Wax on Wax #4: Early 90’s Gems
The period between about 1987 and 1995 was a really crazy time in music. Seattle took the world by storm and foisted its scene on the world in a big way in what would turn out to be one of the last times a music city would dictate the taste of culture so considerably. The Seattle sound was inescapable, and for every Nirvana, Pearl Jam, or Alice n' Chains, were a hundred other bands who put out great records that were swept under the rug. In some cases, these bands had notoriety at the time, but have maybe since been a little forgotten. Even more interesting were some who used their early 90's bands' as a springboard for mainstream success with their more popular groups later on. Today we take a look at four such albums. Hit the comments below and let me know your thoughts on these four, and what records you think should have been on this list.
Kyuss is pure, animal sludge. The band's guitarist Josh Homme notoriously tuned his Ovation GP to drop C and only played through bass amps to get the thickest, most subterranean tone possible. That should give you a slight idea of what you're in for with Blues for the Red Sun. It's Black Sabbath back from the dead as if they got their start in '89 instead of '69. Kyuss is the progenitor to Queens of the Stone Age, and it should not surprise you that this album is riff city and contains absolute monster, headbanging Hessian guitars on every song. If Blues for the Red Sun is hitting you as it should, don't be surprised if you start breaking things, or driving too fast (hopefully not at the same time). This album puts you right in the dry Palm Desert of California, where it was recorded and the "Stoner Metal" moniker was famously coined for legions of copycat bands to follow. I've never quite gotten why it's called stoner metal. Maybe it was a time and place thing, I'm sure I had to be there, but Blues for the Red Sun does not make me want to smoke weed. If I smoked weed while listening, would it unlock some secret to this album I've yet to uncover? Who knows, I don't think it matters. What I do know is that Blues for the Red Sun brings metal all the way back to its Sabbath roots, and it rules.
I discovered this album through what I would imagine was a common way for people who were given musical hand-me-downs from their older Gen-X family members or friends. My older brothers got me deep into grunge rock, and by the time I was 13, I'd basically exhausted every single Nirvana album about 1000x over. Through my desperation in chasing one more hit of the Cobain dragon, I moved on to the next best member of the band: Dave Grohl. Foo Fighters are fun and are fantastic live, but they were a little too tongue in cheek to properly scratch my Nirvana itch. It wasn't until after searching through every Nirvana related Wikipedia page imaginable that I was shocked (and stoked) to discover Grohl was playing drums in a different band. Queens of the Stone Age entered my brain, and in an instant, usurped the throne as my favorite band. Immediately I dug into everything in their catalog, which in 2003 was only three albums. I was again in the same spot I was in with Nirvana. Cue more desperate wiki searches and voila! Kyuss was now punishing the tiny speakers in my Prius every day on my way to high school.
Blues for the Red Sun blew my mind the first time I heard it. Why after Black Sabbath did so many metal bands go out of their way not to play that dirty, dark, sludgy kind of metal the genre was founded on? Sabbath was always treated more as a launching off point, not an anchor. Maybe it was out of deference to such a great band, maybe there was no point in trying to even imitate Black Sabbath, but metal had kind of lost its way by the 90s. Sure there was Slayer and Metallica, but for every good metal band, you had a thousand hair metal bands that really diluted the landscape. Metal needed a new beginning after Metallica made The Black Album, and Kyuss was that blood-red reset button. Blues for the Red Sun pays homage to the pure roots of the metal genre while remarkably pushing the style forward as no other record had done at that time.
One of my favorite things about Queens of the Stone age is that they more or less change band members after every album, and no album sounds the same as the one before it. Listening to Blues to the Red Sun is like hearing a dry run of Songs for the Deaf, which is high praise. The later record, in my opinion, is one of the best rock records ever made, and as a musician it's a relief to see that 'Rome wasn't built in a day,' so to speak. Both records are similarly bare and feature a no-frills recording style that has every instrument clear and upfront. Well - as clearly as you can present these mudslide riffs. Homme's signature sound was perfected on Songs for the Deaf, and that journey clearly began here.
