The three members of Animal Collective are squeezed into a Skype frame when I ask them about their favorite dinosaurs. Dave “Avey Tare” Portner’s answer is instant: the Ankylosaurus, a nasty-looking quadrupedal with dozens of spikes stuck to its back. Brian “Geologist” Weitz settles on the Parasaurolophus, a horned herbivore. Noah “Panda Bear” Lennox stays silent. It feels silly to push the issue.

Dinosaurs are integral to next month’s Painting With, the band’s first new record in nearly four years. It was recorded at Los Angeles’ EastWest Studios, where no shortage of savants—including the Beach Boys, Frank Sinatra, and Michael Jackson—have made some of their most memorable music. Unsurprisingly, Animal Collective found a way to put their own twist on the hallowed locale. They brought in a baby pool. They dimmed the lights and lit candles. And they projected dinosaurs onto the walls, creating what Portner calls a “prehistoric” vibe, whirling the group millions of years into the past. “It started to mess with me a little bit,” admits Weitz, noting that the band pulled 12 hour days for more than a month; after a week of the intense schedule and setting, he began allotting 20 minutes a day to go outside and see the sun.

They visualized the album as what Weitz calls “an electronic drum circle,” resulting in the loosest Animal Collective record in years. They eschewed slow jams for a set of songs inspired by more elemental pleasures: early Beatles, early Ramones, and Tin Pan Alley-era songwriters—artists who could make a lot happen in a short amount of time. Painting With was their first album recorded in the sprawling, car-oriented metropolis of L.A., where they found it easy to stay isolated in their own creative environment. Another first: They created the album without performing any of its songs in concert beforehand.

Painting With was made without sometime member Josh “Deakin” Dibb, who took time off from the band to focus on his own music, but the trio did bring in Colin Stetson, a multi-instrumentalist who’s worked with Arcade Fire, Bon Iver, and Tom Waits, as well as Velvet Underground co-founder and experimental rock icon John Cale. Stetson contributed to “FloriDada,” the free-spirited first single, while Cale recorded droning noises on “Hocus Pocus” that sound like primordial ooze bubbling over the pot.

The record features some of Animal Collective’s knottiest and darkest lyrics to date, ranging from commentary on the war in Ukraine to a song about recycling that makes it sound like the apocalypse is nigh. Even so, they’re not without jokes. “Golden Gal” opens up with a familiar sample of dialogue from “Golden Girls” before morphing into a meditation on gender politics; the classic TV nod offers a lifesaver in a shaky sea, something the band has always been happy to loan. Meanwhile, on “Hocus Pocus,” one couplet smartly encapsulates the entire 17-years-and-counting Animal Collective mission at large: “Wander from the cynical/ Take a look at views atypical.”