Grizzly Bear – 8 p.m. Sept. 26, Michigan Theater, 603 E. Liberty St., Ann Arbor, www.michtheater.org
A name like Grizzly Bear conjures images of chunky, hairy gay men and grisly, man-eating mammals. This quartet, a trippy neo-folk beast of a band, is neither of those. Not chubby, unless I'm missing something – like a few hundred pounds. And, from what we know, not cannibalistic.
The only thing they'll chew up when they play at 8 p.m. Sept. 26 at the Michigan Theater in Ann Arbor is the scenery, playing their perfectionist, melodramatic brand of art-rock rhythms from their third LP, "Veckatimest."
Its debut at No. 8 on the Billboard 200 chart scored the ungay-sounding gays of Grizzly Bear a smash, for an indie band anyway. "Veckatimest" – named after a small Massachusetts island and mostly recorded, fittingly for its very orchestral sounds, in a church – is an uneven mind fuck, a lyrical and musical grandiosity that's a sprawling, big-sounding behemoth and about as obvious and attention-absorbing as a kindergartner.
"I Live With You" is deceiving, admirable, but hard to digest, drawing us in with a kissable swirl of flute, sax and a choir, and then scaring the bejesus out of us with a pounding drum line and creepy "Children of the Corn" giggles. It's long and winding, and likely to score big at a concert hall. But, gosh, Arcade Fire's not even this queer.
These Brooklyn-based hipsters began in 2003 as a simple project for out frontman Ed Droste, who titled his then one-man act after an ex-boyfriend's nickname. Soon after, college pals – Chris Taylor, bassist; Chris Bear, drummer; and co-songwriter/guitarist Daniel Rossen – came aboard.
Debut album "Horn of Plenty" dropped in 2004, challenging folk with its psychedelic barrier-breaking sound. "Yellow House" followed two years later, becoming one of the most heralded LPs of 2006. It's quieter and closer to folk than "Veckatimest" and bestows a far more minimalistic, moonlight-calming effect than their edgier latest.
Both are ambitious, but "Veckatimest" headways that intricately-laced ambition into near pretentiousness, and the center core, with back-to-back filler like "About Face" and "Hold Still," can't compete with the sturdier ends. The two best cuts – and by best, I mean holy-crap, download-now greatness – actually come before and after this middling, meandering in-between.
"Two Weeks" is a whimsical Beach Boys-sounding charmer with a keyboard riff strangely reminiscent of Jay Z's "Hard Knock Life" (and, hey, get this: Jay's a fan – he and wife Beyonce were spotted at a recent Grizzly Bear gig). Listen closely: the line "I told you I would stay" sounds remarkably like "I told you I was gay," which would change the song's devotion ode – Rolling Stone claims it's a piece about his boyfriend – into a neat little coming-out ditty.
Then there's "While You Wait for the Others" with its exhilarating jagged guitar licks. But it's the climbing chorus, with dreamy harmonies and a crashing of drums, that's pure ear ecstasy.
That, and much of the rest of Grizzly Bear's weirdness, is an addiction that I can live with.
Grizzly Bear
8 p.m. Sept. 26
Michigan Theater
603 E. Liberty St., Ann Arbor
michtheater.org
