By: Ben Johnson
The
current best rock band in America does not exist at the moment, and it’s
driving me up a wall.
You may
have caught a whiff of press about the most recent Ty Segall album, Manipulator, a sprawling double
LP of the most finely-tuned material Segall has ever released. It is okay. He
recorded almost all of the instruments, and while the songs come out fine,
there’s a “show you how I decorated my bedroom” quality to the album as a
result of the lack of creative tension. “This is my favorite way that drums can
sound, this is my idea of what a bass guitar should sound like, oh, and before
I forget, this is how I’m overdubbing my vocals now.” You go “cool, cool,” and
then you go sit somewhere. A couple of Halloweens ago he had a bubbling
cauldron and weird jungle wallpaper going on in there and it was the awesomest
bedroom you’d ever seen, and since then you’ve dropped everything every time he
invites you to come hang out and see what he’s done. Only problem is now you’re
pushing 30 and all of a sudden you gotta make actual decisions about whether or
not to miss your niece’s birthday party just to go check out this guy’s bedroom
for the ninth time in six years. Last time it was “hippy” themed. Now it’s “legitimate
recording industry professional.” How excited are you supposed to be?
I’ve liked
some of his other previous stuff more than this one, but I don’t hold that against
Ty Segall. I respect him as an artist. I know he has to try things. I believe
he will grow and evolve as a creative entity as a result of the experience that Manipulator represents. Blah blah blah. Googy goo.
This has
nothing to do with Ty Segall himself, but to be perfectly honest, Ty Segall:
Unfolding Potential Rock And Roll Genius is turning into one of my least
favorite spectator sports. He was supposed to bring rock and roll back. We were
supposed to be hearing Ty Segall songs on Goddamn Regular-Ass American Radio by
now. Instead, regardless of the impossibility of that absurd expectation, he’s still
doing some Ty Segall permutation of Ty Segall things, just sitting there,
continuing to figure Ty Segall out, just with more time and space and knowledge
behind him this time, and nope, Manipulator is not the one. It will not be on the
radio. It will make one appearance on the Conan show, and people like me will
talk about it for roughly as long as it takes to talk about something like this.
Manipulator is not a The Strokes Is This It? Album that every 24 year old in every bar in America is going to talk about incessantly while trying with every ounce
of effort to aesthetically approximate in an ultimately successful attempt to then go home and fuck each other. Maybe that’s patently undoable now. Maybe I’m too
old and monogamous and sober to know it if/when it happens. Maybe it’s just not
the one. I don’t know and I’m getting close to not caring about any of this
shit, because I’m getting tired of the idea that I better watch Ty Segall to
find out about the “future of rock,” because he’s still our guy.
All of
this is, and has been, tremendously unfair to Ty Segall. I am being unfair to
Ty Segall. I know that. I don’t know why that makes me feel guilty, but it
does. I think just because he seems nice, and because it is totally not his fault that no other
rock and roll, other than whatever barely this side of Kid Rock near rap dabble
Jack White pukes up or the heavyhanded Blues Hammer goofage of Black Keys or the AOR balladeer heel turn of Kings of Leon or etc. etc., is presently being manufactured for mass consumption. And none of this matters. Ty Segall is
taking care of Ty Segall. He seems like he’s doing a good job of it. That’s
good. I hope he keeps doing that, and keeps rocking, and keeps redecorating his
bedroom. I’m down for all of it. Maybe just not the “bedrooms that are going to
change the face of America” cover story hype anymore.
And so in
the meantime here’s Manipulator. A
decent album.
Of course
it’s not just Ty Segall out there. Every single time Ty is put through the
ringer of another round of album-supporting press, there’s also the “you’re
friends with those dudes” question. Always it turns out that, yes, Ty Segall is
friends with those dudes. What dudes? The dudes who put out the following also
decent albums.
I still
haven’t heard the new White Fence album, For
The Recently Found Innocent. I loved, and continue to actively love 2011’s Is Growing Faith. So much so
that I ate a little into the rent money to run go get it when Tim “White Fence”
Presley’s collaboration with Ty Segall, Hair,
came out at roughly the same time as the two Family
Perfume albums. I was rewarded
by another interesting spinoff miniseries in the Ty Segall: Unfolding Potential
Rock And Roll Genius Show with a couple good tunes on it, and two albums of
miasmatic drugginess that sounded like if the crazily layered conclusion
section of The United States Of
America just went on
forever, for two whole albums worth, and never managed to find or reference any
actual songs. I just now saw that he put out another one, Cyclops Reap, last year on Castleface. I didn’t get to that one
either. Shit. Whatever. I’m glad Tim Presley is making music, I’m not always
going to be, and in fact I will no longer be offered any assurances that I ever
again might be, glad to actually listen to it.
So For The Recently Found Innocent is
probably another decent album. I would imagine.
Jon Dwyer
and his Thee Oh Sees came out with an album this year too. It’s calllllled….
(Googles) Drop. Guess what? The cover
is brightly colored. I have not listened to it, nor do I care to. I already own
TEN Thee Oh Sees albums, two singles collections, one EP, one split EP, and two
split singles. The “O” section of my record collection is as big and as heavy as
my “C” section thanks to Dwyer, our International Pied Piper of Limited Edition
Goofball Novelty Vinyl. I love Thee Oh Sees, but I am not buying another Thee
Oh Sees Album ever again, I don’t care what color the damn thing is or how much
it sounds like the first song from The Outsiders CQ.
But if
you’re not familiar with their work, absolutely, go pick up Drop. It’s sure to be a decent album
full of albumy decentness.
