Like the Grateful Dead before them, the psychedelic heads of Animal Collective are evolving from raging sonic hallucinations into gentler, more melodic trips. The ninth disc from this Brooklyn/Baltimore crew tries balancing shameless beauty with ecstatic weirdness, and when they nail it, it’s breathtaking. “Summertime Clothes” is a swirling pastoral with dance-music thrust, while “Guys Eyes” is a cauldron of the Pet Sounds vocal fractals. “Lion in a Coma” and “No More Runnin” get lost in their own oddness. But the magic returns on “Brothersport,” a bacchanalian Brian Wilson-meets-Kraftwerk jam that repeats “open up your throat.” Whether it’s a celebration of singing, magic mushrooms or blow jobs is your call.
