And indeed, Of the Last Human Being sounds like the band never left. But what that sounds like beguiles description for the many people not privy to Sleepytime’s history. An absurd mixture of instruments, some of them home-made, conglomerates into a surreal nightmare, tethered to reality tenuously by the dulcet tones of mad preacher Nils Frykdahl and hissed insanity of Carla Kihlstedt, who often sing in duet to truly maddening effect. At turns you may be reminded of Mr. Bungle (“Save It!”), UneXpect (“S.P.Q.R.”) or the most unhinged tenets of Diablo Swing Orchestra (“We Must Know More”). Most of the time, it won’t remind you of anything at all. Kihlstedt’s violin frequently duels with the guitars in riffs and leads that always sound unnatural, but never sound aimless. Quieter moments conjure unease with xylophones and wind instruments while the lyrics hang around in the venn diagram where schizophrenic manifesto and poetry overlap.
Structurally, though, Of the Last Human Being is less beyond the pale, and it helps balance out the plethora of wildly imaginative textures and flourishes. “Salamander in Two Worlds” is a powerful opener, working its way up from hushed vocals and brass to a feverish, almost sludge-like cacophony with atypical, ricocheting percussion and tremolo riffs, yet featuring an actual chorus. “S.P.Q.R.” is even more frenzied, Frykdahl and Kihlstedt shouting an unhinged lecture on Romans in tandem, but repeat stanzas guard the track’s cohesion. This high energy stands in stark contrast with the quietly sanity-unspooling creepiness of “Silverfish,” featuring Kihlstedt quavering between bouts of shrill violin, or the sardonic grandstanding folk of “Old Grey Heron.” Even the shorter tracks and interludes spin bizarre imagery and leap from sad to surreal to sinister.
Though Sleepytime Gorilla Museum only has 3 prior albums to its name, it’s worth measuring Of the Last Human Being against these, if only to see whether the intervening years have done anything to diminish the troupe’s unique qualities. I‘m happy to say that they largely haven’t, though this comes with a few liner notes. Just like before the hiatus, this is heady music, and whether you’d call it pretentious is entirely dependent on your tolerance for theatrical excess, specifically with its dadaistic influences on full display, like a minute and a half of ringing bells serving as an interlude. Though, to this I should add, this might still be the most accessible album Sleepytime has ever made. In the context of all the weird, offbeat, and characteristic songs in the tracklist, “El Evil” sounds almost normal. I must admit I’m not terribly fond of “Hush, Hush,” and instrumental closer “Rose-Colored Song” could have done the same in half the length. But when you’re talking Sleepytime Gorilla Museum, lavishness has a tendency to become a virtue, and it’s still ever so pleasant a nightmare to wallow in.
Apparently, it’s an infectious stance, as I find myself writing with more color and more abundance and abandon than usual. Perhaps it’s the part of me that never believed I’d get to write this review. As a longtime fan, I am beyond thrilled that not only is Sleepytime Gorilla Museum back, but its music still has the same unique apocalyptic quality, even if it feels just a tad safer than the band’s prior output. As a reviewer, I am just as happy to be able to share my love for this band with thousands of readers, and tell you all with full conviction: step into the Museum of the Last Human Being, for it is an experience unlike any other, and a fantastic return for a most unique, extraordinary ensemble of musicians.
Rating: 4.0/5.0
DR: N/A | Format Reviewed: Stream
Label: Avant Night
Websites: sleepytimegorillamuseum1.bandcamp.com | facebook.com/sleepytimegorillamuseum
Releases Worldwide: February 23rd, 2024
