Panda Bear strips things back on his eighth solo album. He embraces emotional vulnerability. He delivers a ghostly, aching record that stands out among his most resonant and subtly daring.

Panda Bear, aka Noah Lennox, is a member of Animal Collective. In my view, their best album remains the psychedelic trip, “Merriweather Post Pavillion.” He and his co-producer here are Deakin (Josh Dibb, also of Animal Collective). They have made a career out of building sonic soundscapes. These are warm, echo-filled places where harmony and loop-based repetition become spiritual exercises. In “Sinister Grift,” Panda Bear is at his most exposed and contemplative level.

The result is terrific.

The album begins with Praise, a hushed invocation that floats in on sparse instrumentation and a gently quivering vocal. It’s a subtle opening. It is stripped of the dense harmonics we often associate with Lennox. Instead, it relies on restraint and warmth. A dusty drum machine loops beneath washed-out chords as Lennox sings something halfway between prayer and lullaby. There’s vulnerability here, an openness that sets the tone for the entire album: less kaleidoscopic color, more faded Polaroid…?

Groovy

Anywhere But Here continues this spectral momentum. It anchors itself around a dubby, slow groove. There are distant vocal echoes in Portuguese from his daughter (the album was recorded in Noah’s Lisbon home studio). Panda Bear has been a master at turning repetition into revelation. Here, he achieves this with a delicate touch. The song never builds toward a climax. It just circles, grows a little heavier and then fades. This mirrors the lyrical drift toward escapism and dislocation. The subtlety of the arrangement allows the emotional content to breathe.

Then comes 50mg, which injects an off-kilter propulsion into the album’s palette. Here, Lennox leans into more synthetic textures — skittering, reggae-ish beats, tremolo-filtered synths, and chopped vocals. It’s jittery and anxious. The title — a clinical reference to dosage — hints at the psychological unease beneath the surface. Earlier Panda Bear material often evoked a blissed-out calm. “Sinister Grift” is more interested in the search for that calm. It questions the ambiguity of whether it can ever be fully attained.

Ends Meet functions as a quiet anchor point. It’s all brushed percussion, soft chords, and breathy vocals — nothing flashy but deeply felt. The Latin, beachy influence is here: it is sunny. Lennox sings resignedly, embracing the unknown rather than fighting it: “They got a spot to bury you. It’s not news, you’re tremblin’ for what? Just keep it in the groove (Don’t let up)”. He finishes repeating, “What else can I do? What else can I do?”.

From there, “Sinister Grift” subtly stretches its sonic palette. Just as Well brings in acoustic textures. The finger-picked guitar sits beneath Lennox’s layered vocals. It is like the foundation of a fading memory. The melody is gorgeous — plaintive, rising and falling with a bittersweet grace. The lyrics hint at letting go: “I’m gonna try my luck on the outside. I’m gonna try, I’m gonna try.”

Ferry Lady is one of the album’s more abstract tracks, leaning into field recordings and ambient washes. It has a dreamlike quality — like floating through fog. Lennox’s voice is buried so deep in the mix that it becomes just another texture. It’s not a song that demands attention but invites the listener to drift with it. The effect is mesmerizing — ambient music with a heartbeat.

Dark

Then Venom’s In stabs through the haze. It’s darker and harsher. The beat is clanging and metallic. Distorted vocal samples seem to claw at the song’s edges. There’s a hint of menace here and a touch of theatricality. Panda Bear rarely sounds angry, but this track has a clear sense of unrest. The venom is in, and the smooth surfaces of earlier tracks start to crack.

Left in the Cold follows with a fragile resilience. The lyrics are minimal and fragmentary, sketching images of distance, misunderstanding, and the slow thaw of time. The track mirrors that sense of chill musically. It features crisp textures, wintry pads, and a drum machine that clicks like a ticking clock. But I can’t help but think it sounds like filler.

The emotional apex arrives with Elegy for Noah Lou, a song that feels like eulogy and self-reflection. It is the longest on the album. It’s unclear whether the “Noah Lou” in question is a person, a pet, or a persona. It could also be something more abstract. Nonetheless, the song’s tenderness suggests profound personal loss. The arrangement is sparse: an ambient synth bed, soft piano, and a few harmonized sighs. Lennox doesn’t over-explain. He doesn’t need to. The ache is there in every note, and it’s devastating in its understatement.

Finale

And then comes Defense, the final track and the album’s most startling. Featuring Canadian outsider-pop visionary Cindy Lee, the song explodes the emotional arc of the record into full-blown catharsis. Where most of the album moves in shades of grey, Defense arrives like a spectral opera. Lennox and Lee trade ghostly harmonies over woozy synths and distortion. Cindy plays an absolutely cracking guitar solo. There’s a theatricality here, a sense of finality, and an emotional urgency the rest of the record only hints at.

Cindy Lee’s voice – tremulous, aching, and impossible to ignore – lifts the track into a different register altogether. It’s mournful, yes, but also defiant. The lyrics speak to vulnerability and the armor we wear to protect it: “Lookin’ for defense. Nothin’ left to do. But hang my head and cry. What was the intent?” In a lesser artist’s hands, it can come off as melodramatic. But here, it lands with heartbreaking truth. Defense doesn’t resolve the record – it detonates it. And when it ends, it leaves a silence that feels earned and meaningful. “This place I can’t occupy. Here I come. Here I come. Here I come. Here I come. Here I come.”

I’m sure the album won’t be for everyone. Those seeking big hooks or euphoric swells may find “Sinister Grift” subdued. There are many rewards for those willing to sit with its textures. Those rewards also exist for those who appreciate its silence. You need to engage with its flickering intimacy. It’s a record about fragility. It explores the fragility of self, sound, and connection. It also highlights the quiet courage it takes to face that fragility with open eyes.

I’m not sure “Sinister Grift” seeks to dazzle or overwhelm the listener. It seems to seek something deeper: understanding, release, and maybe even grace. 

And in its final moments, as Defense fades into spectral stillness, it finds just that.

Listen to this album. Over and over. It is just pure, pure magic.

Favorites: Praise, Anywhere But Here, 50mg, Ends Meet, Just as Well, Ferry Lady, Venom’s In, Defense.

Least Favorite Track: Left in the Cold

Chris Garrod, April 10, 2025

9.5/10