Ty Segall‘s Freedom’s Goblin was a wild, freewheeling record mixing all sorts of influences ranging from angry punk to disco funk. His newest record, First Taste, is tighter, but no less chaotic.
The album opens with a weird hiss on “Taste,” a song about how our choices are often bad ones (“Our salivating makes it all taste worse.”), as Segall and his bandmate, Charles Moothart, lay down double drumming amid heavy synths. The synths get all wiggly on “Whatever” – a song that’s about a D/s relationship on its surface but I suspect is actually about being willing to do anything to salvage a relationship.
Strange percussion that sounds like shaken strings of seashells starts “Ice Plant,” an odd cut about the sun warming up a cold day in California. More cool double drumming opens “The Fall,” a wild track that I’m sure gets the mosh pit jumping whenever Mr. Segall plays it live. Segall has written songs about his dog before, so “I Worship the Dog” is another good entry to this batch of his songs. It has a cool buzz to it that might be from a kazoo patched through a distortion pedal for all I know.
Segall plays a bouzouki (Yes, you read that right.) on “The Arms” – a cool track that blends psychedelia with Eastern sounds. More of that sweet Segall-Moothart double drumming comes back for the quick instrumental “When I Met My Parents (Part 1).”
Segall keeps rocking that bouzouki on “I Sing Them” – a song about how his music helps him through self-expression, thus bringing him freedom. His lyrics of “All I got is what I’d say. So I don’t speak or talk or pray. I sing them. I sing my song so I am free. I sing my song and sound like me.” pretty much sum up how every artist feels about their work. Then, just to baffle you, Segall gives us the mostly instrumental (The sole lyrics are “Close your eyes. Everything is just dreaming.”) synth-wave jam “When I Met My Parents (Part 3).” Where’s Part 2? I don’t know.
“Radio” is another trippy track about the dissolution of the body and the embrace of a new light, although Segall’s lyrics of “I just want to sit and watch the new radio, watching people die all night long on the radio.” make me think it’s a cautionary tale of becoming enslaved to our phones. “Self Esteem” starts funky, devolves into avant-garde jazz madness, and then goes back into percussion-heavy funk. The album ends with the mandolin-drive “Lone Cowboys.” It’s almost like a sprint (towards death?) at the end of a race with its fast beats and lyrics like “…when you reach it, make sure it’s whole. When you feel it, you’re all alone.”
First Taste would be a great name for a debut album, but Ty Segall is well beyond his debut record. He’s prolific, to say the least. This album could be a first taste of other musical experimentation to come from him, and that’s a good thing.
Keep your mind open.
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