From Allmusic guide: Historically, Noah Lennox's solo albums as Panda Bear have been places where he can compartmentalize parts of his musical voice that blur into a larger, more chaotic whole when played out through his role in Animal Collective. This has materialized as the spare, ritualistic acoustic guitar songs of 2004's Young Prayer, the layered vocals and hypnotic samples of his 2007 masterwork Person Pitch, and the dense, watery electronics of later work like 2019's Buoys. Even at their most uproarious, the different phases of Lennox's work have all shared a specific air of solitude, drawing from the deepest reaches of his emotional center, and sounding very much like they were crafted in isolation. Sinister Grift breaks that mold to some extent. The washed-out synths and dreamy, Beach Boys-descendant vocal harmonies of earlier Panda Bear output are still present, but they're joined here by electric guitars, full kit drums, bass, and songs that adhere to more traditional rock band structures. The notably straightforward album opener, "Praise," is a whirl of syrupy, overlapping melodies, with call-and-response vocals and a jarringly cheery instrumental sounding like R.E.M. covering the Ronettes. "50mg" is lazy and tropical, with the sliding guitar lines sailing by acidic synth blurbs, and "Just as Well" takes this beachy essence even further with its shuffling yacht rock rhythm. The wide-open feel of the arrangements, the easily discernible instruments, and the uncharacteristically bubbly tone of the songs all give Sinister Grift the facade of being a friendly, lived-in, full-band effort. By the time "Ferry Lady" comes in halfway through the album with its swishy rhythm and lackadaisical, lost-in-thought lyrics, it's easy to envision Panda Bear and a smiling backing band playing these tunes as they drift by on a boat under cloudless skies. Though there was ample collaboration here (Cindy Lee plays a guitar solo on "Defense" and there are contributions from all of Lennox's Animal Collectivebandmates and Spirit of the Beehive's Rivka Ravede), Lennox plays most of the instruments himself and the majority of the vocals are his signature stacks of reverb-coated self-harmonizing. The illusion of a carefree rock & roll band coasting along is an integral part of the warmth that Sinister Grift cultivates. The last leg of the album is a little cooler and more mysterious than the rest -- the atmospheric "Left in the Cold" is darkly dreamy and "Elegy for Noah Lou" has a scattered, broken way about it -- but even in these less extroverted moments, there's none of the murky, latent dread that was so palpable on earlier efforts like Tomboy. Lennox merely uses the last few songs to gently set us down from the sugar highs and sunny joys that came before. 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.
