Saturday, November 26, 2011

Ty Segall - Goodbye Bread review


Bare with me because I sound like a crazy person in this review and maybe it's wrong to write a review so quickly but fuck it, whatever. While I'm loathe to talk about the Beatles - ever, when I was growing up I heard them a lot because of my parent's love of them. In particular, my Dad was really taken with John Lennon's solo work and the Shaved Fish compilation was played a lot around our house. The thing about Lennon's solo stuff is that so much of it is so weird and seemingly off the cuff, that had he lived it's hard to fathom the kind of work he would have produced as he got older. While I love Oasis (I do), their Beatles obsession was closer to idolatry than inspiration and while they got the sound down, they never really got the vibe. I don't think anyone really has until I heard Ty Segall today.

Yep, that's big statement, total hyperbole and I know it but I'm a bit gushy and lovesick after listening to this album. I'm not suggesting for a second that his music sounds like or is equal to the Beatles and there are a lot of other influences I can pinpoint (Syd Barret/T Rex etc) but what Goodbye Bread immediately reminded me of was the off kilter, rough hemmed magic of Lennon's solo work. Even though there's a little vocal similarity, Segall has his own thing going on - it's just that indefinable spirit that he shares which is so striking. From what I've read, Segall is a classic rock acolyte and maybe that's where I'm getting this impression from but this is a rough and ready album that is endlessly entertaining and endearing.

When I say endearing, look no further than Comfortable Home (A True Story), 60's-esque singalong where Segall wails "She said she wants to buy a couch/I said, why do we have to buy the couch?" This is part of the joy of the record, the songs are filled with small domestic moments and sentiments which are relatable and authentic. The love ode You Make the Sun Fry is a sunny blast which is instantly memorable while the winding and clattering pop of The Floor is one of the albums highlights. Even better still is Where Your Head Goes - a mini pysch rock out which ticks every box for late nights, booze and good music. The album veers between a scratchy garage rock sounds to more straight up pop shenanigans but it is never less than breathtaking.

Sure it's lo-fi and all the internet banter is about the similarity to Jay Reatard but forget all the comparisons (mine included) as I really think Segall has something special going on here. If this review sounds like I'm a little drunk, I must apologise - it's rare that I get such an instant connection and excitement from an artist on first listen but that in itself speaks volumes to me. This is one of those records that I missed earlier in the year but I'm hooked and will immediately hunt down all his other stuff. I suddenly have a new contender for album of the year.

*Thanks to Adam for putting me onto this.

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