Ash
Trailer

THE REVIEW

In 1994, making a rock album in Northern Ireland couldn’t mean making brit-pop, especially if you are seventeen and have a guitar that still sounds very grunge. The youthful debut of Ash, two years before “Girl From Mars” and the commercial triumph of “1977”, is a precious testimony of a brit-pop prehistory with decidedly American sounds, rough, scratched, and lo-fi. That is, light years away from the brit-sound.

So, between an oral exam and a homework (without touring, because school had to be finished), "Trailer" was born: eleven pieces of early '90s indie-rock, balanced between grunge and punk influences, between Nirvana and Dinosaur Jr. Tim does not yet have a clean and gentle voice, but a raw and unsteady one; his guitar does the work of two, handling both (not trivial) solos and managing the accompaniment, always very effected and noisy; Mark's bass is eternally distorted; Rick’s drums hit hard and don't miss a beat, rarely slowing down. “Intense Thing” is a result well representative of this alchemy between pimply rage and talent: a violent, very raw piece, recorded fairly poorly, with almost noise-like openings. Applause-worthy.

Elsewhere, Ash recalls Pavement, venture into indie territories that will not return in their production, except in some residues of "1977" or in some nostalgic b-side. A pity, because everything here seems to work great. The peaks are “Uncle Pat” and “Petrol”, two songs with simple structure, with a repeated verse that effectively replaces the chorus, a bass that infinitely recycles the same riff, Wheeler who indulges in amused solos, evocative lyrics around a ramshackle and imaginative adolescence. There's an atmosphere of America’s wheat fields, barefoot. The same goes for another remarkable lo-fi indie piece like “Different Today”: a memorable riff, furious drums, a slacker voice lost in a very dirty background.

“Get Out” is pure punk-core: a minute and a half of demonic noise and shouted phrases, while “Punk boy” sounds almost like the punk-rock of the Green Day of those years. There’s even room for two semi-instrumental experiments (“Obscure Thing” and “Hulk Hogan Bubblebath”), between noise and hardcore, between Sonic Youth and the Nirvana of “Bleach”. The more melodic ending of “Day Of The Triffids” is delirious but remarkable, another respectable piece along with the small cult that is the straightforward rock of “Jack Names The Planets”. A hidden gem, American from top to bottom, to be rediscovered.

I’ll finish with some nostalgia. I remember the 7 NME gave this album by unknown seventeen-year-olds: I still keep that dusty copy. But above all I still remember with a certain dose of inexplicable emotion when Ash was guests on an inevitably dreadful show by Red Ronnie on Videomusic. It was after “1977”, in 1996, and the studio was full of screaming punked-out girls who preferred (thankfully) Ash over Take That. And the three, still young, played some songs live. Some they picked themselves, and they were the hits to promote the album: “Girl From Mars”, “Goldfinger”, “Oh Yeah”. However, two tracks were chosen by the screaming punked-out girls. Would you believe it? (You must, because I have a clear memory of it). They had to play, a bit surprised, “Uncle Pat” and “Petrol”: two tracks from "Trailer".

Now, you don't make history with ifs and buts. But it is legitimate to wonder, in the name of those discerning girls, what Ash would be now if they had preserved the carefree courage of this album. Without answering, of course…