Report: Panda Bear & Deakin Live in MD

The Animal Collective chaps roll up for a splendid evening of tunes at Baltimore's Ottobar on Sept. 12.

Text & Photos by Logan K. Young

A lot has changed for Noah Lennox (pictured above) since he left home.

For starters, the precocious kid from Roland Park goes by Panda Bear now. Long gone from the 410 suburbs, he currently lives in the picturesque Iberian city of Lisbon with his fashion designer wife and two kids of his own. And perhaps most importantly, the little basement band he started more than a decade ago with some other Waldorf kids has, for better or worse, become the face of American indie rock in the Pitchfork era - warts, and animal masks, and all. 

So it was hardly surprising to find the Ottobar sold out and already stuffed for Sunday's quixotic, but nonetheless entertaining openers DJ Dog Dick and Prince Rama.

And yet, there was still cause for concern.   

From his much maligned performance at Pitchfork's bash in July to his only slightly better showing in Los Angeles at FYF Fest earlier this month, Mr. Bear's been charged with a slew of invective not normally hauled at the Collective: listless, non-descript, torpid, and to put it boorishly, just plain bor-ing. Moreover, to this day, none of the species in the AnCo kingdom has been able to engender universal acclaim as a live, solo performer - thus lending credence to that whole sum-greater-than-parts jive. Regardless, as great an album like Person Pitch is, maybe it's just not meant to be heard in a 400-person capacity club. Like a lot of what passes as indie rock nowadays, it's as if the lion's share of work is indeed done at home a priori, with the live, in-person aspect nothing more than a ready-made cooking show of mashed pedals and turns on the knob.

To his credit though, Deakin, née Josh Dibb, proved to be a most excellent sous-chef for his headlining friend. Lennox and Dibb have been pals ever since a second grade Baltimore County classroom, and in the end, this pairing ultimately proved a better, more complementary choice than any Avey Tare or Geologist coupling. Truth be told, Deakin is the real native son here. It was back in January that he treated the Ottobar to his coming out party as a soloist - a gesture not soon forgotten judging by the hometown hoard's welcoming back. And while his catalog, understandably, remains a little thin, the sounds he created therein were as dense and as full-figured as anything Panda Bear would later conjure. And for at least twenty minutes anyways, there was only one Deacon of Charm City. 

Even the blogosphere needs a Sabbath, so alas, there was little buzz regarding what to expect for Panda Bear's prodigal gig. Not more than twenty-four hours earlier, Lennox had played Governor's Island while just across the bay in front of him, the Manhattan skyline was all aglow thanks to Mayor Bloomberg's 9/11 memorial. In Baltimore however, the fireworks were at the rear, care of ODDSAC director Danny Perez and his appropriately psychedelic projections (and expectedly reckless smoke machine operation). Compared to the FX découpage of old staples like "Comfy In Nautica" and "Song For Ariel," the newer fare such as "Tomboy" and "Slow Motion" sounded much more focused and straightforward. What this new found clarity does, of course, is further flaunt the one quality that none of the other guys in his day band can best him on - that voice. A curious timbre that's both siren and clarion, Panda Bear's voice could rightfully stand on its own. Perch it atop an intricate nest of guitar, synth and sample, and it sounds even more right. But be careful. Should he give it just the right amount of broken earnestness - as he so delicately did with "Ponytail" - Panda Bear's voice might just render your own mute.

And that would be a shame. For then you couldn't cheer one of Baltimore's most welcome returns since the Colts came back from Cleveland as the Ravens in 1996...the same year that Noah Lennox left for Boston.