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You were expecting change? Something a little different?
Ha! They probably haven’t even hoovered under the sofa
in chateau Deal since sometime back in ’93, asking anything
more would no doubt seem a little much like pressure
to them. So as ‘Little Fury’ croaks awake with a wheeze,
building-block drums and that irresistible yeah-maybe-we’re-a-little-fucked-but-you-listen-good-n-proper-now-y’hear
vocal thing going on, you are whisked back to that cramped
room – sunlight creeping through the blinds, stopped
clock on the wall, early 90s issue of Rolling Stone
open on the floor exposing an L7 spread, vinyl copy
of ‘Doolittle’ lying face up with fingerprints tarnishing
the grooves and beautiful wasters slumped in all directions.
Some things change, some things stay the same, the world
keeps turning.
So 9 years is a long time then. Even longer in an existence
where an album sounds like it was written and recorded
in one especially riotous slumber. Justine Frischman
would be tapping her wrist-watch by now. And thing is,
they probably could have come back anytime during any
one of those 9 years since ‘93’s ‘Last Splash’ and made
a decent, erm, splash. But this all just reeks of a
“no, fuck you! We’ll come back when you’re ready, motherfucker”
attitude. So now, with the western world awash with
filthy garage rock all over again, the Deal sisters
lurch back into view with back-up and reassume the position
like it is all just made for them. Giving the likes
of the White Stripes all the dues we can – holding the
torch up victoriously over the last year or so – The
Breeders just seem to raise an eyebrow, sit back and
wait for people to pick up on their scent again. Which
they will, in swarms, eventually.
Take ‘Put On A Side’ which sounds sedated, like it just
fell right out, was caught before it hit the ground
and wrapped together with the slightest thread. First
time through and it’s hanging on for its life, gasping
anxiously for air, while after repeated listens it’s
the one cushioning you. While there’s no ‘Cannonball’
as such on here, the quality benchmark is probably more
assured for ‘Title TK’, with a deeper, more satisfying,
understanding display of dirty melody and song. ‘London
Song’ is a pure sleazy showpiece and would no doubt
end up on indie Broadway were there one, ‘Full On Idle’
is the equally deviant cousin of The Pixies’ ‘Mr Grieves’
and ‘The She’ is just the most glorious psychedelic
Doors Vs. Patti Smith mash up, with bass to die for.
But if you’re looking for a standout or heir to Her
Royal Majesty ‘Cannonball’ then you near enough have
it in ‘Huffer’. A head down, balls out, on-fire gatecrasher
of a tune falling apart at the seams with passion. Some
things need to stay the same. Where on earth would we
be without this particular constant?
Relevant sites:
The
Breeders
Breeders
- Myspace
4AD
- The Breeders
James Berry for Crud Magazine© 2002
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