Blues for the Red Sun did not sell well when it arrived in 1992 despite the band touring in support of Metallica and some of their videos being featured on MTV. I can't help but think that there was just a glut of good music in 1992, which was possibly one of the best years for music in history. Music fans were drowning in great stuff by Seattle bands, not to mention all of the incredible hip hop emerging out of New York and LA. It's not surprising to see that even a landmark record like this could get lost in the shuffle of the early 90s. Blues for the Red Sun was almost immediately canonized into the Heavy Metal Hall of Fame by critics, but was received like a cult album by fans. It only sold 39,000 copies when it was first released. It took a while for these divergent receptions to reconcile, but now it is firmly in its place among the great metal records of all time. This is not a Queens of the Stone Age record, but all the major players are here. I left the Prius running, hop in nerd. LET'S RAWK.
Golden Smog was a club fixture in Minneapolis in the late 80s and early 90s. Early in the band's conception, they would play annual all cover sets of The Eagles or The Rolling Stones. They were the kind of loveable country pub rock band that every city has, except this band of locals comprised members of The Jayhawks, The Replacements, Big Star, Soul Asylum, and Wilco. Their debut album Down By The Old Mainstream has the loose fun vibe of early 90s Petty and other 70s country-rockers who set out for easy pastures in the 90s. Golden Smog is coasting on this album, but don't let that scare you away. This album is easy and fun, just like any night out at the local watering hole should be. Down By The Old Mainstream doesn't try too hard to impress, because it doesn't need to. This album sounds timeless and classic in a way that most music made in the 90s never could.
Golden Smog is a band that served as either a rest stop or a launching pad, depending on which members you ask. The lineup rarely stayed the same and was always in flux, and the odd cover song was never frowned upon. Speaking of, keep an ear out for "Glad & Sorry" from our old friend Ronnie Lane (WOW#4), an excellent cover featured on this album. For some members, Golden Smog surely was just a fun side quest, something to keep their songwriting muscles strong and their guitar chops intact between albums from their main bands. Wilco's Jeff Tweedy shows up on bass, guitar, and vocals, singing lead on "Pecan Pie" and the last song "Radio King." Tweedy surely was focused on his other band during this time, with this album slotting in between Wilco's first two fantastic releases. After the slow sales of A.M. Tweedy may have used this album as a way to refresh before Wilco's next (and more successful) outing, Being There. He may have been licking his wounds a bit, but Tweedy's presence is a welcome and natural fit in this group.
One of the crucial elements of Down By The Old Mainstream is how collaborative it feels, with almost every member of the band getting a chance to sing lead on each song. Tweedy was the new guy in the band on this record and isn't leaned on as heavily as he would be if Golden Smog had gotten their start a few years after this. The collaborative style really gives this set of songs a rock-solid cohesion that is catchy from start to finish. This kind of co-mingling was essential for them to craft the 'not quite last call' anthems that are found throughout this record. You'll hear the band all jump on a track and sing together as often as you'll hear one of them featured, and this is critical to get the regular’s head from up off the bar. Down By The Old Mainstream is also fantastically recorded, and is reminiscent of its more lauded 70s counterparts like Zuma or American Beauty. There is an undeniable reel to reel-ness of the sound here, brought to light by the famous Pachyderm Studios during its first and most successful incarnation. If Pachyderm rings a bell that is because this was the studio where Nirvana recorded their album In Utero with Steve Albini. The Neve 8068 console at Pachyderm is the same console that graces Capitol Studio B in Hollywood and Electric Lady in New York, and it is an instant vibe. That console may as well be an extra member of the band and is worth its weight in gold.
Down By The Old Mainstream is a fun and lighthearted set of songs that would be welcome amongst any folk-rock lover's collection. It has the easy-breezy vibe you wish life could have if everything wasn't so 9-5. It is timeless and sounds completely divorced from the time it was made, to its benefit. If someone had told me this album had been released in 1977 I would have believed them, there is nothing that ties this album to the trends at the time, which was deliberate. Golden Smog was one of the earliest groups to recognize that rock music had moved away from its folk/rock/blues roots and was now being taken over by punk and hardcore. They were a reaction to that reality and became a hub for many talented members of this new alt-country genre they helped spawn. Pour me another and flip the record, because I can't get enough of Down By The Old Mainstream.
