Spectreview: Ty Segall – First Taste

-DARK ORANGE-

“I sing them
I sing my song so I am free
I sing them
I sing my song and sound like me”

Segall’s albums are essentially very subtle variations on his signature style, this sort of psychedelic, propulsive rock sound that’s heavily inspired by classic garage and prog bands. For the most part, his is a comforting presence in the pantheon of ever-evolving, high-profile independent rock artists. Despite the little twists on his formula, you know exactly what you’re getting with a Ty Segall album, you know it’s probably going to be good, and you know he’s probably going to come out with another one in a few months.

First Taste was recorded with nary a guitar in sight, a feat that may not strike you at first considering how accurately he’s able to reproduce the satisfying crunchiness of his guitar parts on electronic instruments. Yet listen close and all you’ll hear is percussion, vocals, and searing identikits of synths. The decision to nix guitars completely feels more like a self-imposed, “what-if?” challenge than an actual stylistic about-face; besides some cool variations in Segall’s common tongue (“Ice Plant” sounds like an excerpt from Badfinger’s full cover album of Björk’s Medulla) it’s pretty much business as usual. There are moments where Segall continues his role as the Treasurer of the Sounds Like John Lennon Club, on demented Plastic-Ono-meets-Strawberry-Fields cut “Whatever” and the Bombay bombast of “I Worship The Dog,” while breathers like birchen folk song “The Arms” and the Zeppelin III stomp “I Sing Them” are well-placed for pacing, a mark of his practiced album-crafting. Sonically it’s a surprisingly light album, full of twists and turns and wholly entertaining from its start to its deliciously wild finish. Lyrically, Segall remains a master of subversion and queasy imagery, casually remarking on classic tropes: rampant consumption via insidious marketing (“Taste”) and the dehumanization brought on by smartphones (“Radio”). Like most of his albums, it’s a winning mix of nightmarish allusion and tender sincerity that hasn’t gotten old yet. First Taste is, somehow, yet another vital part of Segall’s formidable discography that’ll be sure to satiate your craving for satisfying garage-psych (until his next album comes out).

Recommended for getting lost in the patterns on the carpet.