Hash Redactor hail from Memphis, Tennessee, but you wouldn’t really know it from the bass-heavy post-punk groove that they throw out on their first album. Made up of Alec McIntyre from Ex-Cult and Charlotte Watson and Meredith Lones from NOTS with George Williford on second guitar, the album is structured but sleazy at the same time, and benefits from one of the finest examples of post-punk bass playing it has been my pleasure to hear recently.
The songs seem to be arranged very much around the bass and having played together in Nots for some years, Charlotte and Meredith seem to have attained a fine degree of telepathy, the rhythm section being unshakeable. Around the rhythm section and crawling from dark recesses comes the voice of Alec, sounding like a cross between MES and a rudely awoken bear, his surreal tales of life and how to live it are delivered in a guttural but humorous torrent that is unwieldy, and scans in a curious fashion as if the words are just occurring to him in some stream of consciousness. Unusually, the guitars are mixed quite far down, and they creep and scamper in the background, winding their ways around the basslines like scratchy snakes.
Opener “Good Sense” comes on like a groovy Birthday Party and it is the perfect sound to generate a mosh-pit if they play this stuff live. You could throw yourself around a room to this, but you can also enjoy the subtle melodies that really do lurk beneath the gunky surface. According to the sleeve notes, this was recorded direct to cassette and you can’t help but sense that in the roughness of the production, but it is all part of the charm. In fact, most of the sound is a little rough around the edges, except for the bass, which shines like a beacon (or like a tractor engine) throughout each song. There are some delightful female vocals on “SMX20” and the guitar comes to the fore for a short but sweet blast of distorted and dirty slicing. It isn’t all post-punk ramalama as the shackles are shaken off for the dusty and desert-bound “In The Tank”, which meanders across the hot desert floor, the drums dry as bleached bones and the guitars whining in the background like coyotes hidden in the ravines. The lyrics are printed on the inner sleeve, which is great because they crawl out of Alec’s mouth like something that might taste nice, but he is unsure about. I caught “..he called me a faggot and then he rode away”, which kind of made me laugh; but it also seemed amusing to him, as if the whole episode were one crazy anecdote. I think I keep being reminded of The Fall due to the bass playing, but if they were cowboys or swamp dwellers and had been raised on a diet of Laughing Hyenas and maybe a touch of GVSB. Alec sounds slightly unhinged on “Panic”, as if he was griping into the open air, and his delivery of the lines “…and if you’re looking for the answers hon’, I can promise I can get you some but just enough to get your lips wet” exudes the kind of sexy cool in which Scott McCloud revelled.The whole shebang is a treat from start to finish. The tracks are the perfect length and everything has its place in the mix. Even the rhythmic sprawl of closer “Floral Pattern” (which sounds nothing like its title) has balance through which the guitars peek, spindly and stretched like the sound of gravel falling down a cliff. Drecksound is a great first album and looks gorgeous on mint green vinyl, but it is the combination of the lovely bass-heavy groove and the ramshackle vocal delivery that sets this apart. Once again, UTR shoot and score.
-Mr Olivetti-
