Panda Bear – Brixton Electric, London 04/03/15

In 2009, I saw Animal Collective for the first time as they headlined Green Man Festival. Disinterested and disengaged, the group created a distance between themselves and the audience that, when I was past the frustration and denial, devastated me. However, after months crept by, I had the chance to see them again; and this time they blew me away. Hours of noise, overarching themes dissolving into colours from over a decade’s worth of material; this is the Baltimore sun that I had craved. But I’ve never seen Avey Tare, Panda Bear and company top it - in fact - you’re now again more likely to see something akin to the Green Man 2009 incarnation of Animal Collective than the atom-splitting show that came after it.

This is the third time I’ve seen Panda Bear in eighteen months and the show reflects recent record Panda Bear Meets The Grim Reaper. With the gurgles of “Boys Latin” filling the Electric Brixton, so begins a stream of songs from a record with a sense of pop reality at its core. Happily, it sounds even better out here than it does on the album. There’s less fervor for experimentation with structures, with Noah instead opting for minor melodic embellishments, subtle adjustments to the texture or changes in dynamics and emphasis to evolve the pieces.

Like a pastor behind a pulpit, Lennox is silhouetted by effervescent light with his head jarring side-to-side, dancing between phrases. So often in the shadow of Avey Tare, it can be easy to cast an eye over Panda Bear as an apathetic vocalist but at “Crossroads”, one of his most dynamic performances of the evening, he glides in and out of falsetto from the top of his range, harnessing a ludicrously captivating energy.

Whether it’s in the bleakness of “Sequential Circuits” or the revolutions of “Acid Wash” Danny Perez’s projected visuals become an extension of Panda Bear’s songs and are a feast of depth. A bold move, it shoulders a lot of the audience’s attention throughout the show and it manages to mystify and enthrall at the unlikeliest of moments. During an eight-minute section of slow movement in the music, we are held by eye contact with the kaleidoscopic subject in Perez’s video and, at the moment that interests begin to dither as the nods and sways lose momentum, Perez’s subject is sick all over herself, before flashing a smile. The Electric Brixton reacts in an almost comical fashion, with ‘yeuks’ and gasps a UK Gold canned laughter track would be proud of.

“Tropic of Cancer”, Panda Bear Meets The Grim Reaper’s austere centrepiece, is a deliberate crescendo of tensions, sour sentiment and soul-swallowing deep reverberations. As Lennox repeats “you can’t won’t come back”, Perez’s figure darkens and emerges; we meet the Grim Reaper.