Ty Segall : retour à la case départ ?

(© Lazlo Badet)

“Break A Guitar” est une introduction tout ce qu’il y a de plus classique chez Ty. Deux guitares viennent se donner la main et sa voix contraste avec une production assez pop qui fait mouche. OK. “Freedom“, plus proche du rythme de Sleeper, tente de s’imposer en enchainant différentes phases, mais on passe un peu à côté. 

Vient alors “Warm Hands (Freedom Returned)“, à mon sens le meilleur titre de cet LP. Noir, très noir, il nous donne pour le coup à entendre un Ty Segall tout à fait nouveau et qui ne rappelle pas non plus d’autres artistes/mouvements – a contrario de quelques-uns des titres qui arrivent. Etrangement – Ty Segall est pourtant très bon dans l’exercice – je pense qu’il y avait mieux à faire sur le retour en force de l’intru’ à la 9ème minute, mais c’est surtout les premières minutes qui font de “Warm Hands (Freedom Returned)” une pièce à chérir dans la discographie pléthorique de Ty Segall. La production est également brillante, non content d’avoir dédoublé les guitares, Ty y dédouble également sa voix, on tombe alors dans une schizophrénie qui rappelle la délicate frontière avec le monde des névropathes. Et puis, les nombreux changements de rythme ont ici un écho particulier qui tend à renforcer l’impression d’écouter un désaxé de la guitare. 

“Talkin’” enchaine dans un style très Neil Young, rien d’étonnant à cela lorsque l’on sait que Ty Segall a toujours eu un petit penchant pour le natif de Toronto. C’est plutôt bon, mais très franchement, on avait déjà bien assez de Jack White dans le même registre. L’album Sleeper de folk brute à la One Foot in the Grave est trois crans au-dessus.

“The Only One” attaque la face B avec toujours cette même volonté classic rock qu’il a sans aucun doute puisée quelque part dans sa collection de vinyles. L’album fait un peu office de patchwork à ce stade mais l’on se rend compte plus tard que l’esprit seventies est le liant de tous ces morceaux. Les guitares surgissent de toute part, c’est volontairement bien trop grandiloquent, mais qu’est-ce que ça doit bien fonctionner en live ! Et puis, il faudrait être sourd pour ne pas aimer la dernière phase.

“Thank You Mr. K” a quelque chose de très automatique – et d’habité -, un peu comme s’il avait couvert T-Rex ou les membres de CAN de 3 kilos d’une drogue tropicale. On aurait également pu penser à King Gizzard mais Ty Segall s’en détache très rapidement, et puis, rendons à César ce qui est à César, si l’un des deux groupes à influencé l’autre, Ty Segall est assurément le maitre avec son bâton, premier pèlerin dans la nébuleuse. L’interlude de “Thank You Mr. K” ne veut rien dire, mais elle est la preuve que Ty Segall prend toujours autant de joie à composer ses albums, et ça, c’est déjà beaucoup. 

Article sur le dernier King Gizzard (2016)

“Orange Color Queen” reprend les élans acoustiques de “Talkin’“, seulement, n’aurait-il pas fallu coupler ces deux morceaux, histoire de nous laisser le temps de rentrer dans cet univers de pop folk qui sa démarque largement du reste de l’album ? On sent bien – une fois de plus – que Ty Segall a voulu rendre hommage aux artistes seventies, probablement pour apporter sa contribution à l’éternelle confrontation punk-garage / classic rock, mais cela n’aurait pas empêché une tracklist pensée différemment. 

Avec “Papers“, Ty Segall boucle la boucle, non seulement parce qu’il confine une pop chuchotée et quelques solos dans une poignée de minutes, mais aussi parce qu’il rappelle certaines phases de son Ty Segall (2008). “Take Care (To Comb Your Hair)” nous jette un dernier accord en pleine face, on pourrait longtemps délibérer sur cette signification – est-ce le premier riff du prochain album ? – mais je vous épargne cette peine. 

Au final, il ne fait aucun doute que Ty Segall (2017) soit un très bon album. Tout est là, pas forcément dans l’ordre que l’on attendait, mais Ty Segall coche les cases du bon LP : mélodie, production, ambiance, phases instru’, petites surprises bien placées, justesse vocale et textes entêtants. Pour sûr, mais notons que les albums de Ty Segall nous ont toujours habitués à cocher quelques cases supplémentaires : oh, de l’acoustique nerveux, oh, du psyché, oh, de l’expérimental… ce que Ty Segall (2017) ne fait pas. Il y a certes quelques balades folk qui ne sont pas vraiment familières dans son univers, mais elles sont trop fidèles aux groupes des seventies pour que l’on puisse les compter comme nouvelles. Cet album-là ne nous transcende pas, on en prend la mesure dès la première écoute, il ne nous questionne pas non plus, on le comprend sans entrave. Il peut en cela faire penser à certains de ses tous premiers albums qui exploraient le genre garage dans la lignée d’un style – mais qui avait au moins pour mérite de nous présenter l’artiste.

