 ...One
of the better discoveries was Swell, a group of musicians who
have been an inspiration to me since 1990. It was in a Denver
loft space between the rusting train tracks and streets where
wild dogs roamed that the revolving, convoluted, surreal, swirled
wisdom of David Freel and the sparse, deadbeat, offbeat, psychodelicate,
heart-touched rhythms of Sean Kirkpatrick's drums first touched
my ears like a sonic switchblade: swift and deep and oh so smooth.
I had never heard of Swell, but one day I was at a record store
looking for some music. Looking for nothing in particular, I was
just scanning the racks of cassettes. Back and forth, up and down,
carrying around five or six possibilities and knowing I only had
enough money to buy one--putting three tapes back, picking four
more up--and then I see it. The word Swell filling the spine of
a tape. Nothing else. No numbers, no label, nothing but the word.
That was my first reason to buy that tape rather than any of the
other nine. The cover art was the second reason. It had no words,
just the black and white image of two babies--one pouting and
the other with a maniacal grin--floating through the clouds in
big chairs. Surreal. It was not much to go on, but I bought the
tape. And now? Five years, two CDs, one tape, two 7" singles
and one concert later, Swell remains solidly placed within my
own top ten.
--Marcel Feldmar |
When I heard
Swell's first record, I didn't much care for it. My mistake. Not
something I'll repeat with "...Well?". Everything is
so rich and textured on this disc that I have a hard time seeing
why they don't already have lunchboxes with their smiling faces
on them. There isn't one component out of place in this band.
If you don't buy every last thing these guys record, I don't know
you anymore. And you're stupid.
--G. Ferreira (Snipehunt) |
"Stay
a little longer this time/Stay a little lonely this time,"
sings guitarist David Freel in "Forget About Jesus,"
his delivery dry and yet as poetic as his lyrics. While never
predictably "experimental," Swell are riveting in their
refusal of all ingratiating pop conventions. Filled with mise
en scène sounds (footsteps, ringing phones), 41 resembles
an aural black-and-white movie of San Francisco's hard-luck Tenderloin
district. Bassist Monte Vallier and drummer Sean Kirkpatrick join
Freel on these lean life studies, fashioning an ambient folk music
capable of sparking disturbing epiphanies.
--Paul Evans (Rolling Stone 4/5 stars) |
|
I don't know
what you know about Swell, so let me inform you. David Freel and
Sean Kirkpatrick formed the group way back in 1989 and have been
making great records ever since.
Too Many
Days Without Thinking, their fourth full-length release, is
their absolute best so far. From the thumping bass drum power
of "Throw The Wine," through the rock 'n' rolling
fields of "Fuck Even Flow" and the sweet ballad "Bridgette,
You Love Me," Too Many Days Without Thinking is a breakthrough
on speaking terms with the Smashing Pumpkins' Siamese Dream
and Nirvana's Nevermind. Am I serious? Goddamn right.
-Ryan Schreiber
(Pitchfork - 9.4/10)
|
Yeah, they're
still around, and we should all be thanking the deities of our
choice for that. Swell are still the shit, breaking down any potential
resistance with a gritty, clockwork sound and a casual mastery
of mood that their peers would kill for. And while other bands
have excelled in low-key rocking hypnosis (Luna, Bedhead) or melodic
mid-tempo cyber-indie seduction (Creeper Lagoon), no one, but
no one, sounds quite like Swell. A lot of that distinctiveness
can be traced to David Freel's mesmerizing acoustic strum-cycles,
layered electric screech and ever-so-deadpan whisper. But it goes
beyond that, from the easy yet relentless groove the band generates,
to Freel and main partner/bassist Monte Vallier's well-honed recording
techniques (even with a change of drummers, the drum sound alone
marks this as a Swell album)....
---SnackCake! Online |
|
10 years since
the release of their self titled debut, 6 albums, a move out of
the independent sector and a paring down of their numbers, the
consistent thread of the group Swell is front-man David Freel.
On this occasion David shows just why 'six' will not be his epitaph,
as was the case with 'five', 'four', 'three' and well you get
the picture, before.
An album
full of gloriously rich Electro/Acoustic fuzz, all put to David's
low slung 'who gives a…' lyrics, that rather than strip
you of all hope make you realise that even though you've missed
the #41, the #42 will be along soon. The group have been touted
as the 'precursors of Grandaddy and other post-slacker American
bands', but look at it this way, Edison may have invented the
light bulb, but without Faraday's discovery we'd all be sitting
in the dark. All the way from the land of the 'Golden Gutter',
San Francisco, Swell are fantastically consistent, something
to inspire and will leave you thinking "what next"?
--Nick James (Atomic Duster 8/10)
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