You got the money, we got the soul is not a man at all

Thoughts on Steve Albini

Today has been an interesting day, and it’s only a little before noon so far. I awoke to the sound of my cat vomiting on my 360, which has to be one of my top ten awakenings of my adult life(just above waking up covered in my own blood and below waking up to a gay man with a mohawk spooning me). I needed something to get the gears going after such an event, and as I’ve given up caffeine and sugar in my daily life, I had only one alternative: Shellac of North America. Stronger than the blackest cup of mud and twice as dark and bitter, the minimalist trio owes a lot of this to frontman Steve Albini(I’d say all of it, because Bob Weston(not Bob Weston) is a fucking teddy bear who has written the closest thing to a love song that isn’t about a whore in their entire back catalog, but as anyone who has ever heard Brick Layer Cake can tell you, Todd Trainer is the devil).
So, I went to their latest release, Excellent Italian Greyhound, for a bit of a pick-me-up.

[This is the part in the article where I have to qualify my writing, before I get the chance to delve into the details. I was having a conversation with a friend of mine about the subject of Steve Albini, which caused this whole chain of events(excluding my cat vomiting(I hope)).]
The album production is beautiful, and Albini has a real direction with the record. Granted, this may be because of the other two band members, as both Trainer and Weston are accomplished musicians outside of Shellac, as well as Weston being a noted recording engineer(nowhere near Albini, though), but I had a nagging feeling it was something more.

Serendipity is a great segue, because shuffle threw Veruca Salt’s Blow It Out Your Ass, It’s Veruca Salt at me. I have always liked this EP more than the rest of Veruca Salt’s discography. The aesthetics are more aggressive, but in a refined way(Eight Arms to Hold You was their Black Album, if you’re wondering what I mean). It encapsulates the band’s riot grrlness without sacrificing quality, something that was so rarely seen in the nineties. On a whim, I decided to research the album, and lo and behold, there I found a white horse. Steve recorded the EP for the girls.

At this point, I cannot say that I was surprised, but I was still confused. The production value on The Land, The Bread, and The People sucked, even for Celtic punk. Also at this point, a second horse came upon the horizon, and his name was Death(or at least I like to tell myself this, as it is the only way I can sleep after hearing Call it a Day). My iPod had been kind enough to respin Whatchamacallit, which is the only album by Trainer that I can confirm is actually recorded by Albini. The internet has seemingly blacked out when it comes to the details of Tragedy Tragedy, barely capable of proffering a track listing that doesn’t include album credits. But, as anyone can say of Whatchamacallit, besides the eternal screaming of the damned we all experience after aurally selling our souls to Mr. Play the Drums, is that it is a smooth album. Crystal clear.

Further delving into my, and Albini’s, back catalog of work revealed more and more and more and more albums that just assuaged my worries. But, how can one explain why both Flogging Molly and Ballydowse albums sound like they are recorded in a tin can? And, as Josh pointed out, why does Gub sound so… dynamically challenged? Albini actually played on that album!

Tell you the truth, I don’t have the answers. The man’s bound to have hits and misses, both as a musician and as an engineer. It just befuddles me.