Nick S. issues forth gusts from the windows of the Piff Hut. Honestly, I know what he’s saying, but still, you can’t control the audience. The band does feel a little tamer, but still remarkably effective. Sitting here listening to the Brand Fucking New issue of Lullabies to Violane, I think my Cocteau Twins reference was even more prescient; sub-space gets clicked again in dark swathes, and at their best, what was Animal Collective the other night if not a bunch of New Age Steppers? Sure, “We Tigers” and “The Other Jamz That Kind of Sound like ‘We Tigers’” were great, and I don’t get tired of the screaming thing, but I was into the MIDNIGHT of their set, the violet streaks of Graceland and the echos of Big Youth or I. Roy (honestly, Avey Tare live always reminds me of Jamaican deejay culture more than anything). But that’s my mindspace; I’m always up for a challenge, and while I think AC are getting to be more of a comfort food than a magic mushroom, I think it’s just as much a testament to the havoc that they may have wreaked on my brain as anything else.