Before Ty Segall recorded "Girlfriend", a gem from last year's Melted, he channeled sounds we don't normally associate with humans. Through polluted streams of distorted guitar, you could hear him convulse, spitting wordless sounds as a bubblegum drumbeat took hold. It was evil, it was scary, and it sounded like demons were controlling his organs and limbs. "Girlfriend" was a glorious blast of fuzz, here and gone in just over two minutes. It both demonstrated Segall's gift for economy as well as perfected the tone for his work since he left his Epsilons outfit to make music on his own. But Melted as a whole made loud and clear that he was capable of more than just dishing out hard-charging hooks at blazing speeds. He was uncovering an innate understanding for craft as well.
In Goodbye Bread , his first full-length for Drag City, Segall has embraced singer-songwriter craft wholeheartedly. While garage rock O.G.s like the Troggs and the Stooges continue to be an influence, Segall has turned in a relatively calm effort here, choosing to downshift into slower tempos and cleaner sounds, evoking instead the work of John Lennon, Neil Young, and Marc Bolan. Heavyweights. But what makes Goodbye Bread such a success is that we get an even keener sense of what a Ty Segall song sounds like and what that means. Jay Reatard , whose wild-child persona has often been linked to Segall since the former's passing last year, proved that it takes a little more to stand out in this sphere. The same dark energy that set "Girlfriend" in motion can be heard here in varying forms, whether in the enormous chorus of "My Head Explodes" (a head-bangers delight), the wheelie-popping solo that slices through "Comfortable Home (A True Story)", or the sweaty, shivering verses of " You Make The Sun Fry ". Though Goodbye Bread rarely takes a direct route, the thrill becomes much more about the ride from start to finish, than the speed or force of impact.