The second self-titled release by prolific songwriting powerhouse Ty Segall released in January, is a riff raucous, solo induced, monumentous display of old school garage rock. With sounds akin to sixties and seventies rock bands The Stooges, MC5, New York Dolls with pinches of contemporary rock like Queens Of The Stone Age, and White Stripes. For many, old school rock has become painfully mathematical, prescribed and formulaic as the three-chord trick, and a half-witted stereotype of a diseased cousin that once kicked mainstream music in the balls.Ty Segall on the other hand, resuscitates garage rock with a playful strut likely to whet the palette with noise and experimentation a-plenty for old school listeners and millennials too.
Ty Segall’s lo-fi garage rock is a fresh and neoteric brute that is as furious and sweetly neanderthal as its ancestors, brimming with ultra-modern experimentation, quirkiness and personality that never strays from his love of the genre however much he decides to experiment with any given record he releases. Following up from 2016’s epic ‘Emotional Mugger‘, Ty Segall’s 2017 self title is a lot more traditionally structured than it’s forebear. ‘Emotional Mugger’ being a lot more experimental with weirdly compelling vocal melodies, synthy and layered with screeching feedback and layers of distorted guitar.
However, “Self-Title 2” never lets up for one second, and continues to offer fans walls of sheer noise built and blanketed all over each other with bits sticking out everywhere. With samples of smashing crockery with a hammer (I close my eyes and imagine… yes, I have a lot of anger issues, but I’m okay with it!) as well as the seemingly random pounding of piano keys, all adding to the visceral energy of the record. The drums are like rifles in an abattoir; consistent like a focused assassin. The bass is melodic, but at times nothing beats the joy of listening to the thick and filthy gravel of it dragging through the broken floorboards, murky like an open-mouthed deep-throat regurgitation. At the same time, he’s never shy about delivering a quieter moment with some beautifully melodic acoustic songs and piano flourishes, as well as an organ instrumental that sounds a lot like something by The Doors climaxing before the ever-nearing nexus that explodes, takes a breather and then dives back into the riff like an enraged teenage acne tremor, and just keeps coming back.
This record is everything you will love about rock music. It ticks every box. So, you know what to do next… Buy It! Play It! Tell your friends!