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I Am Insane: Or, How One Devoted DJ Will Fly Cross-Country to Hear Merriweather Post Pavilion Three Months Early

Let me preface everything I am about write by briefly defending myself and my character:

1. I am, by no means, an impulsive person. I fervently calculate, analyze, examine, and quantify every aspect of my life before making a decision. Shit, it just takes me thirty minutes of my lunch break to decide if I want a salad or a sandwich from Trader Joe's.

2. I love music, but I am not a fangirl. (And that year-and-a-half period when I was in middle school and loved N'Sync should not count against me.) I do not have pictures of Ralf and Florian from Kraftwerk plastered on my wall, nor do I have printouts of a late-1970s Elvis Costello surrounded by hearts hanging above my bed. (I do have a Joy Division poster, but it is rather hard to fall in love with all that dark, English brooding.)

Taking all that into consideration, it seems highly out-of-line for yours truly to do what she's about to do this upcoming Tuesday.

But first, a history lesson.

aren't they just DREEEEEEAAAAMY?

Notably weird and ingenious experimental indie group Animal Collective has, through a series of cryptic videos and website updates, recently revealed the status of their upcoming ninth (NINTH??) studio album. Titled Merriweather Post Pavilion, the album---rumored to be their most ambitious and epic album yet---is set to be released on January 20th. Most Animal Collective fans find themselves forced to sit on their haunches with a heavily-revised tracklisting and a triptastic album cover until the albums drops (or leaks.)

But not me. (No, seriously.)

Enter another cryptic blogosphere-type message from the boys of AC---an album listening party on October 28th in Harlem.

Upon hearing this, my mind turned into a jumble of the following: "WHAT? MERRIWEATHER POST PAVILION BEFORE ANYONE ELSE HEARS IT?" "ZOMG NO WAI!" "AHHHHH!" (Repeat ad nauseum.)

After consulting a Los Angeles friend currently visiting family on the Eastern seaboard, my bank account, and my week's schedule, I decided such an opportunity would be too hard to pass up.

So, I purchased a deliciously cheap ticket to New York City, made plans to stay with an old high school friend, and nabbed a press spot for the evening. (Yes, I really am this crazy.)

Now, I wait. (And sometimes, question my sanity. Why on earth am I flying several thousand miles to hear an ALBUM? It's not a live show, the band probably will not show up...So why?)

And now, is where I get cheesy.

The amazing thing about music---and especially the music of Animal Collective---is that it possesses such a haunting resonance, such an affective nature, that it forcibly permeates your skin, pushes through your muscles and tendons to slink into your bones for the rest of your mortal existence. It clings to you desperately, opening your eyes wider, letting down your self-made barriers, reminding you of the wonderful, the beautiful, and the altogether magical things residing within the universe. Some people cling to other vices to experience such revelations, but to me, my gateway into this quasi-nirvanic state is music---pure, simple, inspired.

Maybe I am a little crazy---or maybe you are just a little bit jealous---but a little spontaneity never hurt anyone, did it?

Full review, report, and other related tidbits when I return the following evening.