Ty Segall Puts On A New Mr. Face

Much of the buzz surrounding the four-pack EP Mr. Face dropped by Ty Segall is that it doubles as the world's first pair of playable 3-D glasses. (The album artwork can be viewed in 3-D when you press the 7-inch records to your face and peer through them.)

It's almost a shame too, but only as it undercuts one of his more intimate moments as a musician. But then again, that is part of the charm of Segall. He makes music like kids draw pictures — scribbling lines with such wild abandon that they can treat most of their creativity as cheap throwaways because they're all too busy in the business of producing more, never looking back.

Then again, there is something of the statement in giving the discs a dual purpose. It suddenly makes the physical form relevant in an age when most music is relegated to a digital download or (worse) random streaming from a collection arranged by someone else.

So perhaps the physical production does break though in that regard. Segall isn't content to be heard through headphones alone. He wants to be played with purpose in the living room, his music filling up the space around you. Mr. Face does that very well too.

Mr. Face is an intimate take on Ty Segall.

For someone who never stands still — bouncing around various underground bands, creating some, and circling back — Mr. Face is surprising settled, anchored mostly by an acoustic guitar on the front half of the EP before it drifts more toward the rhythmic back half (when he does deliver several doses of always welcome solos). Much of it is subtle by comparison to his standard fare.

Without sacrificing any of his vitality, Segall eases into the EP with the title track and sings about how individual valuations often revolve around money. He doesn't judge it as much as he dismisses it with whispery vocals and pulse quick acoustic rhythm.

The tone of it tells you that he is still taking it slow (in comparison to the frantic pace that defined much of his early career and not slow in comparison to other artists), offering up the EP as holdover until he commits to his next album or project. Fans will most likely think of it as a step back toward the midpoint of his career when mid-tempo indie rock characterized most of his work.

Circles is something else. It carries a bit more of Segall's distort and squelch, which comes across even stronger as part of his live performances. The studio cut is considerably clearer than his live performances, but this clip captures the track nicely.


After Circles, Segall delivers the lyrically sparse and guitar solo heavy Drug Mugger, a garage glam rocker that alludes to medicated trade-offs. The main pained moment is warning people away from wondering where things come from, making the feel of it ominous and oppressive.

Segull ends the EP on The Picture, which is the most personal and meaningful. The Picture is a song about learning to say goodbye. It's sad and freeing at the same time, converting some understanding that saying goodbye can help you see those you miss in a new light.

Although rife with loss and foreboding, Mr. Face ends on a note of resolution. Things can work out in the end, even if that sometimes means finding inner peace. And somehow, it might help you settle in without settling.

Mr. Face By Ty Segall Plants 7.8 On The Liquid Hip Richter Scale.

Overall, Mr. Face showcases Segall returning to and mastering his mid tempo indie rock meanderings in between albums. At the same time, Mr. Face seems to suggest that something great will come from being more resolved with the loss he once endured. Good for him.

Mr. Face can be found on Amazon or downloaded from iTunes. The songs are striking enough to include on a playlist, even if the intent here is to hold it in your hands (and up to your eyes). The first pressing, by the way, was sold out.

Ty Segall Dusts Off Some More Fuzz

Even with numerous reboots, resurrections, side projects, and assists, there is always something readily raw and differently addictive about Ty Segall. This time out isn't any different as he sits back behind the drum set of his newest incarnation, Fuzz.

Bandmates Charles Moonhart (guitar) and Roland Cosio (bass) round out the heavy psychedelic sound. Interestingly enough, Fuzz did try to escape any Segall expectations. Their first single remained largely anonymous for about 30 seconds (minus 60 seconds) before they were outed.

Even if they rightly second guessed releasing the band without Segall's immediate allure, the point was made. Fuzz is a power trio and not the next Ty Segall band. This is something else for him to do when he isn't putting out albums under all sorts of monikers.

Fuzz is all about the low-noted bang, haze, and buzz. 

The music is still scuffed and distorted, but there is something unshakenly unique about heavy-handed rock and roll that has found some common ground between sixties rock and eighties metal. The songs roll alone for several minutes of bass-led sludge before breaking out into exuberant and infectious riff-laden rock.

For his part, Segall has adopted some new vocals while he bangs away at the drum kit. He does it surprisingly well. Or maybe there really isn't any surprise at all. He has freewheeled for most of his career. It was only a matter of time before his sticks and a stoner falsetto would be discovered.

As an introduction, there is this one relaxed yet riveting video put out by Pitchfork that captures the band. The track, Fuzz's Fourth Dream, showcases the Black Sabbath influences while hinting at how much free play finesse fans can expect to catch at upcoming shows. Fuzz rocks without trying.


