"Pudding Time" by Primus

Matt Schild — Mon, 18 Aug 2008 05:08:12 +0000

Primus was my first introduction to the alternative-era bands in high school. Sure, I'd grown up listening to a swath of new wave and punk albums (cassettes, at that point), but they were all bands whose roots stretched far, far back into my childhood. Many were bands that, even in the early '90s, were over the hill, long broken up or established big-timers: The Cure, The Dead Milkmen, Depeche Mode, The Clash, Sonic Youth.

Primus was different. Instead of being one of those acts of whom I heard secondhand, mostly from the big kids letting me borrow and dub their favorite cassettes, they existed in the here and now. "Primus Sucks" stickers popped up here and there in the school parking lot. The skaters and whatever vestigial wavers who were still around were talking about this crazy band with wild bass lines and lyrics that were like the Milkmen's humor filled to the gills with psychedelics. Needless to say, I had to check it out. Thanks to one of those 12-CDs-for-a-penny offers that used to turn up everywhere teenagers might find themselves, I did.

I got my hands on Sailing the Seas of Cheese, and suddenly realized that there was a world of new bands out there. Bands I barely knew about. Bands I didn't even know of yet. It was a minor step in my introduction to independent music -- the bane was on a major even in those days, after all -- but one that, 16 years later still stands out.

I got Frizzle Fry shortly thereafter. Although I rarely pull out the Primus albums -- I can't really stand anything after Pork Soda to be honest with you -- old gems like "Pudding Time" still make my day when they pop up in shuffle mode. "Pudding Time" is, for all intents and purposes, a standard early-years Primus song. Less Claypool's finger-popped bass is everywhere in the mix, though guitars still bring hard rock and punk sounds to the table; Claypool's vocals are odd but relatively straightforward, a skewed take on spoiled rich kids that's really just an excuse to let the band jam out.

I came across Primus about the same time as I heard Nirvana for the first time. I incorrectly assumed Nirvana was an old-school punk act. To me, Primus' first couple albums are as much a reminder of the days when the budding alternative boom was still on the horizon, a time when new bands were exciting, weird and, for a few short months, still far from the clutches of the mainstream.

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I never thought I'd be nostalgic for the early '90s, nor refer to anything as Primus' "classic period," but here we are.

Fur and Gold

Erik Gonzalez — Thu, 13 Dec 2007 07:18:37 +0000

8.4

http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B000RHRFUO/wwwthreeimagi-20/

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Bat for Lashes’ Natasha Khan follows the same path as predecessors like Patti Smith, Polly Jean Harvey, and Chan Marshall, existing as a whirling storm of creative energies. The sounds that are constructed by Khan on Bat for Lashes’ debut, Fur and Gold, are culled from such disparate sources as a well-tuned harpsichord to rain falling outside a window. These sonic collages are some of the most refreshing compositions that you will hear this year, leaving you with the distinct impression that Natasha Khan is one of the most promising new artists in music today.

Bat for Lashes has a lot of high profile fans like Jarvis Cocker, Devendra Banhart, and Thom Yorke. This admiration goes both ways as right off the bat on “Horse & I” you can hear the influence of Radiohead. “Horse & I” sounds like fusion of Bjork and Radiohead, with a marching beat and hammered harpsichord combined with intricately interwoven vocals. The harpsichord is a recurrent instrument throughout Fur and Gold. On “What is a Girl To Do,” Khan takes on more of a 60’s pop throwback sound, if 60’s pop was dark and sinister. Instead, her hushed vocals combined with the lush production recalls Black Box Recorder at its height. The highlight of the album might be “Prescilla,” a piece that taps into PJ Harvey (circa To Bring You My Love) but builds on that platform by adding in a rhythm section of handclaps and footstomps that develop an organic feel to the work. The most remarkable thing about the track is that it can, at the same time, feel entirely new and entirely familiar.

Khan obviously has a predilection for darker tones, such as “Trophy” where the sinister mood is amplified by guest vocalist Josh Pearson (who sounds a lot like Moby), creating a fusion of Bjork’s esoteric atmospheres and PJ Harvey’s ominous attitude. “Say Eyes” is even more stripped down, reducing the formula to merely Khan’s vocals and a deeply resonant piano; you can practically feel her lips intoning each word into the microphone. “Seal Jubilee” is another somber dirge that echoes around like a fading memory, constructed on a starkly beautiful foundation of strings, guitar, and piano. She can also take on the persona of a true chanteuse. “I Saw a Light” has a very Rufus Wainwright feel, taking the dominant piano and mixing it slowly into a building thunder of guitar and drums, with Khan howling over the din until it collapses into a simple ballad. The album closes with the passionate “I’m on Fire,” a lament of lost love (and a Springsteen cover!) that leaves you wishing that she wasn’t done just yet as the haunting piano and harpsichord fades into Khan’s plaintive vocals.

Fur and Gold is one of the most impressive debuts I’ve heard this year. Bat for Lashes not only attempts to construct an album of melancholy tones, but also makes them seem like only the tip of the musical iceberg for Khan. The entire album comes across as a long, somewhat frightening dream that wraps the listeners in its dark cloak. Like those dreams, what Fur and Gold offers is a journey into holistic modern rock that can derive its inspiration from almost anywhere.

Fur and Gold is one of the most impressive debuts I’ve heard this year.

Three Imaginary Girls - Caroline

"Pudding Time" by Primus

Fur and Gold