Hey Panda, the new release from the enduring English outfit the High Llamas, is an immersion and distension of contemporary pop music from a man, one Sean O’Hagan, long known for reinvigorating sounds from the past. But with strong songwriting and a respectful approach at its core, the endeavor succeeds with flying colors. The earned chutzpah of a veteran musician adds value. The album is out on vinyl, compact disc, and digital March 29 through Drag City Records of Chicago.
Hey Panda’s radical departure renders direct comparisons to O’Hagan’s earlier work not particularly useful. However, it serves a purpose, especially for those long familiar with the High Llamas, to relate that (after a break of eight years) this new record is a legit progression from (if not always a discernible extension of) the chamber-avant-electronic pop that precedes it.
Key to Hey Panda’s success is O’Hagan’s sincere appreciation for the contemporary pop forms he’s engaging with and distorting; He’s not pranking or trolling or even really subverting these forms, but instead applying fresh techniques and ambiances to the songs he’s written. And not just applying those methods, but laying them on thick.
O’Hagan cites J Dilla as his biggest inspiration in making Hey Panda, and if anybody would know, it’s him. But there are also moments that trigger thoughts of the Japanese pop-auteurs Haruomi Hosono and Ryuichi Sakamoto (and naturally, the Yellow Magic Orchestra), plus similarities in tactics to Cornelius and Jim O’Rourke.
Overt nods to Brian Wilson are absent, but there’s still a bit of Van Dyke Parks in the mix, and straightaway in the opening title cut, with the lyric “put on your dancin’ shoes” recalling the version of Lowell George’s “Sailin’ Shoes” that Parks recorded on Discover America. But overall, the track resonates like late ’70s-early ’80s sophisto pop that’s been given a slick techno sheen and an arty tweaking.
Eccentric? Yes. Still pop? Also yes. “Fall off the Mountain” illuminates O’Hagan’s structural restlessness, beginning introspectively, with acoustic guitar, and then quickly erupting into buoyant danceability (suitable for aerobics). It’s here that Hosono and Sakamoto come to mind, as the track sounds as much like City Pop at its most oddball (or even Thomas Dolby) as it does an immersion in current pop flavors.
There are pitch shifted vocals al over Hey Panda, but in “Fall off the Mountain” they get cartoonishly high rather than grooving like an R&B lothario (that will come a little later, in “How the Best Was Won”). Animal sounds are also heard (sheep), but it’s important to note that the eccentricity doesn’t tip over into the goofy. Contrasting, “Bade Amey” maintains a structural throughline and effectively spotlights O’Hagan’s songwriting.
English pop singer Rae Morris takes the vocal for the wonderfully strange “Sister Friends,” which sounds a bit like Kate Bush (or French musician Colleen) collaborating with The Books. It’s in “How the Best Was Won,” one of two songs on Hey Panda co-written with Bonnie “Prince” Billy, where O’Hagan’s integration of R&B-soul (both contemporary and classic) shines brightest (the joyous feel in the waning moments is gospel-tinged but also harkens back to ’80s mainstream pop).
Understand there are earworms here. “Hey Panda” fits the bill, and so does “The Grade,” even as the track continues to ooze a weirdness that’s unstrained. That is, O’Hagan isn’t forcing the weird but instead is just pulling from a big bag of possibilities and staying true to his long-running artistic vision as he’s thrived on the margins. “Yoga Goat,” with its brittle programmed rhythms and arcade gamey cascades can suggest bedroom pop, but the strength of the songwriting core ultimately separates Hey Panda from any kind of pack.
“Stone Cold Slow” isn’t so down-tempo. To the contrary, it’s one of the album’s more danceable tracks, if getting down is destined to be complicated by more structural shifts. But to be clear, Hey Panda is best described as a deep listening experience (to borrow Drag City’s term) rather than social music (to borrow Harry Smith’s). That’s not to say that folks can’t enjoy this LP in each other’s company. It’s just very likely that the focus of attention in the room will gravitate toward these songs.
“Toriafan” returns to the R&B fount while freshening the association, adding in some chamber strings and harp plucking. “Hungriest Man,” the other songwriting collab with Bonnie “Prince” Billy, gravitates once more to the R&B root. But “The Water Moves,” frontloaded with vocal harmony, is more indebted to classique pop (think Bacharach) while sounding right up to date (and ahead of its time, even).
Hey Panda really hangs together as an LP and furthermore ends as strong as it starts. After a hovering prelude, “La Masse” jump-cuts into a slow-rolling head-bobber for the close. Clearly a musically risky undertaking, the High Llamas’ latest avoids missteps as its quirks are essential to the whole. The album deepens an already considerable body of work.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A-
