Reviews

Siltbreeze

Cuticles Major Works LP

Blown-out, hook-packed ramshackle garage pop from Kiwi DIY lifers (if name-dropping the PORTAGE or NUX VOMICA doesn’t mean anything to you, it should), traipsing through the kaleidoscope world of early Flying Nun as they gleefully kick up dirt all around them. If there’s an obvious comparison for CUTICLES’ freewheeling tumble between melody and noise, it’s Siltbreeze alums TIMES NEW VIKING, who (for better or worse) helped usher in the mid-’00s “shitgaze” blog hype tag with their scuzzy, in-the-red CLEAN daydreams—the slightly out-of-sync, sweet-but-not-too-sweet vocal harmonies from CUTICLES guitarists Matt Plunkett and Lisa Preston, the subterranean warble of keyboards buried under layers of fuzz and distortion, the get in/get out economy of their eccentric two-minute pop songs not overpowering a willingness to also get weirder and more atonal as it strikes their fancy (the collapsing sax-skronk outro of “Helping Out My Dad,” or the ranting, menacing thud of “Democracy or Dictatorship” sounding like the FALL covering the DEAD C’s “Bad Politics”). It’s a bit of a backwards reference, given that CUTICLES are actually from New Zealand, and Lisa Preston in particular has been behind some crucial ’80s NZ deep cuts that I’m sure their Buckeye labelmates studied rather intently, but you’d still be hard-pressed to find a finer example of the form than Major Works.

Famous Mammals Instant Pop Expressionism Now! LP

Two years ago, Amber Sermeño (the WORLD, NAKED ROOMMATE), Stanley Martinez (RAYS, CHILDREN MAYBE LATER, also the WORLD), and Andy Jordan (a.k.a. ANDY HUMAN, also in the WORLD and one million other Bay Area bands) dropped a limited-run cassette as FAMOUS MAMMALS. It was an absolutely fantastic debut from an act that seemed to come out of nowhere and disappear just as quickly. I’d assumed it was a throwaway project that just so happened to be great, but no. They’ve apparently spent the interim since that release going deeply method as a troupe of UK DIY musicians. This is no longer a Bay Area act pretending to be a band that grew up in high-rise flats above King’s Road or a council estate in Manchester—this is now that actual band. And the results are exceptional. If I hadn’t known the deal before going in, I’m sure you could convince me this album was assembled by some hitherto unknown, staunchly independent CRASS-like collective wed by a way of doing things rather than a particular output they’re striving for. The eighteen tracks on this record cover such a wide array of sounds and styles: a mix of early FALL discordant clang, “Lady Godiva’s Operation” grimy but gentle meandering, “Don’t Throw Ashtrays at Me!” noisy ambience, warbly They Could Have Been Bigger Than the Beatles dejected yet twee psychedelic rock, and stripped-down, talk-sung ballads that could be a cross between MARINE GIRLS and YOUNG MARBLE GIANTS; it’s hard to imagine this coming from just the three musicians. And while I just rattled off a ton of stuff this sounds like, I want to be clear that this is far from cosplay. The songwriting is so distinct and the execution (including what I would consider the perfect fidelity production) near flawless that you’ll have no doubt this is an original undertaking. Easily the best record I’ve heard all year.

Vertical Slit Live at Brown’s LP

An archival live recording that is almost weird to review because if you’re already in the cult of the elusive Jim Shepard, you’ll likely be picking this up regardless. But as someone merely Shepard-curious, this recording doesn’t do justice to the real oddball home-recorded stuff. What Live at Browns brings to the table is Shepard’s band doing a set—a total statement, not just the compiled tunes previously available on past releases. Which is cool, but for me, it’s those more intimate, sketchy, and loopy recordings that sound like they are decomposing before your ears that sound so ahead of their time. For example, on “Fair Exchange” from Slit and Pre-Slit, a compilation of ’70s VERTICAL SLIT recordings, the music reminds me of early, cassette-recorded DANIEL JOHNSTON, if not in style, in fidelity and outsider eeriness. Live at Browns’ “Fair Exchange,” here as “Fair Exchange/Maid in Heaven,” comes off a bit more like straightforward rock with its guitar licks and more conventional vocal attack. Most inspired is the recording of “Smudge” which improves on the previous version from And Beyond, taking on a SABBATH-tinged stoner metal vibe. There is only so much material out there, and if you missed it (and pretty much all of us missed it), here’s a chance to catch it in its full glory—especially if you’re a completist.