|Label:||In The Red|
Steven Seagal's son, Ty Segall, is a busy cunt. I like busy cunts. Punting out decent music. Keeping busy. Unlike his father ,Ty is a strong purveyor of the garage rawk thing. A new gaggle of valve-melting garage acts with big, sweet songs blew up in a big way around 2000 thanks to Jack Shite. There were so many bands around then thinking they were The Gories that the familiarity of that particular sound suffered through breeding contempt. After hearing 'Slaughterhouse', I can put my hands up and say this is a band doing it well, although it did send me to sleep one too many times on the bus.
It sounds and feels like a record you have listened to a hundred times. No bad thing either. Especially when it sounds like a good record you have listened to a hundred times. Such is the catchiness of the songs and the precision in following grubby rock 'n' roll guidelines, over the course of the album, a dominant thought is “Oh, I know this song!” Some of you might know the Fred Neil classic “Bag I'm in”; the version here is a cover of some garage band's (Bottom Bells or something) interpretation, but many of the original tracks have that classic feel to them too.
'Slaughterhouse' is a storm-bomb fuzz rock explosion of a live band going hard at it. Using his touring band to record the album live benefits the sound greatly. Check out 'I bought my eyes', sounding like the 13th Floor Elevators without the mental health issues or the genius aspect. 'Wave Goodbye' is another stoater, its heads-down riff romp like something that fell off the Nuggets compilation. The tasty production alone would be enough to ensure I enjoy this album, and though it lacks an element of that death-or-glory madness to send it stratospheric, it's a rock solid bit of garage psych.
Posted: Tue 24 July 2012