“Life in Hell” by The Woolen Men is about as spontaneous a recording as one could possibly hope for. The bootleg recording quality of the track, allowing non-performance related sounds such as the clanging of dishes and glasses in the background just add to the aura of the track. The guitar holding its tuning in much the same way as a barroom honky-tonk piano (with the lowest string tuned down at least a step), while the singer’s voice carries over top with no amplification; it’s all part of the character of the recording, and it puts the listener right there in the middle of it. In a few words, I love the way that this song sounds from a recording stand point. The opening line, “I don’t belong here in this place, I don’t belong here with you” draws the listener in, with verse after verse heaping on the feelings of suppression and desperation.
The singers voice and style reminds me of an EP that I covered a few years ago by Andrew Lindsay & the Coathooks, particularly the track “The Boat Outside.” There is just something about the way that the singers’ delivery that sounds similar, or at least familiar.
And below is the claymation video for Eyelids’ track “Seagulls into Submission.” The subdued, throwback track instantly reminds me of “Twice Removed” era Sloan, or Yuck’s debut dialed way back. Either way it’s got the sort of neo-mid 90’s sound that combines elements of shoegaze’s hushed vocals, with the some chord changes and solos that sound something like Guided By Voices in a way. I know I’m throwing a lot of references around, but the track is basically a great combination of a few different sounds, and it comes out sounding perfect.
The Woolen Men and Eyelids have just put out a split 7″ with Off Records, which is where “Life In Hell” comes from. “Seagulls Into Submission” comes from Eyelids’ own 7″ of the same name, which can also be picked up through Off Records. Maybe you didn’t have a chance to get out this weekend for Record Store Day? Here’s your chance to make up for it and help support Portland’s Off Records at the same time.
Add another band to the list of “ungoogle-able bands.” They’re in good company though. I mean, Women is one of my favorite bands of all time and they are tricky/impossible to do a google search on.
So many thoughts and memories came rushing to mind as soon as I started listening to this Nothing album. Shoegaze is, to start off generally, one of the first and most noticeable characteristics of Nothing’s sound. But it’s not all just a My Bloody Valentine cloud of distortion. Inside that wall is a concentrated core that contains so many recognizable elements.
Hum, The Smashing Pumpkins, Longwave, all of these emerge from Nothing (the more I mention the band by name the more it sounds like I am making some lofty philosophical statement: “they all emerge from Nothing.” Or maybe it would be better to say “they all emerge from the sound of Nothing.”)
The hushed vocals, thick power chords, persistent focus on one long drawn out harmony like the band is carving a path through a thick, dense fog, all coming out of the shoegaze tradition. But, this isn’t a bad thing. No bands are out there really doing the same thing. I suppose We Were Promised Jetpacks is going for an approximation of the same aesthetic, but really the details are quite different. Nothing re-presents shoegaze in much the same way that Yuck re-presented grunge with their first album.
“Guilty of Everything” is dark in tone, which is unavoidable given the parameters. There is something slightly sinister, or at least ominous about that combination of relaxed, whispered vocals and a barrage of loud guitars. One can’t help but have a visceral reaction. You get pulled into the music listening intently to the vocal, which in turn results in getting lost inside the sound of that barrage of guitars.
And the quieter moments shouldn’t be overlooked. I’m reminded of some of the more introspective moments on “Siamese Dream” like “Mayonnaise” or the end of “Hummer,” throughout the titular track of this album. Moments that work to just pull the listener in with ringing open strings that cut through the wall of guitars; feedback that squeals uncontrollably for a few seconds in the background–it’s all here. Another distinct connection comes in the form of “You’d Prefer an Astronaut” era Hum that comes out loud and clear on “Dig” (listen to “Little Dipper” below to compare).
“Guilty of Everything” is certainly an entrancing debut that will resonate strongly with listeners who grew up listening The Smashing Pumpkins and My Bloody Valentine, but I’m sure it will also manage to draw a new crowd that may have missed the chance to experience those bands when they were first around (and not a shell of their former selves like they are today). Nothing still has a few shows coming up in March, while their debut album is set for release on March 4th through Relapse Records. Check the links below to pre-order the album and to connect with the band all over the internet.
