Hole
Pretty On The Inside

THE REVIEW

This album, recorded at Caroline Records and released by the independent City Slang, introduced Hole to the American underground scene, which at the time was preparing its comeback, and even though this was more in commercial terms, it was not lacking in authenticity and originality, which were indeed the main characteristics of the grunge era. Often, in my opinion mistakenly, Hole are associated with the 'riot grrls,' a movement born within grunge, championed by bands like Bikini Kill of the legendary Kathleen Hanna or L7 of the hardcore Donita Sparks... but if you listen closely, Hole, musically speaking, are something extremely different, something much more complex and heartfelt compared to the screeching shouts of a Kathleen Hanna or the absurd lyrics of a Donita Sparks. Or at least, that's how they promised at the start of their career, which blossomed under the most favorable auspices thanks to a certain Kim Gordon, bassist of Sonic Youth, an independent group fundamental to the formation of the then new generation... some call them the "parents of grunge." Kim Gordon's faith in Courtney Love and her band was certainly not unfounded... after all, the talent was undeniable. The resulting album is one that "feeds on discomfort"... from the first to the last track, it's a single, endless chant that disturbs... zero melody and all Sonic Youth-style noise.

We are certainly not dealing with an easy-to-listen-to album... and for what it's worth, not even a pleasant one, in fact, it gives a sense of suffocation in its disarming phrases and its distorted guitar riffs which reveal the presence of an undoubtedly skilled musician, Eric Erlandson. The sound is pervaded by a sense of anguish, of waiting for a timely moment and at the same time of impatience. The music is the total reproduction of the expressed thoughts. It is "full hatred," it is alienation. Alienation that becomes denunciation. Denunciation towards a system in which one cannot and does not want to recognize oneself. But there is nothing extremely obvious... everything is extremely allegorical, even when the song is titled "Teenage Whore" or "Garbage Man".
The absence of melody betrays the sense of estrangement in the face of a reality, manifold in its facets, that is forced to conform under the depersonalizing impact of social conventions. And Courtney, a great voice, perhaps the best female voice in rock, sings of a corrupted authenticity, of sold innocence, of faded candor, of disturbed sound, of music that unsettles us but is finished, of the total and unfortunately necessary absence of respect, peace, love, empathy, among people.

An honest, spontaneous, authentic album, without compromises, probably under-refined, immature from a compositional standpoint, a sort of sketch. Certainly the sketch of the best ideas that ever came to mind.