Friday Full-Length: Fuzz, Fuzz
Posted in Bootleg Theater on August 13th, 2021 by JJ KoczanWas there at any point in history another band called Fuzz? Probably, I don’t know. But from the minute the Los Angeles trio released their self-titled debut in 2013 through In the Red Recordings — RidingEasy, then known as EasyRider, had the tape — there was no doubt as to who the mountain of hype was talking about. Having the already-an-indie-darling Ty Segall on drums/vocals certainly didn’t hurt them in that regard, allowing for an otherwise unlikely audience crossover, but the salivating critics, the hyperbole, the wax poetry of the response to Fuzz‘s Fuzz was enough to turn me right off. I don’t think I even really listened to it until they put out the follow-up in 2015. And even that I didn’t really cover.
No, I don’t think that makes me cool. I think it makes me a dope, no different than if I’d just blindly followed along with the mass of other reviewers, bloggers — there were more of those then — and whoever else in immediate and what I thought of as unthinking worship. It’s not cool to miss out on good records because someone else said nice things about them. It’s dumb, and it’s a habit I’ve worked hard and continue to work hard to break. “Oh that’s too cool for me.” This record rips and it’s nothing if not inviting. Not to veer too far into pop-psychology, but if I couldn’t bring myself to dig into something because it made me feel insecure that other people were there before me and were super into it, that’s my loss on every level.
So it was. Segall, guitarist Charles Mootheart and then-bassist Roland Cosio offered up this eight-song/36-minute collection just as mobile social media word of mouth was taking hold as a true generational shift, and kaboom, were everywhere. And I won’t take away from the mellower unfolding of “Earthen Gate” at the outset or the way-memorable grunge-that-isn’t hook of “What’s in My Head?,” or even “Loose Sutures” since it manages both to stop the song already in progress to vibe out on a drum solo and then bring it back in explosive fashion, but an all-go blaster like “Preacher,” or “Sleigh Ride” earlier on, or even the more shuffling “Raise,” where Mootheart and Segall trade vocals and the whole thing ends in a wailing cacophony of guitar — that’s where it’s at for me.
The structure of the album is such that each side starts and ends with a longer track. That’s four out of eight songs over five minutes long (three of those near six). Sandwiched between those longer pieces is a short song and a still-short-but-slightly-longer song.
Consider side A:
Earthen Gate (5:01)
Sleigh Ride (3:12)
What’s in My Head? (3:55)
HazeMaze (5:51)
And side B:
Loose Sutures (6:13)
Preacher (2:21)
Raise (3:43)
One (6:06)
Both sides follow the same pattern, though it’s more stark on side B with “Preacher” under three minutes and the bookends over six. Make no mistake, Fuzz‘s tracks go where they want anyway. It’s not like everything long has to be slow or psychedelic and everything short has to be fast — here I’ll cite “What’s in My Head?” and its sun-baked repetitions with a willful sense of drag, as well as the furious instrumental scorch they bring to bear on “One” to close out; Vincebus Eruptum reborn — but from the beginning swell of “Earthen Gate,” Fuzz makes each turn count and the band’s presentation remains thoughtful despite keeping an organic-above-everything vibe. For the first 90 seconds? They are a serene strum, languid groove. Then the first push begins and barely stops, especially with “Sleigh Ride” immediately backing it. The key difference, then, between the five-minute “Earthen Gate” and “Sleigh Ride” — at least in terms of how the band is spending their time; I’m not trying to accuse the songs of sounding the same, which despite consistent production they don’t — is that intro. But it’s positioned perfectly to set the tone of a record less predictable than it would otherwise be, and the rawness of what ensues becomes pure Californian acid rock, conveying volume, heft and, when it chooses, melody, in varied dosages like it’s feeding it to the listener from a dropper. Here, try this.
