Sinister psychedelic pop proffered by angsty Wisconsin shrug-rats
6/10
Summing up an album in the first paragraph is perhaps jumping the gun, but it's best to warn you now that you are not about to buy into a new musical future with Technicolor Teeth's rather unfriendly but promising debut-album. It's back to the '90s, back to walls of feedback, the naval gazing strops, the Creation label circa 1984 and early '90s (pre-Oasis effectively), Chapterhouse, M83, Spectrum and the whole darned Sonic Cathedral concept of celebrating yourselves.
And that's not necessarily a bad thing. But after whiling away exactly 50 minutes with this trio's dark arts, you're left wondering what Technicolor Teeth's uncompromising wall of sound might sound like with the lights turned up and the pedals turned off, just for a few minutes. The barrage of garage-grunge begins with Magick Sunlamp, a title that evokes hippies and 18 minutes of sub-Gong noodlings but, mercifully for us, is three and a half minutes of Slaughter Joe/The Tambourines/Mary Chain-style pop caught in a hailstorm of fuzz. Not bad, although things improve dramatically with a contender for radio-play in the shape of Chrystalline, which sounds like a My Bloody Valentine party record (distorted drums, discordant guitars, underwater bass) if Palma Violets had joined in for the chorus.
So, we're surrounded by homage in many guises - MBV, Loop, Ride and the sort of tin-box drums that would have Martin Hannett reaching for his lawyers, if only he'd stayed alive long enough to witness Teenage Pagans in all its glory. By the time album-highlight Station Wagon rocks up, I'm already searching on the net to see if the wonderful stoner-gazers Swervedriver still exist - they do, they're called Technicolor Teeth! Listen to Is It Warm Enough For You? - the buzz, the fuzz and the scuzz rise to the surface for some full-on balls-out rocking, similar to Dinosaur Jr. I like it a lot.
However, the album tails off during the album's home stretch with only the dead scary dronescape At Home In A Coma, the brooding Kiss Lighter and the more minimal Aunt Deborah's Story saving this from becoming a once-only play through kind of album. All in all, a sound debut with more pluses than minuses and a promising template for some ear-splitting live shows.
6/10
And that's not necessarily a bad thing. But after whiling away exactly 50 minutes with this trio's dark arts, you're left wondering what Technicolor Teeth's uncompromising wall of sound might sound like with the lights turned up and the pedals turned off, just for a few minutes. The barrage of garage-grunge begins with Magick Sunlamp, a title that evokes hippies and 18 minutes of sub-Gong noodlings but, mercifully for us, is three and a half minutes of Slaughter Joe/The Tambourines/Mary Chain-style pop caught in a hailstorm of fuzz. Not bad, although things improve dramatically with a contender for radio-play in the shape of Chrystalline, which sounds like a My Bloody Valentine party record (distorted drums, discordant guitars, underwater bass) if Palma Violets had joined in for the chorus.
So, we're surrounded by homage in many guises - MBV, Loop, Ride and the sort of tin-box drums that would have Martin Hannett reaching for his lawyers, if only he'd stayed alive long enough to witness Teenage Pagans in all its glory. By the time album-highlight Station Wagon rocks up, I'm already searching on the net to see if the wonderful stoner-gazers Swervedriver still exist - they do, they're called Technicolor Teeth! Listen to Is It Warm Enough For You? - the buzz, the fuzz and the scuzz rise to the surface for some full-on balls-out rocking, similar to Dinosaur Jr. I like it a lot.
However, the album tails off during the album's home stretch with only the dead scary dronescape At Home In A Coma, the brooding Kiss Lighter and the more minimal Aunt Deborah's Story saving this from becoming a once-only play through kind of album. All in all, a sound debut with more pluses than minuses and a promising template for some ear-splitting live shows.