Ty Segall

Ty Segall

Drag City

Jan 27, 2017 Issue # 59 - 15th Anniversary Bookmark and Share


Find It At: AMAZON

Crunchy and resolute, Ty Segall's newest self-titled toaster turns up some unearthed crust and butter that is both satiating and balanced. The 29-year-old's ninth studio offering is his second self-titled, but one shouldn't view that as an invitation to call it a reinvention.

For Segall, reinvention is never as far as the next songsometimes it's never as far as the next minute in the same song. It seems reinvention is not what Segall is interested in, but invention. He translates himself in every switch, pitch, trip, and ramble through some sort of musical kaleidoscope. Segall can literally play every genre and play each well. On Ty Segall, he underlines this notion.

On the corrosive opener "Break a Guitar," the Laguna Beach native snarls heartily, "I was made in the rain!" One wonders how a guy from the beach would know how to make music this salty? His know-how is unmatched though, and from the get-go, Segall promises an interesting, chugging, fledgling, and invigorating ride.

On "Warm Hands (Freedom Returned)," Segall and his robust backing band steadily wreck it all in a glorious combustion for the first five minutes of the tune, and then fixate softly, melting down to a gentle boil, and then reemerge together as players of a new song. They hold us in a sublime daze while meandering, mathy guitars pulse, bass ripples in jazzy drops, and side-tapped drums and cymbals pensively quake for the next five, proving that not all experimentation within music is confining. He slings starry surprises from a fuzzily country-tinged top hatter in "Talkin'" to the stand-out soft-psych, sleepy-eyed vocal wonder in "Orange Color Queen."

"Take Care (To Comb Your Hair)" opens like a daydream, and then kicks up clean and raw, suddenly, as Segall's vocals combine with the cooling acoustics on fast feet. It reminds us of Bert Jansch's empathetic ghost in the middle of an important romantic gesture in a Wes Anderson movie. The sentiment of taking care of one's hair floats tongue-in-cheek as we remember Segall's musical grindstone. Just as soon, he revolts against himself, and drums clash, and guitars grind, and sizzle, and squeal, and equate the possibility of Heaven. Sources say "Yay." Perhaps it's a lot to take inbut who said a great musician wouldn't be. (www.ty-segall.com)

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