Failure
Comfort

1992. The three Los Angeles-based Failure release "Comfort". At the helm is a certain Steve Albini. The timing is right, or rather just beyond right. Perfect, I'd say. In Seattle, "grunge" is triumphant. Nevermind has made a smashing success. Cobain is a semi-god.

Ken Andrews (vocals and guitar) and company know how to write songs. They mix hard rock, pop melodies, some Pixies-style riffs, and moderate dissonances. The singing sticks with you as well. It reminds you of Kurt, less visceral and explosive, but it definitely reminds you. All the ingredients for making buckets of money are there. Back then, I would have bet a testicle on these Failure, but luckily in '92 I was 7 years old. Luckily? Yes, because I would find myself in 2012 with one more disappointment and one less ball.

An honest album. Not a heartless grunge revival like Bush or Silverchair. I mean, even Albini got involved. An album still in time to sound Nirvana-like. "Macaque" starts with a Zeppelin-esque riff, transforming into the typical "clean verse/distorted chorus" ride. "Something" opens with a dissonant arpeggio and soon explodes into pure power pop. Stuff that's extremely easy to sing along to, in other words. "Screen Man" vaguely noisy and claustrophobic throws a pixies-like riff in your face when you least expect it.

A band with a soul, although derivative to an alarming degree. A more than good album that fulfills its little task well.

If your copy of Nevermind is so worn out it doesn't even spin in a subatomic particle accelerator anymore, give Comfort a listen. Not a masterpiece of originality but certainly an excellent work. To be enjoyed all in one go.

(And, in my case, an essential reminder: never bet the family jewels).