Siberian Breaks

"...One of which is 'Siberian Breaks', MGMT's most ambitious undertaking yet. Just over 12 minutes long, 'Siberian Breaks' starts off in breezy MOR fashion, gentle harmonies giving it a 70s Todd Rundgren-vibe. Soon, though, they're ramping up the reverb, 'Siberian Breaks' taking its first left turn after 2 minutes, veering into a quietly seething stomp and then turning into a different song entirely 4 minutes in, resembling the Twin Peaks soundtrack if Jason Pierce got his valium-stained mitts on it. Next, airy, atmospheric keyboards lead it out of the hazy wilderness before the chorus (well, sort of) comes booming in at around 8 minutes. But hold on – we ain't finished yet, or rather 'Siberian Breaks' isn't – just when you think the whole thing is about to peter out 10 minutes in (IDIOT!), in comes bleeping, starry-eyed synths, twinkling like the intro to Radiohead's 'Let Down' and lending 'Siberian Breaks' a suitably cosmic finale. MGMT tried out a 14-minute song on 'Oracular Spectacular' b-side 'Metanoia'"[6]

"It’s almost unfair to discuss Siberian Breaks in a track-by-track review because it feels like more than one track. In 12 minutes, it carries out the promises made by Flash Delirium and changes shape constantly and without warning. Andrew Vanwyngarden has said Siberian Breaks is about eight different songs strung together - and listening to it again, eight might be underestimating things. The song begins in the same folkadelic territory as Song For Dan Treacy but steadfastly refuses to stay put. Over its full course, Siberian Breaks grows to accommodate distorting synthesizers, stadium-sized drums and a change of time signature. It passes through a shimmering synthtopia to a powerful glam chorus (of sorts) and finally runs out of steam in an ambient delirium of bleeping synths. The sections sometimes blend seamlessly together and sometimes jar uncomfortably but you have to admire the ambition of this rag-tag monolith."[7]

• Official website
• MGMT's Congratulations website