Slint – Spiderland 10.0

People fawn over this album. I did. When I first put it on, it blew me away. Everything about it felt perfect, right down to the clean guitar that opens up “Breadcrumb Trail”. When I finished the album, I put it on a few more times. Later that evening when I went to sleep I had paranoid, creepy nightmares recognizing the intense discomfort and paranoia that exists on a regular basis in America. 

Such is the power of Spiderland. It is the kind of thing I wish I heard more: beautiful guitar, beautiful drums, beautiful everything really. The lyrics are vulnerable yet they avoid a lot of the cliches of exposing yourself by singing. By speaking it sounds like narration, and the music is the backdrop. Hearing about the rollercoaster ride meshes so well with the perfect instrumentation. 

“Nosferatu Man is one of the more straightforward songs on here. There are absolutely excellent vamps on here, particularly at the midsection. Sometimes when I listen to that harsh, messed-up “My teeth touched her skin” I sort of wish it could last forever.

What comes up next is far more difficult. “Don Aman” is the song that gives credence to the rumor that at some point some of the members may or may not have been institutionalized during its recording. Honestly, I kind of doubt they were, but it is an extremely unsettling. Stripped of percussion, or even guitar distortion, it is simply a series of guitar chords spaced out to give tension rather than melody.

The quiet continues into “Washer”. Singing actually occurs on this song, rather than the uncomfortable speaking that went on beforehand. Percussion is re-introduced, and the song keeps its cool besides one explosion at the very end. “For Dinner” ups the ante by providing a tense moment with no relief by speaking, singing, or even a single explosion.

Finally, the end is in sight. Hearing those jangling notes, you know something is not well. The nervous drums and bass confirm this. In case you still didn’t get it, Brian lays the Ancient Mariner theme on. Samuel Taylor Coleridge probably would be thrilled to see his poem taken to such nightmarish extremes. Everything builds up to that extremely satisfying scream “I MISS YOU!” as sound explodes louder than it had during the entire album’s duration.

Released in 1991 to little to no acclaim whatsoever (excluding Steve Albini’s “ten fucking stars”), it built up its popularity. Not due to any sort of pranks or hijinks by the band. Indeed, the band has been ultra-quiet about those recording sessions it had with Brian Paulson. 

Instead, they did this unusual thing where the music spoke for itself. Occasionally others found it and sung its praises, but the band wasn’t interested in pointless promotion. This is probably one of the most American rock albums I’ve ever loved. Each second oozes a certain kind of America, the America I live in, not romanticized, just shown as realistically and starkly as possible. Pure love.

Slint – Tweez 8.7

“Shit. They’re fucked” the singer/speaker announces to all of us in “Ron”. The aggression is ramped up pretty high for Tweez. At times it sounds like these guys were just pumping out leftover aggression from their Squirrel Bait days. But that aggression appears to be reaching for something else, something a bit more detached.

“Carol” is one of my more beloved songs on here. It hints at the later, multi-part masterpieces they would later perfect. At the 2 minute mark the music gets wonderfully intense. The guitar screeches out a painful wail as the speaker tells you “when the time comes/you got to let go”. 

They were surprisingly young to put out something this experimental. None of them had even graduated from college yet when they got around to making a song that involves hearing a guy swallow a glass of water. A jam starts up, sounding almost like a kind of normal band having a grand old time. Being Slint, this could only last a little over a minute before they wanted to “get sensitive” and talk about Christmas Trees inside their heads.

Lyrically, it doesn’t feel as solid as say Spiderland’s clear narratives. But the weirdness can sometimes lead to a tender sweetness, like it does on “Darlene” probably one of my favorite songs about relationships of all time. That bass comes in and sounds wonderful. Beautiful guitar comes in and the speaker is delightfully nonchalant. Also, they seem to save the darkness for us until the very end of the song, as he feels sad that he lost two friends to each other. 

Reaching the end of the album, it gets into darker, even more distorted terrain with “Warren” and “Rhoda”.

I can’t believe how under-noticed this went at the time it came out. Recorded with Steve Albini, who even admits “It sounded alright”. Nobody paid attention to it, so few that it got recorded in 87 and released in 89 by Jennifer Hartman Records, which sounds like somebody working out of their garage. Later on it would be released on Touch and Go, which is where they would find a home for their masterpiece, Spiderland. 

PS. If you’re wondering where the album’s title comes from, it was from Britt Walford’s (drummer) habit of collecting tweezers.