Finally, after all the hype of indie culture coming to the mainstream, with Arcade Fire winning the Album of the Year Grammy and every band everywhere looking for a unique sound, we get an album that gives us exactly what we need. Yuck has delivered an album that has garnered a lot of attention for its fresh sound that, ironically, is captured by going back to sounding like the music of the 1990’s.
It is funny to think that we can actually refer to this music accurately by saying that it sounds reminiscent to the songs of late last century. A time when MTV actually played music. When shows like “120 Minutes” would showcase music that was up and coming, college radio fare that was not getting much, if any, mainstream attention. I’m sure I am not the only one that remembers staying up late as a kid to catch a glimpse of all the cool, obscure music that was coming out so that I could slyly reference it later in school when talking to my friends. Man, they would think I was so cool. Not that Yuck’s music embraces obscure acts of a bygone era. On the contrary, it captures the essence of the indie rock scene of the 90s that we all know and love but may have passed by those who were not paying attention. This music is a celebration of a time gone by, though its return is more than welcome.
I read a description online of Yuck as a “rock revival” act. Though I know the point that this particular review was getting at I still find it frustrating that the very people that listen to and love rock music are constantly claiming that it is a dead artform. Take for example every time that The Strokes, or any member of The Strokes, releases an album. The magazine covers seem to always ask, “Can The Strokes save rock?” as if it is a genre that is gone, or at least deteriorated and in need of rescuing. I don’t know if Yuck has the power, or even the willingness to “rescue” rock music but they have crafted a beautiful album that is large in scope and certainly charming in its reminiscence of music that music fans of my generation grew up listening to.
Yuck - "Yuck"
Strands of early Sloan, early Smashing Pumpkins, Thrush Hermit, Hum, Sebadoh, The Burdocks and Dinosaur Jr. (in the album’s noisier moments) shine through track after track. The album doesn’t come off sounding like some unearthed relic, nor does it feel or sound old or stale in the slightest. Ideas and sound taken from the 90s are developed a bit with tighter rhythm section behind the initial wall of shoegazey noise.
I’m sure that there will be plenty of people tossing around the term “post-modern” in reference to Yuck. Sure, if the shoe fits, but those that dismiss this album as a simple throwback are missing the point. This album and this band seem to be reminding a tired, fractured and disenfranchised indie-rock fan base, that is constantly pulled from one direction to the next, of where we have come from. Perhaps this album can serve as a reset point where we can ponder the roots of all that is coming out today. Or, perhaps this album can serve as a direct line connecteing the music of today to the music of twenty years ago as an alternate reality where an overabundance of easily reproducable, easily attainable music never came to be and therefore never forced fans to choose one of a mulitude of made up genres to which they pledge their unflagging allegiance. Imagine good music stripped of hipster culture. This, I believe, is the world in which Yuck longs to exist.
The album is an “album”. By that I mean that it is a complete journey from beginning to end. Noisy rockers such as album opener “Get Away”, “The Wall” and “Holing Out” are broken up by quieter, more contemplative material such as “Stutter”, “Suicide Policeman” and “Rose Gives a Lilly”. All the songs feature prominently catchy hooks and layered guitar work. “Shook Down”, with its duetting boy/girl vocal, is especially effective as is the up-tempo distored folkiness of “Georgia”.
It seemed to come at us out of nowhere but now we are 20 years past the Seattle “grunge” explosion and just as far are we from the surge of great music that came out of the Halifax scene around the same time. It seems that this is just about the perfect time for a band like Yuck to bring us right back to the comfort of our indie-rock roots.
Soundgarden has reformed, Sebadoh and Dinosaur Jr. have been playing shows, and Beavis and Butthead is returning to television. It seems that a full on 90s reboot is taking shape. It’s a good thing that a band like Yuck can make something new amidst all this looking back.
