Shellac
At Action Park

I am about to review an album that holds significant meaning for me, especially since it was released in a period (1994) when the majors were too busy investing time and money in groups and little groups, even trivial ones, during the height of the grunge explosion.

The band's brains, Steve Albini, is a challenging, sharp, spiteful, at times unpleasant figure but simultaneously brilliant; he was committed to being heard outside of music, criticizing the "money chase" promoted by the aforementioned majors. Shellac (the name is taken from a brand of lacquer made from insect excrement) presents itself as one of the best underground bands in the US between the 80s and 90s: their debut is startling, especially for someone like me at the time who was still unclear about how the music backdrop of alternative U.S. noise-rock operated.

Absolute masterpiece: the momentum and fury here are certainly not repressed, the intricate interplay of the bass, sharp guitar, and drums take life from multiple sources, but unite in a compact ensemble of sounds with Teutonic vibrations. The voice (some tracks are instrumental) is angry and cares less about melody than the message, and this is something we could have expected. But it's a minor detail, given that Shellac aims to make themselves heard more with music than with words.

So indulge in the hard-rock-boogie of Dog And Pony Show, the dissonance of Black Ass, the barely contained outbursts of In A Minute and Il Porno Star (what a title!!!), up to the masterpieces The Idea Of North and Pull The Cup, forerunners of the "stop and go" that much math-rock was about to reach.

So if you ever wondered about getting close to them, now is the time to do it, don't worry they don't stink (despite their name). Run to your trusted retailer and buy it, over time you will realize that money is not always spent haphazardly.