Animal Collective - 'Strawberry Jam' (Domino) Released 10/09/07

At first, 'Strawberry Jam' sounds like a determined effort to get on the listeners' nerves. The hyperactive noisemaking apparatus that burp into life at the start never let up, resulting in a cluttered cacophony suggesting all channels were accidentally left open throughout the mixing process. Filled to the brim with a disorientating cavalcade of electronic bleeps & squeals, unhinged screams, a doo-wop boxset's worth of helium-inhaling harmonies and battered beats that appear to be barely held together by chewing gum, more fitting titles for the album would've been 'Malfunctioning Analogue Synths on a Rampage' or 'Animal Collective Lose Control'.

Keep in mind, though, that this is the art-pop ensemble whose endless playfulness and gonzoid wackiness would be borderline intolerable, did the quartet not base their off-kilter soundscapes on superb songcraft and the kind of boundless inventiveness that's bound to baffle you at first, before slapping you across the chops with its sheer brilliance. The prolific outfit's umpteenth album follows this process. Stripped-down, spontaneous and occasionally teetering on the brink of total collapse brought on by a massive noise overdose, it's closer in spirit to debut 'Spirit They're Gone Spirit They've Vanished's tentative first flowerings of the outfit's singular style than the murky textures of 2005's fantastic 'Feels', albeit the group's undeniable melodic prowess and their penchant for in-the-red skronk coexist much more peacefully this time around, due no doubt to the quartet's steadily improving skills in making the most unexpected u-turns in tone and volume yield to the laws of logic and the seemingly inexhaustible, infectious energy the platter throbs with.

The adult concerns hinted at amongst the unsteady grooves, stuttering stone age techno rhythms and outbreaks of shrill shrieking at the spots where more conventional bands would be milking the fretboard on the likes of first single 'Peacebone' suggest the New York-based four-piece have bowed to the pressure of advancing years and made a - gosh - grown-up platter. Not a chance. 'Childlike' topping the list of adjectives used in conjunction to Animal Collective isn't due to hack-tastic laziness alone. The band's messily inquisitive approach really does evoke vivid memories of carefree childhood days spent throwing stuff together with little thought to the usefulness of the outcome or the lurid colour the carpet's turning into due to on onslaught of spills, never more so than on the bouncy 'Chores' and the marshmallow-flavoured bubblegum punk of 'Winter Wonderland', both of which hop and skip like an entire children's birthday party on an intense sugar rush, racing from one balloon-filled room to the next with much delighted chuckling.

Elsewhere, the combo creates fresh updates of the classic pop chops of Beach Boys et al, before dragging the infectious results to their secret laboratory for an extensive course of sonically adventurous skewering. Like exhausted party guests who've stuffed their faces with cake and pop, the album runs out of steam slightly towards the end, but the first two thirds provide some of the most magical art-pop moments since, well, the aquatic epics of AC drummer Panda Bear's astounding solo opus 'Person Pitch'.

Aptly titled, 'Strawberry Jam' resembles its namesake condiment; sweet, sticky, fruity and capable of inducing spewing if consumed too quickly. Allow it enough time to hop over the initial hurdle of unapproachable nuttiness, however, and you won't be able to stop munching.