Slint
Spiderland (1991)
It is no surprise that most people (myself included) have never heard of Slint. Operating in the fringes of the edges of the shadows of underground music in the Louisville scene, the band released just two albums, the second of which is today's review. Spiderland was released in 1991, by which time the band had dissolved. When it was released, in the words of their label's founder, "nobody cared" about it. It was only in the years subsequent to its release, when bands like Mogwai, Godspeed You! Black Emperor and Explosions In The Sky entered the musical consciousness that the band's (and the album's) true relevance was revealed.
For it's arguable that Spiderland invented the post-rock sound. This is the prototype post-rock record that set a clear marker for all those who would follow. The number of bands and indie musicians who have subsequently revealed this album to be one of their favourites, or one of their most influential, speaks volumes about its importance to the development of an entire musical genre.
The Album
Many of the hallmarks of post-rock music can be found in Spiderland's sparse, shifting arrangements, from noodling, wandering guitar lines to an atonal, almost disaffected approach to vocals. In my review of Tortoise's Millions Now Living Will Never Die, I remember being struck by the whole-band approach of playing music - no flashy solos or wanky musicianship, just a collective sense of creating a complete musical work. This is also found here on Spiderland generally, though there are some 'solo' sections (they are unobtrusive, however.) Additionally, the drumming of Britt Walford displays many dexterous flourishes crossed with a fair bit of power, and the most obtrusive single instrument here is probably his, although it doesn't take away from that 'whole band' feel.
If I were to be critical of one thing, it's the wandering narrative lyrics and the whisper/scream/non-melodic vocals. While those lyrics do convey the album's central theme of alienation fairly well, they tend to veer towards the 'clumsy poetry' end of the spectrum. As for the vocals, well if I were going to be cruel, I'd say that those who used Spiderland as a template for post-rock decided that vocals were completely unnecessary if they were going to be this grating. There are a fleeting handful of moments where the vocals enhance the music (more on that shortly) but on the whole I found it annoying.
Thankfully the music is more than strong enough to stand on its own. Opening track Breadcrumb Trail sets the scene for the album beautifully. Shifting time signatures, discordant, uncomfortable guitar noodling and chord strumming are accompanied by a low whispered spoken word vocal. Yet it's when the distorted guitars kick in that the song really takes flight - accompanied this time by a throaty, screamed warble, and when the warble goes away we are treated to a Sonic Youth-style post-rock angry guitar noise that's damned powerful. Nosferatu Man continues the post-hardcore FUCK YOU MUSIC theme, all discordant guitar chaos, squealing feedback and manic, powerful drumming.
The next few songs though take a slightly different turn. Don, Aman is the first of three utterly bleak and miserable tunes. Repetitive clean guitar notes and more mumbled vocals create an atmosphere of futility; it's 'what's the fucking point' set to music and it really, really works. The guitars briefly fire up but the song's mood never shifts. Following that is Washer, which was the only track I found a little bit of a slog to get through, although it again conveys a sense of hopeless depression superbly through its moody post-rock soundscape of snail-slow tempo, insistent ride cymbal and disinterested picked guitar noodling. I was ready to write it off as eight minutes of boring until there's a sudden explosion of sound, and the whole band switches into overdrive. Distorted guitars drone away, there's an electric (in atmosphere) noise solo, and Walford decides to hit EVERYTHING on his kit as hard as possible, playing incredibly aggressively yet with terrific timing. For a few brief moments it manages to be the most energising moment on the record. Part 3 of Bleak and Miserable Town is the somewhat pretty For Dinner, with its sad ambient tone, subtle drums and droning, repetitive guitars.
