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Holy Christ!!!
And here I'll immediately stop with the swear words, even though I have many things to write about it... ok, let's try to quickly explain the reasons for my heartburn, for being so upset this afternoon.
So let's start from a few minutes ago when I posted a Superchunk track in the listening section; a quick check on the site of how many of the band's albums are reviewed and I realize they are almost totally ignored, except for a beautiful page by our great Pinhead. There are no logical explanations for this utterly illogical absence; we are talking about a seminal band in the nineties of American Indie Rock. I am the first to blame myself because in seven years of "debaserian militancy" I never noticed this total void, this oversight.
Artists, bands, albums reviewed an infinite number of times; and then you come across this sort of "mmmerda embarrassment" which is truly embarrassing.
A gap that I will partially fill by jotting down two quick and caustic thoughts on the second album by the guys from North Carolina, released in October 1991, just one year after their self-titled debut.
Produced and recorded in 36 hours (yes, you read that right THIRTY-SIX hours) by a certain Steve Albini who tries to give some semblance of order and relative tranquility to the sonic outbursts of the band; succeeding only partially because the work is a condensate of energy, of songs shot and played at a sidereal speed, without too much attention to form. They put their heart into it, they put their soul into it, they spit blood.
Twelve songs in just over half an hour!!
Noise and nervousness cubed.
A few brief restrained, thoughtful passages.
But they are in a hurry to play, they have fire in their instruments.
Like "Little Dinosaurs" in the grip of hallucinatory detonations: listening to the opening track Skip Steps 1 & 3 is worth much more than what I have written so far!! Equally impressive is the explosive and very brief Punch Me Harder played with youthful vehemence capable of destroying guitar strings so "stretched" to the limit.
Albini manages to steer them towards less distorted sounds, towards an always abrasive Power-Pop to put it briefly. And then it's only right to mention the concluding Throwing Things.
Saw them live for the album tour in May 1992 at Kryptonight in Baricella; they opened for Mudhoney. I remember them as shy, bewildered at the beginning of their brief performance. But once the amps were turned on, the shyness gave way to an unforgettable sound wall!!
What incredible, legendary years for me...
Ad Maiora.
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