Furry Things
The Big Saturday Illusion

THE REVIEW

To understand how neglected this group is, just think that you can’t even find them on Soulseek, despite the enormous amount of stuff of every genre and musical form that such a program has accustomed us to offer.

For the series "I’m so nostalgic for the '90s," I rediscovered this group a few years ago while browsing an old issue of "Tutto" (yes, that rubbish!) dated August 1996 where the Furry Things were mentioned in a short paragraph as one of the interesting promises of the moment. Yet they had an unfortunate life (as a band) if after just two albums they broke up and no one mentions them anymore in a manual, retropolis, or some other delightful recollection dedicated to times past. But the album in question remains a bomb, despite the "distracted" historians: take the Sonic Youth noise-making school (and who can disregard it if you want to do psychedelia in the '90s??), and then the ethereal atmospheres of Shoegaze, and combine it all with a genetic propensity (they’re from Texas, it’s worth noting) for jam sessions, mostly about "losing" and "losing" the song, where the blues has become a subdued and stripped-down abstraction.

In short, what you can't miss from their "fathers" Red Crayola and 13th Floor Elevators if you want to do psychedelia in Texas. In the instrumental tracks, they even manage to sound modern, besides the wonderful synthesis already described, where they sketch surreal portraits very naively, where they even brush against drone.

Ethereal and conceptual but never cold, rather tied to a tradition that is a pretext to never lose sight of the physicality of communicative necessity, namely the riff and the Dionysian presence of the drums, the voice that "fixes" the song before its evanescence, the bass that does not shirk from its function of repeating a line, the Furry Things remain a reality that would truly be a shame to forget: a small hidden gem of '90s psychedelia, and perhaps even more.