THE HARD STUFF REISSUES
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L7
Wargasm: The Slash Years (1992-1997) CHERRY RED
Fun, feminism and big, fat riffs from grunge’s most fearless band.
Alternative rock enjoyed a magical year in 1992, but even amid an avalanche of classic albums L7’s Bricks Are Heavy, their third, managed to rise above the grunge noise and make its presence known in grand style. As weighty as the title suggests, clever, melodic and deeply, deeply sarcastic, L7’s best record is the peerless starting point for this beautifully presented reissue of the three albums they made for Slash Records. Pretend We’re Dead was the big hit, an instant Proustian return to 90s rock-club dancefloors that was poppier and less threatening than the rest of the album, but it’s opening track Wargasm – a diamondsolid heavy charge that fights fire with fire, an uncompromising, adrenaline-fuelled feminine attack on masculine aggression – that sets out L7’s stall as fearless rock warriors. Holding grudges has never sounded cooler than on Shitlist, while Mr Integrity, all vintage rock’n’roll drama, is a witty knock-down of mansplaining hipster guardians of the scene. But it’s the bonus tracks that reveal some longforgotten treats, particularly a wry cover of Guns N’ Roses’ Used To Love Her, in which they gleefully expose and take down the extreme misogyny of the original by turning around the gender roles.
What follow-up Hungry For Stink lacked in obvious chart fodder it made up for in glorious filthy noise. Bassist Jennifer Finch and drummer Dee Plackas take their moment to shine, providing a rumbling, groove-driven bottom end to Baggage, on which Donita Sparks threatens to shred her own throat open from the inside. While there’s still a sense of fun in the louche Stuck Here Again, the Suzy Q cool of Fuel My Fire and the full-tilt punk-rock drag race of Shirley, there’s a darkness lurking beneath, demons creeping their way to the front of the band’s consciousness in My Sanity and the paranoid, heavy drone of Talk Box.
The Beauty Process: Triple Platinum starts with a feral scream but shows a lighter side, Bad Things revealing an almost bubblegum pop melody, Off The Wagon offering a ramshackle joyride, while the sunny Moonshine shares the surprising sweetness previously perfected on Pixies’ Gigantic. It was made under difficult circumstances – Finch left the band during the recording – and without a big hit it flopped and they were dropped. A shame, as it fizzes with character and the main players’ irrepressible attitude. As part of this flawless set it’s a vital part of the puzzle.
Still electrifying after all these years, there’s no midweek slump that can’t be shaken with a blast of these magnificent calls to arms.★★★★★★★☆☆
Emma Johnston
Jon Anderson
Olias Of Sunhillow: Remastered And Expanded Edition CHERRY RED
Yes singer’s solo classic foreshadowed later indie icons.
When Yes took a break after 1974’s Relayer tour to record solo albums,
singer Jon Anderson ensconced himself in his garage studio and dreamed up a concept record about aliens travelling towards a new planet after a volcano decimates theirs. So far, so Yes. Nobody, however, thought Anderson would play everything on it himself, turning limited musicianship skills to harp, sitar, flute et al. Or that he’d make such a success of it that Vangelis’s record company would scold their man for guesting on keyboards (he didn’t). Or that Anderson would create an oxygenated, Oldfieldesque blend of light and shade, as if Yes had learned to breathe between relentless peaks.
Forty-five years on, the album sounds both slightly twee and indefatigably fresh, with phases like Solid Space or Moon Ra as cosmically avant-garde as cooler, canonical albums. The epiphany on this hi-res stereo upmix is how frequently one hears a blueprint for heyday 80s 4AD. That label’s original supremo Ivo makes no secret of his love of prog, and magical spells here seem uncannily Cocteau Twins, or Dead Can Dance, or even Le Mystere Des Voix Bulgares. (Once you make the connection, you can’t stop.) Anderson says he’s been working on the sequel since 2004. ★★★★★★★☆☆