On the whole of it, the band (much like the song) was inspired by the "Fuzz Face" pedal that lured in Hendrix and Townsend. Segall and company, of course, want to add some campiness to it. Their band bio even claims that they were making music that could "break open the gates of Hades and lurch forward like the rabid hounds of Hell!"

And true to their word, starting with the first track and continuing on to the last, the self-titled album from Fuzz rolls off slabs of doomy fuzzed-out psychedelic rock. While it does not include the previously released double-sided single This Time I Got A Reason and Fuzz's Fourth Dream, it does carry eight new tracks starting with Earthen Gate.

Earthen Gate makes a statement, alternating between a tease and chug before picking up the pace with a vintage heavy metal romp. The drudge is as classic as the track title. Fuzz immediately slips into its more familiar garage punk influences on Sleigh Ride, named so because there is a certain sense of unbalance that comes with racing down a hill. What's In My Head? caresses some grunge and sixties mysticism.

The balance of a brilliant album.

Every track has something that helps set it apart. There is the almost wistful guitar work on HazeMaze, the big fuzzed-out stomping sound of Loose Sutures, and the tittering and sometimes out-of-control Preacher to fill in the middle of the album. And then the band brings it home with more galloping garage rock on Raise, followed by the climatic run of One. In this case, they run at you.

All eight tracks make a perfect set, something as sharp as any earlier outing with Segall on his own. We're glad that his lifelong buddies could join in on the fun and share in some of the writing duties. The addition of them, right out of the gates, gives Fuzz a heftier but more laid back sound than any previous outing.

The Self-Titled Debut By Fuzz Buzzes 8.6 On The Liquid Hip Richter Scale. 

There are going to be many people who will put Fuzz right up against Slaughterhouse. The comparison is kind of fair, only Fuzz is better. Instead of just coming across as short and crazy, Fuzz feels like there is some substance worth pursuing. You don't want to end on eight or even ten tracks.

You can pick the self-titled album by Fuzz from Amazon. You can also download the album from iTunes. The band is currently on tour, playing at a variety of venues across the United States. There is an unofficial Facebook page keeping tabs on the band.

Ty Segall Band Grinds Slaughterhouse

Ty Segall has no intention of slowing down. Since the release of his fifth solo album Goodbye Bread, he has influenced the direction of a number of bands including his newest. It's expectedly unexpected.

The Ty Segall Band obviously includes Segall up front, but the accompaniment of his touring players has come aboard for much longer than the immediate; maybe indefinite.

They aren't playing Segall material exclusively either. They helped write some of the songs to produce the extraordinarily raw garage rock album, Slaughterhouse.

Recorded with Chris Woodhouse at the Hander, Segall — with Mikal Cronin, Charlie Moonheart, and Emily Rose Epstein — turned their amps all the way up and set their fuzz pedals to obliterate. The outcome is a bristling and blistering set of eleven tracks of authoritative psychedelia-laced garage rock.

Slaughterhouse is an album by Ty Segall from another dimension. 

Slaughterhouse is the second full-length Segall has put out this year. The first was a stripped down eight-track collaborative with Tim Presley and his White Fence called Hair. The third will be out later this year for Drag City, unless he gathers up more songs for a solo.

There is some familiarity to be found deep inside Hair and Slaughterhouse, but it will only be obvious for those who enjoy heavy doses of Segall in all his varied forms. Otherwise, Slaughterhouse is fuller, deeper, louder, and easier to embellish on tour. It also proves he has no intention of ever going soft. He just never wants to be bored. He's not bored here. And neither is anybody else.

The first song sets the breadth of Slaughterhouse, with a full minute guitar squall introduction before racing ahead into Death. The rest of it plays like a straightforward rock throwback, leaving plenty of room for instrumental showmanship.

Wave Goodbye is the bluesiest tune on the album with a slower tempo before blanking out the deep rock crunch as a quieter, fuzzy ripper. It's dense, intense, and carries a descending bass line and dual guitar solo toward the end. It will wake up anyone expecting something stripped back.




I Bought My Eyes is one of my favorite tracks on the album, opening up with some 60s folk rock sensibilities. That comes to an end 45 seconds into the song before the band breaks into a slamming pace, slowing down only for the chorus.

A sampling of what to expect around the rest Slaughterhouse. 

The title track is another favorite but for a different reason. It's an underrated and unrestrained punk track that the band blows through in just over 90 seconds. Segall screams off in the distance, giving more room for the instrumental buzz storm up front. It's one of three breathtakingly fast tracks like Muscle Man and Oh Mary that capture the angst of the album as it bounces back and forth between different bouts of garage rock.

