California X
California X

THE REVIEW

They are a trio from Amherst, they've built a beautiful wall of fuzz on punk dynamics, playing grunge that's as twisted and violent as it is melodic and anthemic.

Let’s see why California X aren’t Dinosaur Jr: because Lemmy - Lemmy! - Gurtowsky obviously isn’t J Mascis, and even though he has a bold soloist attitude and is out in front, he doesn't have either the talent or the prolixity of Young - in the sense of Neil, not Angus, mind you - of our friend. Despite the fact that supersonicity is a determining factor for both, and although listening to tracks like Spirit World - devastating, truly - one can imagine Gurtowsky playing in front of three massive Marshall fridges just like good ol' Mascis, it's necessary to admit that without the mess, California X would be just another band, while the Jr. would likely still be legends - and to support my thesis I put Green Mind on the table: which is a complicated way of saying that California X is all sound and little songwriting. Do you know Cloud Nothings before and after Albini? No? There you go. At times - Mummy, blatantly - it sounds like Dinosaur Jr. playing Bouncing Souls covers. Know them? No? There you go. And then we’re in January of two-thousand-thirteen, the new My Bloody Valentine album is out unexpectedly, and for some years now it's been cool to pile on echo on vocals - some like it, I like it - and even California X has adapted: they play in the living room, and Gurtowsky sings in the bathroom.

But don’t get me wrong, I’m perfectly fine with an album that's all sound and little substance, when the sound is like this: the nearly seven minutes of Sucker at the start are like kicks to the teeth, the sudden explosions and stop and go of Pond Rot - remember Pond Song? No? It was in Bug - fill my ears perfectly and in short, this concentrate of distortions is pure gold, probably the best debut of the year, barring any surprises.