April 16, 1998
Guitarist David Grubbs has made a name for himself in the intriguing, overly intellectual, intricately precise post-rock scene with Gastr Del Sol. But before immersing himself in the chilly water of that genre's calculated minimalism, he got all the fiery sound and fury out of his system with Squirrel Bait.
Their thin, trebly metallic grind immediately recalls Husker Du, but Squirrel Bait is closer to thrash than Bob Mould would have dared go. And "thrash" is really the perfect word, but for the implication that the band's sound is uncontrolled and sloppy. It isn't. Skag Heaven is tightly wound as a tourniquet, with machine gun-burst drum fills and furious guitar work. Don't look for the carefully metered, radically shifting dynamics of Gastr Del Sol here: Squirrel Bait have but one dynamic - fast.
What sets these Louisville, Kentucky-bred boys apart from other forgettable thrash bands is their unerring sense of melody, strong songwriting and knowledge of roots. What other thrash band could take Phil Ochs' "Tape From California" and inject it with such dark foreboding? It's a brilliantly executed, inspired cover, thanks mostly to the intense vocal delivery of Peter Searcy.
Searcy's vocals stand out throughout the album, giving the riff storm a primal human presence. Searcy sounds eerily like Paul Westerburg; in fact, much of Skag Heaven closely recalls The Replacements, except Squirrel Bait always play at sound barrier-breaking speed. It's more than artless imitation - in the magnificent "Kid Dynamite", Searcy delivers lines like "I don't need no pig stomping on my buzz" with more than just unfocused rage, but genuine passion. No easy feat, making adolescent wrath sound profound. When done poorly it's embarrassing to listen to, but when a band can actually tap into that rich vein of emotion, it makes for some great rock and roll.
I almost want to call Skag Heaven thrash-pop, but don't want to cheapen their fierce sound. Just know that these boys know their way around a melody, and pack their underbelly anthems with genuinely barbed hooks that sink in - and stay there.
- Jared O'Connor
tightly wound as a
tourniquet