Although all of it is loud, there isn't anything to miss on Slaughterhouse. Tell Me What's Inside Your Heart is incredibly well structured and observant surf rock. It's an insistent but sarcastic love song of sorts, with Segall begging and begging to know someone's heart until deciding to tear that heart apart.

The Bag I'm In could have been a clean rocker too. Instead, it feels like the band took the entire composition and dragged it across gravel first. So does Diddy Wah Diddy. It could have been a 4-minute rocker, except they crunched it into just under three minutes.

The idea is ingenious as it goes along with the album's name. They've taken what could have been expected songs and ripped them up in a meat grinder, making it all darker, heavier, and much more fun. And if anything feels too short, the 10-plus minute rock garble Fuzz War will fix it.

Slaughterhouse By The Ty Segall Band Hits 6.8 On The Liquid Hip Richter Scale. 

The album is an amazing contrast to anything Segall has put out as solo work. It moves him out of his comfort zone in a different way. While it can't be called his best songwriting, it is a collection of incredibly inspired and wild selections by the band.

In fact, Slaughterhouse was originally meant to be a six-song EP, but the band had so much fun in the studio that they kept laying down short, crazy, and intense tracks. Unrelated, Fuzz might be the name of another new band by Cronin and Moonheart. Segall will likely sign on to the project too, but this time as a drummer.

Don't feel obligated to purchase the entire album just to get the last track, Fuzz War. I enjoyed the noise, but it is probably not for everyone. The album can be picked a bit, depending on the direction you like. You can find Slaughterhouse on iTunes or find the CD at Barnes & Noble. Slaughterhouse is also on Amazon.

Ty Segall Bakes On Goodbye Bread

It's true that Ty Segall's fifth solo album, Goodbye Bread, is nowhere near as dirty, loud, or brutally brilliant as Melted. But it's not really supposed to be. It defies brilliance in a different way and no one ought to expect less from Segall.

After all, Segall has never stayed in the same place for too long since he began his recording career. He's always made it a point of being "part time" in various underground bands (The Traditional Fools, Epsilons, Party Fowl, Sic Alps, and The Perverts, among them). No one expected his solo career to be any different.

Goodbye Bread is a much mellower and even handed album that might give the impression Segall was holding back. I hear something different. There's a quiet restraint to the album, with a little more attention to the harmonic details. He's also more relaxed, making the entire album sound like the after party attached to Melted.

Goodbye Bread plays like a relaxed event in your neighbor's storage shed.

The tempo is slow. The lyrics are reflective. The mood is mellow. The structure is steady within every song and across the entire album, smoldering at a much slower pace. And all of it fits in nicely as a variance when you consider his full career.

"I felt like people would expect me to get rougher, fuzzier, and do the same thing," says Segall. "That's no fun for me. I always wanted to make a classic sounding record, and that's what I was trying to do."

Remarkably enough, Segall feels better about this album than any previous outing. He wanted to say something as opposed to making a straight-up party album, which also underscores the most noticeable difference on Goodbye Bread — the vocals are turned up against the backdrop of crisp and clean instrumentals.


As good as Goodbye Bread is, the best track on the album is You Make The Sun Fry, which is a beautifully sun-baked love story that spirals back and forth between wanting commitment and wanting to be free from the constraints of it.

You Make The Sun Fry isn't the only single with heady introspective artistry. My Head Explodes trips between imagery and reality and has several amped up moments in between the near testimonial. The contrasts continue with California's collision between introversion and exteriors. A Comfortable Home splits up the emphasis between being together and buying to stay together.

The latter is especially poignant as Segall manages to construct the story in remarkably few words. I Can't Feel It does much the same: Flying without being able to feel it; changing for other people.

It's when you really listen to the lyrics that the entire album becomes something remarkable for Segall, and very possibly the best songwriting of his career (even if we like his rough and tough stuff too). Even if the album plays better intermixed with his other work, there isn't a song on the 10-track Goodbye Bread that you'll want to miss.

Goodbye Bread By Ty Segall Embraces A 9.2 On The Liquid Hip Richter Scale.

It's anyone's guess why Drag City sat Goodbye Bread on the sidelines since January when it was finished, but that hardly matters when you're listening to classically complex songs like I Am With You. Keep an eye out for upcoming concerts. Segall is known for his amazing one-man shows, but readily admits it's often more fun playing with the band. We'll take it either way.

Goodbye Bread by Ty Segall is up on iTunes. You can also pick up the album at Barnes & Noble or find Goodbye Bread on Amazon.