Ever since the late 2000s, Animal Collective and Panda Bear (real name Noah Lennox) have been a Pitchfork darling, consistently earning acclaim for their contributions to neo-psychedelia and indie, creating a cult-like following ever since “Strawberry Jam” or even soon after “Merriweather Post Pavilion.” Panda Bear himself collaborated with the likes of Daft Punk and British musician Dean Blunt, his previous record being a collaboration with Sonic Boom in 2022. “Sinister Grift” marks his first solo venture since 2019, and it shows the artist venturing into new and bold territory of reggae and surf rock, while still retaining the familiar psychedelic sonic landscapes of his past. This results in an album that is familiar and refreshingly new, offering an emotionally vulnerable project.
Surf rock has always been tricky to modernize. Its core acoustics — tremolo-drenched guitars, tight harmonies, retro kitsch — are so rooted in a version of the past that it sounds more like an escapist fantasy than a lived experience. Either way, the final product becomes a parody or overly reverent pastiche. What “Sinister Grift” does as an album doesn’t try to reclaim surf rock in its traditional form. Instead, Panda Bear deconstructs the entirety of it. This, much like the deconstructed pop found in Brian Wilson’s work on “Pet Sounds” and “Smiley Smile” made The Beach Boys so influential.
Brian Wilson, the visionary behind the Beach Boys’ most ambitious works, once described his creative process as deeply instinctual: “I have an instinct for music, or a feeling about it, and I’ll have my feelings guide my hands.” This intuitive approach led to the groundbreaking dual albums previously mentioned, where Wilson deconstructed traditional pop structures, creating emotional and innovative tracks. His capability of layering harmonies and arrangements transformed the band’s sound, infusing it with introspection that was unprecedented in their earlier surf rock hits. This mirrors Panda Bear’s approach.
The first single released, “Ferry Lady,” captures this well — a looping guitar line lulls the listener into a hypnotic daze, carried by Lennox’s voice and a persistent rhythmic pulse. It’s inviting and remains a good introduction into the album that will be released around a month prior to the official release of it.
The crown jewel, however, is “Defense,” featuring Cindy Lee, whose own work in fractured pop finds a perfect counterpart in Lennox’s music. The song is emotionally potent in a sort of Rogers and Parton duet. It’s a standout that epitomizes the emotional core of the album.
Throughout Sinister Grift, Panda Bear experiments with rhythmic forms that draw heavily from reggae and dub. Though never in a way that feels opportunistic or derivative. “Just As Well” and “50mg” are clear highlights in this regard. Carrying the warmth and looseness of reggae but still within the dream-pop syntax. Steel guitars shimmer over dubbed-out beats, giving 50mg a tropical lilt that remains only in the music, avoiding the problem many, including me, have noticed about those like Sting… or Chet Hanks. Lennox himself describes these as “impressions” of reggae, and that seems apt — these are sonic echoes, memory fragments of the genre rather than genre exercises.
The back half of the record shifts into a more ambient and introspective terrain. “Venom’s In” operates more as a hinge that brings us into the album’s most emotionally rich moment: “Left in the Cold.” This track stands as one of the most beautifully composed tracks in recent memory — oceanic, expansive and lethargic. It takes the melancholia that always lurked in his works and renders it with clarity and restraint. It’s the kind of track that earns attention through atmosphere and emotional resonance.
“Elegy for Noah Lou” follows, more subdued but still affecting — a quiet moment of reflection that paves the way for the previously mentioned “Defense” to fully land as the album’s final breath.
“Sinister Grift” is an album that explores new sounds in the unique essence of Panda Bear’s style. He continues to bend genre not for novelty, but as a method of expressing memory and for introspective purposes. That said, not every track hits with the same weight as others. Some tracks — particularly “Venom’s In” and “Elegy for Noah Lou” — function more as transitional moods than standalone. They add to the atmosphere but don’t hold up outside of these situations.
Still, the best are undeniable. When “Sinister Grift” locks into stronger moments, it feels effortless, transporting the listener far from the wintry mindset in which many first encountered it this February. And maybe that’s the point. These songs are drifty and feel like a postcard from a different time and place, something not intense in any way but still enjoyable with lots of emotion built in, something that is unmistakably Panda Bear as an artist.
