The EP’s electric version of “Little Brother”-a six-minute, six-string supernova of a song-remains one of his finest recorded moments with this band. Friend now feels like an essential release in Grizzly Bear’s catalogue, home to a live staple (their creepy, cavernous reconstruction of the Crystals’ “He Hit Me”) and a pivotal moment in guitarist Daniel Rossen’s evolving and increasingly distinct style. But when you listened, it was clear that this was much more than some half-assed stop-gap between proper albums. Friend featured alternate takes of old songs, a few covers (some by the band themselves and some by contemporaries like Band of Horses and CSS), and a self-recorded demo. Take, for example, their 2007 Friend EP: Judging from the tracklist, it might have seemed like an “expanded” version of the previous year’s breakthrough Yellow House.
The Brooklyn-based craftsmen of sepia-toned chamber pop have a history of putting out non-album releases that are much better and more meticulously arranged than they need to be. Leave it to Grizzly Bear, though, to be an exception to the rule. But whatever the reason, we’ve gotten to a place where albums have Frankensteinian titles like Pink Friday: Roman Reloaded - The Re-Up, and the extra, wait-wait-there’s-more material on these revamps often feels obligatory, forced, and better off back in the vault. Blame the ever-accelerating nostalgia cycle, the desperate marketing tactics of a wheezing industry, or the everyone-on-the-team-gets-a-trophy mentality of our youth probably just blame all three. These days it’s easy to feel skeptical about words like “deluxe,” “expanded,” “rebooted,” or any other focus-grouped synonym-particularly when they’re attached to the name of a record you could have sworn came out a few months ago. The Special Edition is no longer special.