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"  Originally published in the April issue      The first few times I heard &amp;quot;Slow Motion,&amp;quot; I swore that Panda Bear singer (and nom de plume) Noah Lennox was chanting over and over again, &amp;quot;It&amp;#039;s accounting.&amp;quot; The next few times, I thought he was saying, &amp;quot;It&amp;#039;s a guilty.&amp;quot; Sure, they&amp;#039;re not even the same number of words. They don&amp;#039;t sound anything alike. And neither mean much of anything on their own, or with the rest of the lyrics, which are equally impossible to make out. But one of Lennox&amp;#039;s trademarks \u2014 as inaccessible as it is fascinating \u2014 is to electronically process his singing into phonic oblivion. The outright unrecognizable brand of oblivion. In fact, &amp;quot;Slow Motion&amp;quot; sounds like the entire Arcade Fire set up shop in his throat and took turns tapping a tambourine against his larynx. It&amp;#039;s also the best song I&amp;#039;ve ever heard that I can only halfway sing along to.  Lennox is most well-known as one of the few consistent visionaries in the band Animal Collective. Across nine records, he&amp;#039;s helped orchestrate the transition of the group, which is a true collective, from intentionally freaky psychedelia to something far more complex, ambient, and otherworldly. At its worst, Animal Collective is esoteric for the sake of esotericism, musical for musicality&amp;#039;s sake. At its best, it&amp;#039;s the Beach Boys if they&amp;#039;d been led by five Brian Wilsons, not one. But &amp;quot;Slow Motion,&amp;quot; by Lennox&amp;#039;s Panda Bear side project, is more immediate, more instantly dazzling than anything Animal Collective has wrought. It&amp;#039;s still dreamy, but in a Wall of Sound way. And it&amp;#039;s a little bit hip-hop, a little bit reggae, allowing us to draw a clear line between it and M.I.A.&amp;#039;s &amp;quot;Paper Planes,&amp;quot; any number of disciples of the late atmospheric hip-hop pioneer J Dilla, or even a guy like bedroom-funk sensation James Pants. Right now, whether it&amp;#039;s the stuff on Daptone Records, Danger Mouse&amp;#039;s spaghetti-western tributes (Rome), or something as avant-garde as the wholly instrumental Explosions in the Sky, these are salad days for artists choosing to challenge us to mine meaning from the music, not the lyrics.  Because you don&amp;#039;t know what it&amp;#039;s saying, a song like &amp;quot;Slow Motion&amp;quot; says what you want it to say. It sounds like a million different songs and no other song all at the same time. It sounds like the last song in the world. For now at least. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.esquire.com/entertainment/music/a32931/slow-motion-panda-bear-review-0411/>