Ty Segall Band - Slaughterhouse [2012] [FLAC]

Artist: Ty Segall Band
Release: Slaughterhouse
Discogs: 3608726
Released: 2012-06-26
Label: In The Red Recordings
Catalog#: ITR 231
Format: FLAC / Lossless / Log (100%) / Cue / CD
Country: US
Style: Rock, Garage Rock, Psychedelic Rock

Tracklisting:

01. Death
02. I Bought My Eyes
03. Slaughterhouse
04. The Tongue
05. Tell Me What's Inside Your Heart
06. Wave Goodbye
07. Muscle Man
08. The Bag I'm In
09. Diddy Wah
10. Oh Mary
11. Fuzz War

Psych-pop wünderkind Ty Segall likes to set his stall out early. The best-known member of ‘Cisco’s blossoming garage-punk scene (see also Mikal Cronin and Thee Oh Sees) released his first record of the year – a collaboration with White Fence called Hair – in April, and then promptly promised two more before the year’s end.
He opens the second 33.333% of his 2012 output by laying waste to the notion that garage rock is outdated with a riot of churning feedback and hair-singeing riffs – and he doesn’t let up thereafter.
Segall hinted at such dark arts earlier in the year when he told an interviewer, “I want to make a really heavy record: evil space rock.” This is that album. Those familiar with Segall’s last two releases, including his relatively storm-less solo effort Goodbye Bread, will find him armed with a new nail-studded club of a sound. He doesn’t just bash through the fourth wall – he destroys everything beyond it, before leaving the wreckage to smoulder over 10 closing minutes of white noise called Fuzz War.
This is gnarly, bones-for-drumsticks, broken-beer-bottle-wielding stuff that proves old done-to-death genres are still fair game if you play with this sort of manic conviction. From scene-setting opener Death, through the Dead Moon-inspired title track, a cacophonous and grungy Tongue, and honeyed Tell Me What’s Inside Your Heart, the band is fuelled by a cocktail of reckless energy. R&B rhythms crash in, licks are played so fast the band should wear their calluses as badges of honour, and lots (and lots) of wailing ensues.
Only on a delirious version of railroad-blues classic Diddy Wah Diddy, which Segall introduces shouting, “Alright, here we go: extra fast,” does it sound like the band are tumbling down a wrought-iron fire escape. Mostly, Segall and his band (featuring Mikal Cronin) display an impressive ability on these blazing freak-outs.
But then, if they didn’t, they wouldn’t make it past 10 seconds of each firestorm without collapsing into dust. In short: this is dark, feverish garage rock as it’s meant to be played.