And Mikal
Cronin’s most recent album came out last year on Merge. I didn’t hear it. MCII. Missed it. I saw on Twitter that
he and his band recently played some farewell shows. I’m not sure why. He’s
farewelling something, probably. Probably San Francisco, as has tended to be
the case with these people recently. Maybe Cronin is farewelling his own band,
which seems strange. I don’t know or care what the fuck he’s doing, truth be
told, and I’m a Cronin fan from the Charlie and the Moonhearts days. In fact, I
refuse to find out what Cronin is farewelling, and will take the consequences
of appearing insensitive if the first commenter here notifies me that he or a
member of his inner circle has been diagnosed with some tragic disease. It’s
not that I’m trying to be willfully insensitive to these people as human beings,
I’m just getting really fucking tired with the narratives attached to them.
It’s always just around the corner with all these people. Rock music is going
to be “saved” soon, and it’s these guys who are going to do it. That’s been the
story for at least six years now, and I fell for it back then, and I’m tired of
it.
Mikal
Cronin MCII is very likely a decent
album. You may have noticed that I haven't been doing a lot of close listening to any of the most recent albums by these guys. This was a conscious decision. After breathlessly falling for the whole emergence myth for years and years with these people's creative output, I decided to try an experiment. Test a theory. Theory: deciding not to listen to any of these guys' albums will not ruin your life. Theory confirmed. It's a theorem now. The albums are all good and decent, but these dudes put out decent albums like you and I take shits. With
alarming urgency and frequency, often in the back of a Taco Bell/KFC we didn’t
even just eat at.
Of course
what they’ve already done, all of these guys, and what they’re currently still
doing, probably, is still pretty great, and they are of course different as
people and as creative entities than the narratives ascribed to them by
external sources. Such as me right now, even.
But
here’s the thing: these guys are all friends. They’re all great. They’ve all “failed”
to “save” rock music (which is probably fine and not in need of saving) as
individual rock entities for the past six or seven or twenty or thousand years.
These guys all know and like each other. They all live in the same town now. They’re
all rock music friends.
They are
not a band.
I was talking about this with my friend Griffen, and he noted correctly that all these dudes are probably sitting on a couch together right now as we speak, not being a band. They are
as fucking infuriatingly close to being a band as four musicians can be without
being a band. Their lack of existence as a band is killing me. Every interview
and write up and review I read where they’re like “oh yeah, we’re friends” is
like a burbling outbreak of acid reflux in my soul. I hate these fucking people
for not just being in a band already.
Instead of these guys in a band we get four people doing more or less exactly whatever they feel like doing, and nobody has to defend their whims to a roomful of equal, warring creative entities, and nobody has to get in dumb ridiculous arguments over shit like whether or not to use reverb on the tamborine, and the resulting music is fine and good and decent but not worth fighting for. Say what you will about Jack White, and I'm in the "not a genius, in fact actually a dipshit" camp myself, but at least that dude figured out that he needed to keep himself in Meg White's orbit to have any chance at writing a good song. These California Dudes of recent vintage don't seem to have figured out the creative possibilities of compromise, or self-imposed limitations. This is probably what Carl Wilson was inferring when he said, and I agree with this SO MUCH, that these guys need an Eno.
Instead of these guys in a band we get four people doing more or less exactly whatever they feel like doing, and nobody has to defend their whims to a roomful of equal, warring creative entities, and nobody has to get in dumb ridiculous arguments over shit like whether or not to use reverb on the tamborine, and the resulting music is fine and good and decent but not worth fighting for. Say what you will about Jack White, and I'm in the "not a genius, in fact actually a dipshit" camp myself, but at least that dude figured out that he needed to keep himself in Meg White's orbit to have any chance at writing a good song. These California Dudes of recent vintage don't seem to have figured out the creative possibilities of compromise, or self-imposed limitations. This is probably what Carl Wilson was inferring when he said, and I agree with this SO MUCH, that these guys need an Eno.
As it stands now, these guys are NOT EVEN IN A BAND. It’s like
if Paul McCartney came over to John Lenon’s house in 1962 and they collaborated
on a song together, and Lenon was like “let’s be in a band” and McCartney was
like “no thanks, I’m trying to get Wings off the ground. I have a new one
called 'Jet' that I’m really happy with." And all of us in the whole rest of the
world got to hear Band On The
Run but there is no such
thing as Revolver. It’s a
fucking crime of selfishness, is what it is.
Of course
Beatles analogies are a stretch. That's the stretch of all stretches, really.
But a cursory backwards glance in my head of possible supergroups unformed by
people who were friends anyway can't come up with one better than these guys.
Who's better? CAN/Neu!/Cluster/Etc.? Supergroups in their own right
already. StoogeC5? The Stooges, conceptually, do not permit
improvement. The Replacements and Hüsker Dü hated each other.
Early 90's Chicago already had a supergroup called the Jesus Lizard, plus
extra auxiliary turds like Billy Corgan and Nash Kato and Steve
Albini and Liz Phair and whoever else who could not possibly add up to anything
better than Jesus Lizard. 60's Laurel Canyon Los Angeles? No thank you. No way
any of those damn hippies knew how to play drums. Maybe if there was such a
thing as Elephant One instead of six. That's closest. These unbanded California
Kids are like if the also nonexistant Elephant One played more of a
straightforward rock. They are not in a band, but the band they are not in is
the best nonband in the history of rock nonbands.
We're
sitting here talking about the latest Ty Segall album like "hey, how about
it? Is it the one?" and there's a GREAT band out there not being a band
instead of being a band, and not making an album instead of making an album,
and I think it's stupid.
Or else
it’s just people living their lives, and what I really need to be doing is calming down and forgetting about it and listening to Tyvek, actual balls-having Midwesterners who pretty much mop the
floor with all these Californians anyway. Yeah, actually, that’s better. That’s
just exactly great.