Geogaddi is a fascinating record. It's enjoyable most for its strangeness, in fact it is very strange, so strange that repeat listens don't really unfold anything new about it but keep the strange factor at a peak. It's a bit like Radiohead's Kid A in that everything is so flatlined and based around the production that even though the first listen is curious and inviting, future listens do nothing to add to the mystery, yet it always remains mysterious.
It's a pure electronic record, and among the more memorable ones, even though it has its problems. Again, how this gets called Intelligent Dance Music (TM*) is beyond me, because while intelligent it's not at all danceable. It's been seven years or so since I first heard this record and it opened me up to a lot of new musical ideas, but it's still kind of funny. The record is full of nature sounds, peaceful sounds, occult references, bleak synths and jarringly slow synthetic noises.
There's nothing natural sounding about this record. Not a live guitar, not a real drum, but it doesn't matter because it's sealed in its own construction that way.
So many songs on here just seem like samplings that aren't even meant to go anywhere. Beware the Friendly Stranger, for example, is a creepy bit of nothing that stands as something of no meaning whatsoever, that it comes at the beginning of the record and fades out as quick, is strange. But then you have the creepy, cool tunes, the psychotic Gyroscope, which seems to have a kid counting behind a broken drum machine in reverse, and the bizarre Dandelion, which is a Leslie Nielson sample from a nature show with him discussing lava flowing underwater. Again, weird, but beautiful. If you can see what they're grasping at with this, you'll probably enjoy this music.
The best songs on here are Julie and Candy and 1969. I love the former the most. I don't even know how a song like this is made. It's got the most joyous framework of happiness but seems trapped in some stellar space of bliss out of time. The whole song sounds so epic, concealed, disconnected, I'd dare say it's one of my ten favorite electronic songs if I made such a list. It makes me wonder why the record drones at times when it can just be surreal, happy and perfect. Most of the songs sound sad, dreadful or creepy, and with songs like this, there's no reason for it.
1969 is also genius. This is the only thing on here that resembles a dance song, and not in a fun way. Mentioning a cult of Branch Dividians in the 'lyrics' the whole thing wavers around like a punch drunk cult track, albeit pure drum led. Actually the drums sound slightly live here. Who knows. The sound good though, definitely the best drums on the record. The only other real highlight is The Beach At Redpoint, because it's powerful, dense and spooky. Again, a bit of a downer, but I can forgive that.
I really dig most of the songs on this record. There's a lot of silly filler everywhere, and it sounds disjointed, which is a shame, but the work itself when you dissect it piece by piece is great and I still highly recommend it.