No Time For Pretending

MGMT -- Congratulations

MGMT are in a tough spot. How exactly does one follow Oracular Spectacular? It's not that it's necessarily such an amazing album, in fact I'd call it "good" at best. It's that three songs from the album -- "Time To Pretend," "Kids," and "Electric Feel," in order of importance -- changed shit. A year and a half ago, these songs came crashing into the public conscience, from whence who knew, demolishing whatever fragile wall remained between indie and mainstream. As this new sound permeated even the most insular of cliques, the "from whence who knew" turned into rallying cries of "Brooklyn! Brooklyn! Brooklyn!" Ear and eye were turned towards the gentrifying borough for queues on how to live life. It was "Time To Pretend," in particular, that captured the airwaves and accelerated the hipsterization of pop culture. From features on TV shows like Gossip Girl and 90210, to just about any mix a college student made during 2008, to cocking my eyebrow as the unmistakable "na-na-na-na-na NA NA!" suddenly filled the gold-trimmed ballroom at Boston's Fairmont Hotel where several hundred formally-attired yuppies were gathered for my company's holiday party, it was inescapable. Tough to follow? Perhaps an understatement.

Luckily, MGMT recognized this. There is no Time To Pretend on their sophomore album, Congratulations (it's actually their third album as a duo, but for all intents and purposes let's stick with calling it their second). Any artist with half a lick of musical prudence would have known better than to attempt such a repeat. To do so would surely have betrayed the core message the song itself preaches: indulge ourselves as we may in things like drugs, alcohol, money, parties, moving to Paris, and fucking with the stars, we'll never quite recapture the naive thrill of childhood. Similarly, Time To Pretend happened and won't happen again.

And it wouldn't have been as much fun anyway, would it have? MGMT, having declared that they would create a great album over a really great song, or even a handful, have set about to focus and refine the jittery electro-psychedelia that betters the less radio-friendly moments of Oracular Spectacular, rather than try to recreate its catchy anthems. The new approach is much closer to old-fashioned 60s psychedelia, sporting a splash of soulfulness, possibly dabbling in 5th Dimension territory. Indeed, "Someone's Missing" has got more than a splash; its dramatic finale is straight-up Jackson 5. But they keep things diverse. The progressive touches that appeared on Spectacular are found again -- though more tactfully applied -- most notably on "Siberian Breaks," a lengthy organ-laced number with a couple tempo shifts and so on (and definitely an album highlight). In spite of the ornate arrangements, in many places MGMT almost seem to attempt assertion of mature restraint -- perhaps best expressed by Stereogum, in accidental allegory, when they posted the 4:16-lengthed video for "Flash Delirium": "why not four more seconds, guys?"



The approach raises the question of whether they're a group who benefit from restraint. Their music, image, and everything in between beg excess. Of course, maybe that's only what's been established by audiences -- which, as we've discussed, is kinda what MGMT are trying to buck. They want to show us they can be the shrewd, frugal songwriters too. There are certainly no cheap thrills to be found here. Withdrawn into a grey area of cryptic might-be-irony, the songs land somewhere between detached tragedy and post-high delirium, encumbered only by the obviousness of the effort that went into them. It's assuredly less approachable; what remains to be decided is whether it's in a good way or bad way.

It could also all be a part of MGMT's master plan to return to the underground world they inadvertently shattered for themselves. They make no secret of their admiration for the fringe: as if enlisting the help of Spacemen 3 cofounder Pete Kember to work on the album weren't enough, one track is titled "Song for Dan Treacy" and another is called "Brian Eno". Even if the latter is some kind of tongue-in-cheek self-mockery (and hey, I've always contended they owe rent to David Bowie), name-dropping such champions of the avant garde on two of the album's nine tracks is slightly uncouth and smacks faintly of "trying too hard;" it's probably outright futile, considering the ascension to mainstream culture MGMT have already made. Still, while they may be powerless against the historical and societal forces of categorization, I'm willing to applaud them for sticking to a vision of individualism and identity. It beats letting twenty-year-old chicks sucker you into writing more soundtracks for their wannabe-hipster ambitions. Their longing for fringe notoriety may remain forever a fantasy, but Congratulations is a step in the right direction for the duo. It is consistent, fruitful, and confident -- and I'm betting it won't be their best album.

It comes out on 4/13, but you can stream it on MGMT's website (and upload personal art): www.whoismgmt.com