Words by Jessica Feinman//Illustration by Julia Schonlau

He’s lurking around every high school in Middle America.

Remember that English teacher with the big, scraggly beard and horn-rimmed glasses? A single untamable gray tuft on the top of his shiny head had replaced the long, unruly locks of his youth. His nose was permanently rosy, and cartoonishly bulbous, which made him seem more grandfatherly than he probably desired. He was the weird mountain man-hippie hybrid who wore thick cardigans with flannel and Birkenstocks with wool socks all year round. Obvious, but often unnoticed, a gold peace sign earring always dangled triumphantly from his right earlobe. You and your peers agreed that he looked awkward among the primarily clean-cut, thirty-something English department, but assumed he had to have been pretty hip back in the day. You would spend your lunch periods feasting on over-priced cheese pizza and fries while conjuring up stories about his mysterious, hippie past — “Yeah, I bet he studied at Berkeley… definitely a poet of some sort… maybe dada… or maybe haikus about war or nature or something?… of course he smoked pot… oh man, do you think he’s tried acid?…”

See, you remember him for his quirks, rather than for his scholarship, but you probably should’ve paid closer attention to his reading suggestions and to that bizarre bumper sticker he stuck on the wall behind his desk that read, “I’d rather be reading Bukowski.” Because sometimes that psychedelic generation of free-spirited hippies turned under-appreciated educators possesses — perhaps through a combination of graduate studies, Eastern philosophy, and vegetarianism — more pertinent, transcendent wisdom than anyone else your undeveloped self would ever encounter among the window-less halls of that four-year indoctrination camp.

After four years, I successfully escaped the froth of hormones, football, and drama without asphyxiating on the mess. However, years later I continue to be reminded of my very own unassuming, ex-hippie English teacher as I stumble upon works by Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, William S. Burroughs, and Charles Bukowski.

In The Dharma Bums, Jack Kerouac documents the successes and failures of his own experimentation with Buddhism, a popular religio-philosophical movement among the Beat Generation. From Buddhism, Kerouac and his contemporaries adopted mantras that would not only permeate but define their way of life. The authors, as we discover through the actions of Kerouac’s antagonists, set out to transform themselves into American bhikkus, or Buddhist monks. Kerouac appropriately baptizes this group as the Dharma Bums, a restless, beaten down youth with strong ideals in search of something beyond what conventional society could offer. These self-made bhikkus strived for detachment from worldly possessions, including the self, and for truth, or Dharma, that which cannot be apprehended by logic or accepted by tradition. This nonconformist, anti-materialistic perspective became the means of searching for one’s soul. Kerouac documents his meditation-centered travels, which include train hopping, hitchhiking across the country, and climbing mountain ranges in the Pacific Northwest, as a means of casting off the evils of the world and attaining everything by attaining to nothing.

Just as Kerouac yearned to find his true pure self by attaining to nothing, so too may Animal Collective’s latest release (a re-release, actually), Hollinndagain, be considered an experiment in nothingness and purity.

Before they incorporated more standard indie toe-tapping rhythms and sing-songy melodies, and before they sang about rabbits and purple bottles on recent albums such as Sung Tongs and Feels, Animal Collective was an experimental New York City-based noise band playing small shows for friends and with friends, such as Black Dice. Aware that their audience was comprised of people who had seen them perform numerous times, Animal Collective made it a point to present new material every night. Consequently, this plethora of songs was never recorded in a studio or made available to the public. In 2002, however, the band (then Avey Tare, Panda Bear, and Geologist) chose seven of their live songs (three from a radio show on WFMU and four from their first U.S. tour with Black Dice) and released 300 copies of Hollinndagain on limited edition, hand-painted vinyl. Immediately following its release, Hollinndagain became one of Animal Collective’s most sought after artifacts.

Recorded a year after the release of Danse Manatee, Hollinndagain doesn’t stray much from the style of Animal Collective’s earlier albums. In fact, the track entitled “Lablakely Dress” appears on both releases, but the five and a half minute extended live version on Hollinndagain communicates so much more – not only for the song’s sake, but also for the potential of a young band – than the studio version. Because the track was recorded during the band’s first U.S. tour, it is clear that they are still unaccustomed to playing live. The intimacy of live music, mixed with the vulnerability of unfledged musicians and the uncertainty of whether the songs themselves will endure or fall apart, add to the experiential aspect of Animal Collective. That is, earlier tracks documented on Hollinndagain such as “Lablakely Dress” cannot be appropriately articulated with words; rather, the songs are an experience in themselves.

Animal Collective has made a name for themselves by adopting similar nonconformist, otherworldly mantras as Jack Kerouac and the American bhikkus of the Beat Generation. They have released seven full-length albums, not to mention various splits, EPs, and side projects, and yet they still manage to produce a unique sound. The band defies conventions and generates songs that cannot be apprehended by logic. Animal Collective is static and in motion, repetitive and changing, chaotic and peaceful, sporadic and regular. The layers of sound found on Animal Collective’s live album, Hollinndagain, are something to be experienced, not explained. By abandoning conventions, Animal Collective attains to nothing and attains everything with Hollinndagain. Listen to the live album, fall into a trance, cast off the evils of the world and find your own true self.

Animal Collective
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Fat Cat Records
More Artwork By Julia Schonlau Can Be Found Here