Crazed, starved, arrhythmic and antipopular Man Man, whose lyrics tend to involve a vivid description of a murder or of mental disorders, have returned for yet another album, On Oni Pond, out September 10th on their native Anti Records. And, as unfortunately seems to be the trend, once more they have depreciated the artistic value of their music in exchange for accessibility.

For those uninitiated, Man Man is an indie rock band from Philadelphia, most well known for being entirely bizarre. They have been described as many things: experimental, avant-garde, circus rock, gypsy punk, cabaret, moustachecore, and most commonly, weird. Personally, I choose to describe them as [I-am-being-censored-by-the-man]ing awesome. In terms of sound, the best way to give you some idea is by following this recipe: take one Tom Waits, one Frank Zappa, and one marimba. Place in a high-powered blender with the works of a depressed British writer and secure the top. Blend well. If you are actually interested in widening your musical horizons, or just seeing what that one random Newsstreak writer listens to, I recommend “Life Fantastic” as a starter song, as well as the eponymous album if you want more. Life Fantastic was, in my opinion, Man Man’s finest moment: an album accessible enough for a large segment of people to listen to, and weird enough to keep it interesting and retain their style. This is not to say that it is my favorite album, as personally I prefer the stranger, older tunes, but this is the album that I most readily recommend to the plebes.

It’s definitely worth a try, as Senior Tabatha LaFreniere espouses. “My life had no meaning until I heard the sweet sound of Man Man,” LaFreniere said. “[When I listen to Life Fantastic,] my heart flutters and I grunt in musical pleasure.”

But I digress. This article is about how their new album fails to be a proper follow-up to Life Fantastic, and certainly a totally different venture from The Man in a Blue Turban with a Face, Rabbit Habbits, or Six Demon Bag, and how it left me, one of their most devoted fans, to simply frowning at a greyish mark on my wall while I listened to the album. That is not the desired effect of listening to a Man Man album. You should feel compelled to throw all your dishware at the wall, or dance really poorly, or write an impassioned review of The Great Gatsby, complete with in-depth descriptions of how and with what tools Baz Luhrmann should be punished for his terrible, terrible cinematography.  But no. On Oni Pond was bland, uninteresting, and most of all, uninspired.

Let’s go through it. The lead single, “Head On”, is definitely a solid track. It’s catchy but mildly unique, and it gave me high hopes when I first heard it a couple months before the album release. Everything (and trust me, everything) is downhill from there. The lyrics, which in previous albums told chillingly bizarre stories of crimes and non-traditional stories of lost love, are in this album odd, unpoetic tossings of stale prose that seem to be telling the tale of impotence. Additionally, the subject matter doesn’t seem to change from song to song, as it should, and so the entire album sort of blurs together in an unsatisfactory manner, not because the songs actually combine well, but rather because it’s hard to remember what the last one sounded like.

Now, I’ve gone hyperbolic again, as always, but I do think I agree with most of what I just said. Still, a disclaimer: I actually liked the album. It just wasn’t what I wanted from Man Man. And it’s certainly listenable, enjoyable even, but it’s nothing that breaks new ground, and if I had been introduced to Man Man through this album, I probably would have moved on. This means that I am sad, but you might not be. I’m still probably going to get this album and play it occasionally, and maybe it’ll grow on me. But it will never be Six Demon Bag.

6.3/10

For other, less crazed opinions on the album, see metacritic. Some people liked it a lot because they’re boring.

For an equally and/or more crazed opinion, see Pitchfork’s review.