Five years ago, in the winter of 2009, Animal Collective released into the world what many consider its most accessible album, as well as magnum opus, Merriweather Post Pavilion. The more commercially viable album can be attributed to a couple of factors. For one, longtime member Josh Dibb (otherwise known as Deakin) took a sabbatical from the band. In addition to the absence of Deakin, the band seemed to consciously try and make an album that would be able to reach more than just its core fanbase. And while Deakin later returned on the follow-up to Merriweather, 2012’s Centipede Hz, the “radio-friendly” Animal Collective did not. In this article, myself and fellow Wired staff member Kellie Wasikowski will be looking into just what made Merriweather work, as well as it’s significance to us and it’s effect on independent music and beyond.

Kellie: My first listen to this album is something I now remember as a staple of my high school experience. My family moved closer to the Westside district after middle school, and I remember accompanying my parents over to what would be our new house one afternoon so they could meet with our realtor. As my parents sat and discussed business-related matters, I went to my empty bedroom and downloaded MerriweatherPost Pavilion onto my computer. I sat on the hard wood floors of my new room that was only lit by natural light from the windows, and listened to the song that ours truly, John Ficenec, had told me of — “My Girls” — the albums’  most well-known song. The blank walls and room allowed me to really appreciate the sound and beauty of the terrestrial album.

My first memory of hearing Animal Collective continues to resonate with me even today because I will remember it as a transitional stage into my current personality. This was one of the first albums that I ever really committed myself to, and after that my music interests began to expand more than I thought possible. I began to travel back into Animal Collective’s older records, each having very different but distinct tones that were all present on Merriweather.  

Other bands similar to Animal Collective began to spark my interest too, after hearing the potential in this type of music. Animal Collective was just the beginning for my newfound liking of synthesizers and abstract sounds. I began purchasing used albums off Amazon to start a small collection, and I always try to push myself to listen to things I am unsure about. As my music interests expanded, I began to trust my dad’s intuition more when he suggested albums and bands to me, and he is now my most frequent concert going companion. Since our music tastes are similar, he is always willing to take me to concerts in Kansas City, and these afternoon trips are some of my best memories.

Last October we went down to Kansas City to see Animal Collective at the Midland Theater, and while I wanted to go stand up front to see the members of the Collective, he stood in the back and enjoyed the concert too. It performed the much-demanded songs from Merriweather, but the entire show was fantastic.

Although I don’t think Merriweather is Animal Collective’s best record, it is a piece of art very close to me because I remember it being part of a transitional part of my life. This is an album that means much more to me than the physical CD, rather it is something that I associate with some of my favorite moments as a young adult.

John: My experience with discovering Merriweather is sort of a weird journey. I first got my hands on the album when my math tutor in 7th grade gave me about 75 CD-Rs of albums he thought I’d enjoy. Merriweather was one of the albums. In addition to Merriweather, about four or five of the other CD-Rs he gave me were other Animal Collective albums. I had heard of Animal Collective before acquiring these CD-Rs, but the only song I had listened to was “Grass,” and that was only because it was used in a skate video I liked.

So at the same time of receiving the CD-R of Merriweather, a skate video came out from one of my favorite companies (Alien Workshop’s Mindfield) that featured two songs from Merriweather in it. Whilst watching the credits of Mindfield, I recognized the terms “Animal Collective” and “Merriweather Post Pavilion,” but I wasn’t exactly sure what from. Then it hit me, and I went to grab the CD-R to listen to it. The two songs from Mindfield, “My Girls” and “In the Flowers,” were immediate standouts, obviously, but for whatever reason, in my pre-pubescent mind, the rest of the album seemed to really grasp a hold of me as well.

So for about a year from that first listening all the way through, Merriweather Post Pavilion became a staple in my listening habits. I even introduced it to my friends via the skateboarding video. The memories I have of my friends and I collectively listening to it on the way to and back from the indoor skatepark during that winter, and later on while returning back from hot and sweaty skate sessions during the summer, are some of the best ones I have. But after much thought, I’d actually say my favorite memory while listening to Merriweather would probably be the one day after school in seventh grade in which I set up one of my old, crappy skateboards to use in the rain. After I had set it up, I went out while it was lightly drizzling, the skies cloudy and grey as can be, and listened to the album all the way through, doing extra long powerslides with the help of the rain.

I think the remarkable thing about this album is how it managed to have such crossover appeal. Being able to show what I thought at the time was this super “weird” and esoteric ablum to my friends, and actually have them enjoy it, felt euphoric. It was as if this album was specially crafted for myself and my friends. Simply put, it was the soundtrack to one of my favorite periods in my life. Life wasn’t hard then, and the future still looked brighter than a thousand suns, and Merriweather Post Pavilion made each seemingly normal and mundane event appear more meaningful and important than I would ever know.