One day about four years ago I was shopping in a local music store, looking for a
microphone to begin my 4-track experiments. I saw an old Shure mic in this neat
50's-style that actually appealed to me at that aesthetic low point in my life. I
dropped $85 on it, took it home, and realized that the microphone connector was
totally alien to me.
The mic was so old that it used a now-antiquated cable. I ran around Pittsburgh,
desperate to find something, but none of the music stores knew anything about the
weird connector. I knew that if only I could talk to Steve Albini of
Shellac/Rapeman/Big Black fame, he would be able to assist me. His knowledge of
microphones and recording techniques was surpassed by no one, and his own
microphone collection was rumoured to have surpassed even John "Coug" Mellencamp's.
I called Immanuel "I'm Chunklet's 8th biggest asshole in rock" Theiner and asked
him if he had Mr. Albini's phone number. "Manny" (as we call him) referred me to a
member of Storm and Stress before asking me to house-sit for him in what proved to
be the greatest summer of my life. Of course, I didn't call Storm and Stress since
A) I didn't know them and B) they seemed like a bunch of assholes anyway.
A local music store later found the connector in their flooded basement and
graciously made me an unbalanced cable. The mic sounds OK but it's sort of corny,
and I wish I had something better.
The point of this story is that I had intended to call Steve Albini, completely
out-of-the-blue, and ask him a question about a microphone connector. What did I
expect to say when he came to the phone? "You don't know me, but I'm a pimply kid
in Pittsburgh with a 1950s-style microphone and by the way, I really like
Atomizer?"
This was the closest encounter I ever came to Albini, apart from buying In Utero
at the mall the week it came out, and hanging a promo poster for the Ex Starters
Alternators album next to my bed, with his face grinning at me as I slid into sleep
(approximately 17 months before said poster tore).
Thus, I was incredibly delighted to have the unique chance to review the latest
offering from Shellac, 1000 Hurts, for fakejazz.com. Shellac fans know that this is
the first recorded output from the band since their contribution to the legendary
At Home With the Mackie Mixer compilation The compilation, released in late 1998
on the German label Klutzpahrt, showcased artists who used the Mackie brand of
mixer in the production of their music. The compilation was marred with
controversy even before it was released, but accusations of Payola from Yamaha
notwithstanding, the record was in stores for only 2 days before it was discovered
that Shellac did NOT use any Mackie equipment on the production of their track,
"Torn Hyena Backlash." Copies now fetch around $110 on EBay.
A copy of 1000 Hurts was couriered to my door while I was in the bathtub. My
roommate tried to sign for it, but the courier had instructions to not let go of
the record until it was in my hands. He waited diligently in my foyer while I
toweled off before handing me the package and leaving to go deliver yet another
Merzbow box set.
And what a package it is! 1000 Hurts clearly ranks among the all-time greatest in
record promotion, right up there with the Stones' Sticky Fingers. The review
copies were meticulously hand-assembled by Messrs. Albini, Weston, and Trainer
themselves. I have not seen this much craftsmanship go into a record release since
I was a wee boy.
You've probably already heard about how they included a copy of the CD with the
record, as a big "fuck you" to CD-buyers. The review copies also had the CD with
the LP, and my copy even came with the metal plates used at the pressing plant. I
know Daron Gardner's copy had the mastering laquers instead, so I knew that each copy was
unique and special.
Unfortunately, in Shellac's quest for the ultimate in fidelity, they overlooked the
fact that my turntable was incapable of playing their 980-gram vinyl. While
980-gram vinyl is the audiophile's choice, my turntable lever was not high enough
to even mount the 5" thick record.
Initially, I panicked. How would I be able to review this record that Steve, Bob,
and Todd so passionately cared about? My first thought was to listen to the CD,
but I realized that they wouldn't want that.
And that's where Steve's measure of good will--including the pressing plates in
the package--saved the day. I decided to press my own copy of the record in order
to review it. My Vinyl-RW drive was on the fritz from burning 400 copies of the
Arco Flute Foundation record, so I was forced to improvise.
First, I put my roommates to work. We stripped the vinyl covering on the seats in
my car. Then we tore up some of the tile in my bathroom. Finally, we broke a
bunch of old Lynyrd Skynyrd records that were in our basement. The whole mess was
boiled on the stove until it was a hot, goopy fluid. We weighed it, and at 400
grams, I decided it was good enough to go. I poured the pot of goop onto the
A-side plate, smoothed the top, then pressed the B-side plate down. The vinyl
instantly hardened, and 1000 Hurts was ready to be played.
And what a record it is! The first song... wow, what a leadoff track. I
honestly listened to the first song 30 times before finally going to the next one.
Steve's well-chosen lyrics finally compressed all of the themes of modern life into
just a few words. In between Trainer's thundering drums, Steve was elaborating on
love, loss, commitment, despair, anger, socialism, hunger, competition, and even
the Winter Olympics. Not since John Barlowe have I ever connected with the English
language in such a manner.
And then "Squirrel Song". This is my favorite track, combining
post-industrial urban guitar skronk with grinding, jittery percussion. This song
inspired me to begin playing Freeze-tag with my roommates. We would run around in
the dark while "Squirrel Song" played, the loser being whoever is "it" at the end
of the song. As the song builds to it's conclusion, with Albini's voice shouting
"Firecracker, Cadillacker, MTV," we get so intense that one time I actually
blacked out.
The production, well, if you actually can conceive of a better produced
Shellac record than the last one, this is the record for you. Everything sounds so
good I feel like I am actually in the room with the band, eating Fruit Roll-Ups
with Bob and Todd. Every guitar note dances with flair and style. Every drum
sounds completely true.
There's not much else I can say about this near-perfect record. The only
flaw--and this is so slight--is the use of the Chicago Philharmonic Orchestra on
the last track, "The Watch Song." I mean, come on, guys. The arrangements were
nice, but when I want to hear Albini improvising against a bassoonist, I want them
to be playing AGAINST each other, not WITH each other.
If it weren't for that fact, I would declare 1000 Hurts to be the album
that makes me stop listening to music forever. It is a record that I will cherish
until my dying day. Thank you, Steve, Bob, and Todd.
(Ed: I'm pretty sure John has never heard this album before.)
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