Right out of the gate Mezcal Head, the long out of print 2nd full-length LP by English band Swervedriver, hits hard. It's the shoegaze missing link between Oxford haze and Seattle grunge. The initial blast of guitars is like a mix of period era Radiohead meets Stone Temple Pilots, with a little Smashing Pumpkins whipped in. "Last Train To Satansville" could be the long lost ancestor to Julian Casablanca and The Strokes, and it's the definite standout song amongst these tracks. Mezcal Head is drenched in guitars, effects pedals and sonic madness not to mention found sounds of motorcycles, engines, and outdoor that weave in and out with the wild guitar playing of Adam Franklin and Jimmy Hartridge. The band suffered from frequent lineup changes and label issues that stunted their success despite a string of good releases. They're the kind of band that just couldn't catch a break after they had caught their break. The addition of fame, touring, scheduling, egos, personality clashes, and middlemen sunk the initial incarnation of the group. But Mezcal Head stands as their grungy obelisk to this day.
It's hard not to get a sense that Swervedriver was in the right place at the wrong time, multiple times. The UK rivaled the US with their own early 90s rock scene. Swervedriver shared a city with Radiohead and no doubt benefitted from the bright light being shined on Oxford at the time, and they also toured with The Smashing Pumpkins, and Soundgarden. They were right in the middle of these two huge scenes developing while they were at the height of their powers, but were unable to fully capitalize on it. Even later during the Britpop explosion in the UK, post-grunge, internal infighting over which single to release or not release compounded with rights issues over lyrics led to the ultimate demise of the band before they reunited in 2008. This is a story that could be told a hundred times over about countless bands that got a little too close to the sun and burned out. That may be a bit of an unfair characterization, but taking a birds eye view of their career you get the sense that Swervedriver was this close to hitting it really big. It's unfortunate because the music holds up.
It should be noted that this record was mixed by Alan Moulder, and was one of his earliest successes. His contribution can't be understated here, and looking at his discography after this album makes Mezcal Head look like a template he was to follow for decades. His career is littered with huge albums by Nine Inch Nails, Smashing Pumpkins, My Bloody Valentine, Arctic Monkeys, and numerous other hard rock bands. The guy is almost single-handedly responsible for the sound of hard rock radio in the 90s and 00s. His production here gives the band space to be themselves, and yet adds polish to the entire production that is welcome for such grimey arrangements. At times it is hard to know where Moulder's studio effects begin and the guitar pedals of Franklin end, which is by design. At times the songs are completely drowning in huge, bombastic, stir-crazy effects; it's a huge part of the sound of this record and Moulder provides the perfect architecture for it.
Ultimately, Mezcal Head will scratch your early 90s itch with ease. Its as much a shoegaze album as it is grunge, with a dash of early Britpop thrown in for good measure. The band has tons of EPs from around this time that contain some of their best material and their debut album is nothing to scoff at either. Mezcal Head is Pablo Honey if it was good. Radiohead moved on from this sound pretty quickly and ultimately abandoned it altogether, but Swervedriver shows here on Mezcal Head that Radiohead never gave it a solid go-to begin with. This album is full of creativity, big guitars, and is an excellently recorded period piece from the early 90s UK rock scene. The sonic fuzz assault is worth the price of admission alone.