“What’s in My Head?” is an outlier, but a welcome one. Slower, hookier, it swells and recedes in a way that nothing else on Fuzz quite attempts, and it makes the mid-paced “HazeMaze,” which follows, seem fast by comparison. I don’t know the origin of the song, but its position as a standout is, if nothing else, a demonstration of Fuzz doing whatever the hell they wanted from the outset, and one could say the same of Mootheart‘s meandering guitar in the midsection of “HazeMaze” ahead of the purposeful dive into chaos — or what sounds an awful lot like it — at the finish. “Loose Sutures” isn’t shy about a melody either at the start — that is, before the drum solo and the burning-of-barns that ensues after — but “What’s in My Head?” has the clearest verse/chorus trades Fuzz make on their debut. And if you want to look for the next closest example, the place to go is the mirror spot on side B, “Raise,” where the interplay of vocals between Mootheart in the lead and Segall backing is a novelty compared to the rest of the offering — a standout, again; the spot to change things up — but still also a clearly executed, finished song.
And of course they follow that with a six-minute instrumental tear-a-whole-in-the-cosmic-fabric jam to round out. So it goes. Fuzz have had a steady stream of releases across the eight years since their self-titled. As noted, II followed in 2015, but by then they’d done a handful of singles and Live in San Francisco in 2013. They swapped out Cosio with Chad Ubovich, and last Fall issued III (review here) to general aplomb. They’ve got a Levitation Sessions tape out — affiliated of course with Levitation Festival in Austin, Texas; see also Dead Meadow, Ty Segall & Freedom Band, Slift, Windhand, etc. — this year with what looks to have been a killer set. Golden age for live records, we’re in. You could eat for a week on that irony.
I’m still not sure I’m cool enough for Fuzz, to be honest with you, but I’m trying real hard not to give a shit.
As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.
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I’ve been waking up at 4:30 for most of this week. That puts me an hour earlier than I was before. The idea is that I’m trying to transition to a workable 4AM alarm in time for the break between daycamp and school starting up after Labor Day. The Patient Mrs.’ semester starts before The Pecan’s school does, and those first weeks are always a clusterfuck before you really get in a rhythm, so yeah, I’m anticipating a bumpier ride starting in about a week and a half. Getting up early will not help my state of being — since it’s not like I’m trading off by going to sleep at 7PM to account for the difference — but it will help me get writing done, and that will.
Next weekend is Psycho Las Vegas. I posted on Facebook earlier this week that I didn’t know I was invited but then heard from the crew out there that I was, and was I going? Well, I’m not going, sad to say. I thought about it long and hard and talked with The Patient Mrs. who was very diplomatic about not applying pressure either way, and when it came to saying yes or no on the deadline, I had to say no. I’m vaccinated, and so is she, but the shot isn’t approved for three year olds yet, so The Pecan isn’t and likely won’t be until the start of next year. A club show? Maybe. A mostly-indoor festival with however many thousand people kicking around in a hotel/casino setting? I wanted to. I did. I still do.
Next year.
Next year Desertfest London. Next year Freak Valley. Next year Roadburn. Next year Psycho. Next year Høstsabbat. Next year everything.
What do you think next year will look like?
I have no idea.
I’m still undecided on Maryland Doom Fest in October. As heavy fests go, that’s not the same scale as Psycho, obviously — what is? — but yeah. I’d like to go to that. Gotta get back into it at some point if I’m ever going to.
Or maybe I’m not going to. Maybe that’s what life is now. Maybe I’m done with live music?
Nah, I still haven’t seen Blackwater Holylight. Or My Sleeping Karma. Not done yet. Okay.
But the bottom line is I’ll regret missing Psycho Las Vegas this year. I know the Euro bands were having visa issues or whatever and some had to drop off. Whatever. Still a packed bill and they added even more to it. If it was just The Patient Mrs. and I in the house, I’d be there. With the kid, and plague variants looming, yeah.
I need to take at least a day off at some point from doing a review of any sort and get PostWax liner notes done. I think that’s what it’s gonna take. Mammoth Volume and The Otolith need doing. My head aches at the thought.
No Gimme show tonight. Next week. Need to do that playlist too.
At least next week I get to write about Lammping. That’ll be awesome. Record is great.
That’s all I got. Thanks for reading, and please have a great and safe weekend. Watch your head, and for the love of anything, please hydrate. Hotter out there all the time.
FRM.
