Songs reverberate out of relentless feedback, their forms never hold any oppressive distinction and what is truly liberating is that you get to experience a band that has experimented on record.
It's one thing to be heavy, and it's another thing to be hooky, but Slaughterhouse is the rare garage-rock album to do both so well simultaneously
Ty Segall Band bring a sharpened and astonishing lighting-in-a-jar kind of intensity to the proceedings others are hard pressed to capture.
The result is a record that’s weaker in terms of pound-for-pound songwriting than Bread, but highly enjoyable in terms of full-blooded rawness.
The conviction with which these tracks are performed, the saturation of undeniable hooks and the irresistibly raucous playing combine to make Slaughterhouse one of the most visceral and downright enjoyable records to surface so far this year.
It’s a loud, abrasive record that, in the end, feels pretty damn inspiring.
The aptly named album is a 40-minute psychedelic ass-kicking to the ears that feels harder, louder and laced with more guitar-screeching grit than anything we’ve heard from Segall before.
Slaughterhouse, then, is a record that finds Segall at his mercurial best.
Essentially, it's a tremendous excuse for Segall to make a hell of a lot of noise and, in light of his more stripped back and meditative work of recent times, it's a welcome return to the land of squalor indeed
Slaughterhouse is still a hell of a rock album, one that shows us the speedy evolution of Segall as a songwriter and gives us a convincing document of his touring band’s energy.
This is a distortion-drenched, hyped-up, and at times downright heavy version of what Segall's been serving up with alarming prolificacy
|# 22 -||Beats Per Minute|
|# 23 -||Consequence of Sound|
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|# 2 -||MAGNET|
|# 7 -||No Ripcord|
|# 18 -||Pitchfork|
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|# 16 -||Uncut|
|# 15 -||Urban Outfitters|
|# 39 -||Pitchfork Readers|