When I first moved to Boston in 2009, I lived alone. I had decided to go against doing the dorm thing (which I'm not sure if I regret or not), and I lived in a studio apartment for my first year. I had an iPod loaded with 120gbs of music, a pair of headphones, and my own two feet for walking, and that's what I did. I would throw on some tunes and walk around the beautiful back streets by myself night after night. Being in Boston, especially in the late fall and winter, is serene. At night, Back Bay slows down enough to really take it in and breathe with the people that live in the neighborhood, and it's a different pulse entirely. I was too young to go to bars, but I would walk by them and imagine getting swept up in some weird adventure if I could sneak by the doorman. Boston has a rich history, and everywhere you're reminded of another bygone era through statues, ancient brownstones, and long forgotten graveyards. I'd find myself listening to Billie Holliday, Julie London, and very often Tom Waits just to help me get swept up in the romance and unsettling aura of the city at night. Often times I'd arrive back at home after midnight, feet hurting, and still feeling pretty empty and anxious about the life decision I'd foisted onto myself. So I'd throw on an old Hitchcock film, maybe Sergio Leone, and finally, fall asleep right before the sun came up. In addition to a lot of the jazz and soundtrack music I'd discovered while at Berklee, I had also just found The Wu-Tang Clan, so let's just say shuffle mode on my iPod could get really interesting really quickly. Each night walk I took through the city had a different flavor depending on what turned up on the iPod that night. Dummy lives somewhere between Ennio Morricone, Bjork, Dr. Dre, and those cold Boston shuffles. It's a sublime amalgam of torch singer jazz, and hip hop, all set to an incredible, cinematically spooky sample backdrop. The music on Dummy makes you feel like a character in Magnolia, or Punch Drunk Love. Its emotional, kind of scary, incredibly hip, and it makes me want to take another one of those walks more than ever.
Portishead had an incredibly creative partnership in creating the music for Dummy. Their idea was to make a hip hop record but to use samples of music they had recorded themselves. According to them, they made music, had it pressed to vinyl, and then intentionally walked on, scratched and scuffed up the discs to give them a bit more of that fuzzy 'record I found in a dumpster' kind of sound. There are plenty of other regular pop music samples on this record as well, most notably being Issac Hayes on the final track, but it's not used in the way you'd think. It's an incredibly downtempo style of hip hop found on this record, and you can hear how this album influenced so much in the years following. The crackles, noise, and intentional degradation of the sounds on this record especially bring to mind the current VHS 'a s t h e t i c' found in contemporary genres like vaporwave, and other lo-fi hip hop beats for chilling and or studying to. Dummy is leaving the TV on all night, falling asleep to infomercial reruns with a bong and a messy life strewn about your cluttered apartment. It's the feeling you get when you may have taken too much when you might just need to sit down until the dizzy wears off. It's slightly dismal, but fun in that self-destructive kind of way that can happen when you fall in love with being sad all the time. Its hip hop for goths.
Lead singer Beth Gibbons is pitch-perfect. Her voice glides above this material like a high wire act set to half speed, and she sets the tone for the music with her beautiful but melancholy lilt. Listening to her voice straight away makes me think of Thom Yorke and how I don't even have to know to know that he must be a massive fan of Portishead. Dummy reminds me more of Radiohead of recent than Radiohead in the 90s, almost as if that band wanted to double back and make sure they didn't miss out on mastering any trends that they forgot about. Beth Gibbons' voice is like the sonic baby of Yorke and Bjork. "Bjyorke," if you will. All that, really to point out how huge of an influence Portishead has had on so much incredible music. This album launched an entire genre/scene with trip-hop. Dummy essentially led the way for a whole group of kids that grew up with The Cure and Public Image Ltd but learned how to play a Roland 808 instead of a Stratocaster. Dummy is the initial thread that has led us to the Ableton-ization of the music the pervades Bandcamp and Youtube today. That Portishead managed to make an album in 1994 that still sounds contemporary today in 2020 is nothing short of magic, or maybe it again just shows how important they are to music as a whole.
I don't know where we are without albums like this one, albums from The Dust Brothers, albums by DJ Shadow, etc. They mashed up all of our culture's best music and re-presented it as something new. They were able to visit the past, return to the present, and show us the future. Dummy is a fantastic jumping-off point for bands like Massive Attack, Bjork, Radiohead, DJ Shadow, and so much other great music that came out before and after it's release. Without Dummy showing that hip hop can be about whatever it wants to be about, do we have Kanye West wearing pink polos and rapping about decidedly not gangster themes ten years later? Maybe not, but I can see it. Every time hip hop expands its wing's it's bound to sweet up new groups of people, and in turn, create totally new subcultures and genres. I defy anyone who listens to this album to not feel creative, so follow that bug in your brain that is telling you to out for a walk with Dummy and be the star of your own melodrama, like I wish I had done in '09.
Check in next week, we’ll be covering Psych Records.
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