The closing track though reminds you that Slint could do shifting dynamics superbly. Good Morning, Captain is, for the most part, more of the same; post-rock sounds with mumbled wanky vocals. However, there are some awesome elements in those post-rock sounds. Firstly, there's the jarring, discordant chord progressions and melodies played by David Pajo and Brian McMahan on guitar. Secondly, there's the tight, sharp yet extraordinarily fluid drumwork of Britt Walford. Yet the song's denouement is work the price of admission alone, as all of the alienation, disaffectation and bleakness of the album culminates in a sort of post-rock primal scream. The riffs are angry, the drumming explosive and unrestrained, and even those annoying vocals turn into a scream that seems to sum up the themes perfectly. It's sound and fury signifying pain and disconnection from the world and it's amazing.
Thankfully the music is more than strong enough to stand on its own. Opening track Breadcrumb Trail sets the scene for the album beautifully. Shifting time signatures, discordant, uncomfortable guitar noodling and chord strumming are accompanied by a low whispered spoken word vocal. Yet it's when the distorted guitars kick in that the song really takes flight - accompanied this time by a throaty, screamed warble, and when the warble goes away we are treated to a Sonic Youth-style post-rock angry guitar noise that's damned powerful. Nosferatu Man continues the post-hardcore FUCK YOU MUSIC theme, all discordant guitar chaos, squealing feedback and manic, powerful drumming.
The next few songs though take a slightly different turn. Don, Aman is the first of three utterly bleak and miserable tunes. Repetitive clean guitar notes and more mumbled vocals create an atmosphere of futility; it's 'what's the fucking point' set to music and it really, really works. The guitars briefly fire up but the song's mood never shifts. Following that is Washer, which was the only track I found a little bit of a slog to get through, although it again conveys a sense of hopeless depression superbly through its moody post-rock soundscape of snail-slow tempo, insistent ride cymbal and disinterested picked guitar noodling. I was ready to write it off as eight minutes of boring until there's a sudden explosion of sound, and the whole band switches into overdrive. Distorted guitars drone away, there's an electric (in atmosphere) noise solo, and Walford decides to hit EVERYTHING on his kit as hard as possible, playing incredibly aggressively yet with terrific timing. For a few brief moments it manages to be the most energising moment on the record. Part 3 of Bleak and Miserable Town is the somewhat pretty For Dinner, with its sad ambient tone, subtle drums and droning, repetitive guitars.
The closing track though reminds you that Slint could do shifting dynamics superbly. Good Morning, Captain is, for the most part, more of the same; post-rock sounds with mumbled wanky vocals. However, there are some awesome elements in those post-rock sounds. Firstly, there's the jarring, discordant chord progressions and melodies played by David Pajo and Brian McMahan on guitar. Secondly, there's the tight, sharp yet extraordinarily fluid drumwork of Britt Walford. Yet the song's denouement is work the price of admission alone, as all of the alienation, disaffectation and bleakness of the album culminates in a sort of post-rock primal scream. The riffs are angry, the drumming explosive and unrestrained, and even those annoying vocals turn into a scream that seems to sum up the themes perfectly. It's sound and fury signifying pain and disconnection from the world and it's amazing.
The Verdict
Do I think it's some grand, epic masterpiece that stands as one of the greatest albums ever released? Well, no, I don't. It's good (sometimes it's really good) but the non-impressive vocal/lyric combos still mark it as lacking polish, and like all post-rock albums it can be a really tough listen.
But.
In terms of its importance to post-rock, its commitment to an artistic ideal and the sheer influence it has had on so many musicians, Spiderland deserves all the praise it gets. Even the album cover merely confirms the bleak hopelessness of the music within, and the aesthetic has been executed brilliantly.
It speaks volumes that today, 23 years after its release, the band are drawing an audience to witness the album performed live (following a reunion in 2005), and even if the songs don't really lend themselves to a live setting, people are wanting to witness this for themselves and give the album the popular acclaim it deserves.
My rating: ****
Standout Tracks
Good Morning, Captain
Breadcrumb Trail
Nosferatu Man
Coming up, a defining solo release from a member of the Wu-Tang Clan.
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