Sinister Grift

There’s very little sinister about Sinister Grift, at least, not in the album’s warm and glimmering instrumentation. And that unsteady ground—of appearances versus what’s under the hood—only adds to the mystique and enjoyment of Panda Bear’s music.

The Beach Boys and Merseybeat stylings are still present, only without a single note wasted; every gesture, shaker, blurp of synth, bubble of spring reverb feels deliberate and functional. The songwriting benefits from this directness, striking an effective balance between chipper pop hooks and more introspective, often sombre lyricism. [Apr 2025, p.56]

Sinister Grift is a significant chapter in the Panda Bear story if only for how it finds Lennox shedding some of the stubborn uneasiness that’s so long been part of his music. While still mainly the product of a solitary mind, the album is perhaps the least lonely Panda Bear has sounded to date.

Sinister Grift, as the title implies, has a shadowy underbelly, a curious tension at its heart that makes it equal parts happy and sad. Yet it is a beautiful record throughout, enjoying the freedom that characterises Panda Bear’s best work.

Listeners entranced by the pop smarts of its opening tracks may give up and turn Sinister Grift off as the whole thing dissolves into mournful, introspective and abstract territory, returning only to cherry-pick the more user-friendly moments for a playlist. But if you pay attention to the words, you can’t say Lennox didn’t warn you, and for those minded to stick with it, there’s something striking and believable about its emotional arc.

Textured, emotionally rich, and transportive, it’s a soothing balm for uncertain times. If you’re looking for an opportunity to get away from the noise, you could do a lot worse than Panda Bear’s latest escape into the ethereal.

Panda Bear’s penchant for innovation has always seemed to conflate seamlessly with his distinctive creative vision. On ‘Sinister Grift’, this takes a more accessible form, showcasing the robustness of his songwriting and ultimately cementing itself as a complete and vivid work.

Lennox’s Sinister Grift proves that the artist is far from done evolving. Its loss of its refreshingly underproduced consistency is a testament to Lennox’s maturity and songwriting.

Perfectly sequenced, Sinister Grift's dubious uplift gradually falls away to reveal an exquisite melancholy introspection, the sound of optimism weighted by mooring hooks of sadness. [Apr 2025, p.86]

If you’re looking for another Bros or Good Girl / Carrots, it ain’t here. What there is, ten tracks co-produced with Animal Collective bandmate Josh Dibb, is worth celebrating. These are meticulously crafted songs performed by one of modern music’s most distinguished vocalists.

Sinister Grift may feature some of Lennox’s best work since “My Girls,” but none of it is reheated. There isn’t a song here that will trap you in Smiley Smile dispatches like “Comfy in Nautica” or “Bros” did 18 years ago, sure, but “Praise” does get incredibly close.

They're lean and immediate in nature, with melodic ease that belies lyrics awash with loss, uncertainty, regret, overwhelm and defeat, feelings that sit on the surface, undisguised. [Mar 2025, p.40]

It's most intriguing when Lennox deviates from catchy pop nuggets. [Apr 2025, p.103]