourishes on albums like The Gay Parade and the synth-pop glitz of Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer?. All are by-products of songwriter Kevin Barnes channeling wherever their creative trajectory veers. Since abandoning fantasy characters and concepts during the group’s early years, they’ve never strayed from exposing the deepest depths of their psyche in a cryptic, hyperconfessional style with a hint of self-deprecation. A continuously evolving work ethic resulted in a prolific 30-year career that spawned a body of work akin to a modern-day Bowie-meets-Prince style of continuous reinvention. 

Aethermead is Of Montreal’s 20th studio record and another revealing account of Barnes’ personal life in recent years. It’s an album that resembles personal transformation, centered on their breakup with ex-fiance Christian Schneider of Locate S,1 and relocating to the Big Apple, where Barnes’ desires are, as described in “Dismissal Mosaics,” to be a star in New York, not a hick in Vermont.’ Their last ‘breakup’ album–Aureate Gloom from 2015–spat volatile prose about the comedown of their marriage to Nina Grøttland, and now, Barnes is lamenting a romantic loss to the woman they dub “My Zhe Zhe.” Song titles like “Listen to Music and Cry” and “Now We Cringe At The Thought” directly reference universal sentiments associated with heartbreak, while the lyrics to “When” exemplify sexual fulfillment in a no-strings-attached setting. Some of Barnes’ more colorful vocabulary comes through on a profound line from “From The Font of You”: ‘when you reject me, the mirror breaks into songs of awful clairvoyance.’ It’s here that Barnes acknowledges the practice that served as the creative basis of what listeners came to expect from Of Montreal: making art out of turmoil.

For the better part of the last five years, Of Montreal has embraced what I like to call ‘schizo pop,’ a subgenre full of dense electronic layers, abstract arrangements, and lacking substantial melodies. It’s made listening to recent albums like I Feel Safe with You, Trash and Freewave Lucifer F<ck F^ck F>ck feel like exercises in mental gymnastics when I knew that Kevin Barnes had the capability of still crafting melodically memorable material; Aethermead proves that. When album opener “Already Dreaming” swells in, natural instrumentation and Beatle-esque harmonies reflect a rootsy approach dating back to early albums like Cherry Peel, that haven’t been applied to Of Montreal’s sound since Lousy with Sylvianbriar.

Even the vocal harmonies on “Hack It Up” are lucious ear candy. Barnes’ Bowie influence comes through in their sultry vocal delivery on “My Zhe Zhe.” Aethermead’s more abrasive moments come on “Take The Form” and “When,” which feature whirly distorted guitars and driving rhythms. Tracks like “Lacan in the Family” and “Now We Cringe at the Thought” shapeshift between subdued verses and explosive choruses. This approach doesn’t make the album sound like some retro/nostalgic throwback, but rather as a particular lens that projects Barnes’ quirky writing/arranging style. A prime example is “Wanting on Air,” a track that could’ve stemmed from Of Montreal’s synthesized glam era of the mid-2000s, yet sounds more universal when guitars and pianos are applied. 

David Barnes–Kevin’s brother–is to Of Montreal what Hipgnosis was to Pink Floyd. His loud, flashy neon style has become synonymous with Of Montreal’s visual identity, both album artwork and theatrical stage shows. The bleak themes explored on Aethermead are reflected in its stark black-and-white gatefold artwork, making it almost impulsive to dig out some colored pencils and fill in the blanks. If the jacket or standard cloudy-clear vinyl doesn’t scream, then the Polyvinyl web store exclusive ‘Early Bird Edition’ limited to 600 and pressed on ‘Neon Orange in Cloudy Clear w/ Black and White Splatter’ does. 

A natural-sounding record like Aethermead makes for a three-dimensional listening experience. The bottom end is super warm and well-rounded, though it results in a slight high-end roll off. Regardless of this pressing’s default equalization, it still leaves some of the album’s more intricate elements to shine. Jojo Glidewell’s piano on “Already Dreaming” comes across pleasantly soft and establishes a jazzy atmosphere–when paired with Clayton Rychlik’s vibraphone–on “From the Font of You”; the room sound of Rychlik’s drums on “Having a Moment” is exceptional. Kevin Barnes and Ross Brand handle guitar duties, establishing auras of wonder on “Listen to Music and Cry” and crisp rhythmic styles on “To Nothing’s Reward.” Barnes’ vocals on “Hack It Up” are EQ’d to where they’re brought forward in the mix, and the dryness of “Dismissal Mosaics” makes them more intimate.

Considering the lightning speed at which the material on Aethermead came to be, Kevin Barnes didn’t waste time letting it sit and manifest into an entirely different outcome. It’s a pure snapshot of an emotionally vulnerable period in their life, making it another personable entry in the Of Montreal canon.