The Fresh & Onlys
Grey-Eyed Girls
(Woodsist, 2009)
A brief lesson regarding the genesis of the Fresh & Onlys: In the beginning (for our purposes), Tim Cohen had a really solid, if under-appreciated, band called Black Fiction for a few years that dissolved after suffering an unfortunate loss; Shayde Sartin was a perennial sideman who has played in a diverse array of San Francisco bands, from Papercuts to Kelley Stoltz to Ty Segall. They met about eight years ago in San Francisco and have recently found their footing as the central force behind the Fresh & Onlys. Prolific and hungry to record, the duo has produced a veritable garden of psych-rock creations this year, and show no sign of pause––come hell or high water.
The rough-hewn tracks off their self-titled debut album, released earlier this year on Castle Face Records, provided a blueprint for the Fresh & Onlys sound. Guitar-driven slabs of grimy psych-rock, animated by Cohen’s billowing howl, spring out of a fog of distortion like so many imaginary friends. On their follow-up, Grey-Eyed Girls, the Fresh & Onlys mold their sonic golem from similar clay––red-lined guitars and pulsating bass jostle for position in the dynamic, if sometimes soupy, mix––but the soul behind those alabaster peepers are ghostly melodies.
Throughout the album, Cohen breathes his spooky vox into ribcages of rumbling drums and spacey, almost-too-loud lead guitars. The melodies that rise from the murk of competing rhythms and leads lend clarity to attempts that might otherwise feel too shrouded in the consciously saturated, lo-fi haze. And a haze it may be, but not an inert one. The paisley tapestry of reverbs, undulations, and ululations, however accented or muted, is a dense, dark presence. Apparently, it’s Cohen’s duty not only to help conjure that presence, but to guide it.
Noise-swaddled rockers like “No Second Guessing” and “Invisible Forces” make great use of the indispensable dynamic between the wall of fuzz and Cohen’s singing, which in both cases also happen to fall on the sturdy backbone of Sartin’s steadily ambling bass. The latter dips into post-punk affectations but stops short of going over the edge (and into the post-punk graveyard), while the former recalls a rougher answer to Stephin Merritt’s Distortion hypothesis.
But as much as the best songs on Grey-Eyed Girls are informed by Cohen’s melodies, it doesn’t always work to the band’s advantage to rely on his pipes for guidance. While the playful “What’s His Shadow Still Doing Here” hangs delectably from a sing-song melody, several late-album tracks starve on unripe lyrics that have the additional misfortune of being delivered unconvincingly. For a guy who pulled off a song titled “Be My Hooker”, the anemic “I’m Gonna Be Your Elevator” offers little in the way of enlightenment.
With a full-length due out soon on In the Red, it seems as if Cohen and Sartin are using every opportunity they’ve got to lay out ideas and practice their craft. So far, they’re seeing eye-to-eye, and putting out a lot of solid material, but unless they want their creative hunger to lapse into gluttony, the Fresh & Onlys might have to show a little more restraint. Pluck the wrong fruit from the branch, and it can really spoil the party. But until then, ignorance is bliss. Bon appétit.
Listen: Various Tracks [at myspace.com]
Tags: The Fresh and Onlys, Grey-Eyed Girls, Woodsist
Read more articles like this:
Album review: Ty Segall, Lemons
Album review: Papercuts, You Can Have What You Want
Album review: Kelley Stoltz, Circular Sounds
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The Fresh & Onlys
by: Andres Jauregui
Grey-Eyed Girls
(Woodsist, 2009)
A brief lesson regarding the genesis of the Fresh & Onlys: In the beginning (for our purposes), Tim Cohen had a really solid, if under-appreciated, band called Black Fiction for a few years that dissolved after suffering an unfortunate loss; Shayde Sartin was a perennial sideman who has played in a diverse array of San Francisco bands, from Papercuts to Kelley Stoltz to Ty Segall. They met about eight years ago in San Francisco and have recently found their footing as the central force behind the Fresh & Onlys. Prolific and hungry to record, the duo has produced a veritable garden of psych-rock creations this year, and show no sign of pause––come hell or high water.
The rough-hewn tracks off their self-titled debut album, released earlier this year on Castle Face Records, provided a blueprint for the Fresh & Onlys sound. Guitar-driven slabs of grimy psych-rock, animated by Cohen’s billowing howl, spring out of a fog of distortion like so many imaginary friends. On their follow-up, Grey-Eyed Girls, the Fresh & Onlys mold their sonic golem from similar clay––red-lined guitars and pulsating bass jostle for position in the dynamic, if sometimes soupy, mix––but the soul behind those alabaster peepers are ghostly melodies.
Throughout the album, Cohen breathes his spooky vox into ribcages of rumbling drums and spacey, almost-too-loud lead guitars. The melodies that rise from the murk of competing rhythms and leads lend clarity to attempts that might otherwise feel too shrouded in the consciously saturated, lo-fi haze. And a haze it may be, but not an inert one. The paisley tapestry of reverbs, undulations, and ululations, however accented or muted, is a dense, dark presence. Apparently, it’s Cohen’s duty not only to help conjure that presence, but to guide it.
Noise-swaddled rockers like “No Second Guessing” and “Invisible Forces” make great use of the indispensable dynamic between the wall of fuzz and Cohen’s singing, which in both cases also happen to fall on the sturdy backbone of Sartin’s steadily ambling bass. The latter dips into post-punk affectations but stops short of going over the edge (and into the post-punk graveyard), while the former recalls a rougher answer to Stephin Merritt’s Distortion hypothesis.
But as much as the best songs on Grey-Eyed Girls are informed by Cohen’s melodies, it doesn’t always work to the band’s advantage to rely on his pipes for guidance. While the playful “What’s His Shadow Still Doing Here” hangs delectably from a sing-song melody, several late-album tracks starve on unripe lyrics that have the additional misfortune of being delivered unconvincingly. For a guy who pulled off a song titled “Be My Hooker”, the anemic “I’m Gonna Be Your Elevator” offers little in the way of enlightenment.
With a full-length due out soon on In the Red, it seems as if Cohen and Sartin are using every opportunity they’ve got to lay out ideas and practice their craft. So far, they’re seeing eye-to-eye, and putting out a lot of solid material, but unless they want their creative hunger to lapse into gluttony, the Fresh & Onlys might have to show a little more restraint. Pluck the wrong fruit from the branch, and it can really spoil the party. But until then, ignorance is bliss. Bon appétit.
Listen: Various Tracks [at myspace.com]
Tags: The Fresh and Onlys, Grey-Eyed Girls, Woodsist
Read more articles like this:
Album review: Ty Segall, Lemons
Album review: Papercuts, You Can Have What You Want
Album review: Kelley Stoltz, Circular Sounds
by: Andres Jauregui
published: September 23, 2009
in column: Reviews
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