Article sur son album Ty Rex (2015)

Alors, je voudrais ici conclure par le passage – pas trop fun – du critique qui veut à tout prix se faire philosophe, je m’explique. Dans son Corps et âme, Frank Conroy décrit la formation musicale d’un jeune pianiste. Ce dernier enchaine les professeurs et les heures de pratique jusqu’à la rencontre de Fredericks qui va le faire accéder à quelque chose de supplémentaire : la légèreté. Le jeune Claude Rawlings a alors une révélation qui ne le quittera jamais. Si je vous raconte cela, c’est parce que j’ai toujours cru – et je continuerai de le croire – que Ty Segall est aussi cet artiste que l’on rencontre et qui nous donne ce supplément d’âme. Chacun de ses derniers albums, a leur façon, sont autant de révélations possibles qui accompagneront la vie artistique de très nombreux apprentis. C’est pompeux, mais je crois terriblement vrai. Je doute aujourd’hui que Ty Segall (2017) puisse produire le même effet, bien que j’espère me tromper. Mais si tel n’était effectivement pas le cas, je renverrais les médisants aux autres LPs de Ty Segall et leur demanderais de me citer un artiste de la scène garage actuelle qui soit aussi accompli et influent. Ils chercheront… et ne trouveront pas. Je sourirais alors.

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Ty Segall, back to the start? Almost 10 years ago –in 2008- Ty Segall released his first album on Castle Face Records. Called Ty Segall, we were then discovering an artist who was about to revive the garage style, following the steps of Jay Reatard. Today, Friday 27th January, he is finally releasing his 9th solo album, also called Ty Segall, and that may not be a coincidence.

I have to say – before I get more into detail about the content of this album – that I’m a bit embarrassed. As a matter of fact, I am under the impression that Ty Segall has just provided some arguments to those who pretend he is too prolific, meaning, in a hurry to release his albums to the detriment of the creativity, which, we always presume, comes from the time passing by – and what a mistake! Ty Segall has actually never suffered from his impatience and I am deeply convinced that those who say they like (garage) rock but don’t worship appreciate Ty Segall do it because of the trend, yeah, it’s cool to go against the flow (and no need to write me on Facebook to tell “But I swear, I really don’t like him”). His Emotional Mugger, released last year, is particularly brilliant in the way it precisely pulled the rug out from under those insincere chatty people who got caught unprepared by such an experimental –and well done- album that it’s hard, if not impossible not to truly appreciate his three steps ahead on the rest of the scene.

 

But is Ty Segall (2017) in line with the rest of his discography? Let’s say it right away, Ty Segall (2017) is a very good album, but it won’t catch anybody off-guard. Halfway between his garage from the origins, his folk wanderings and his psychedelic stoner trials with Fuzz, he is, admittedly, creative but stays in a well-known structure. To rephrase, Ty Segall (2017) would be the best album of 99% of the bands from the garage scene, but it doesn’t reach – to me – the hall of fame of Ty’s LPs.

Now that I’ve said it – we have to use our dirty French mind from time to time – what does this album hold? Can we really spit on a Ty Segall album with complete impunity? Certainly not, I say it in every review but I am convinced that Ty Segall is the greatest artist of the decade, and don’t count on him to deliver an album that doesn’t demonstrate that, in a way or another.

“Break a Guitar” is a classic introduction for Ty Segall. Two guitars hold hands and a voice gives a contrast to this rather pop and efficient production. OK. “Freedom”, closer to the Sleeper rhythm, tries to impose itself with a series of different phases, but we kind of miss the point of this one.

Then comes “Warm Hands (Freedom Returned)”, in my opinion, the best track on this album. Dark, very dark, it gives us the opportunity to hear, for once, a very new Ty Segall who doesn’t recall other artists/movements – unlike some of the upcoming songs – yet Ty Segall is very good in this exercise – I think we could have expected something better from the comeback of the instruments at the 9th minute, but the first minutes of the song make this “Warm Hands (Freedom Returned)” one of the very best pieces of Ty Segall’s plethoric discography. The production is also brilliant, not only does he double-track the guitars, but he does the same with his voice, making us fall into schizophrenia, reminding the delicate border with the neurotic’s world. And then, the numerous rhythm changes give a special echo that reinforce the impression of listening to an unbalanced guitar.

“Talkin” follows with a very Neil Young style, nothing surprising when we know that Ty Segall always had a thing for the Toronto musician. That’s rather good, but let’s be honest, we already had enough of Jack White in this category. The album Sleeper, with a raw folk reminding of One Foot in the Grave, was three steps above.

“The Only One” gets the B-Side started with this same classic rock ambition that he has, without a doubt, drawn in his record collection. The album is a bit of a patchwork at this stage, but we realize later that the seventies spirit is the main link between the songs. The guitars emerge from everywhere, it’s willingly way too grandiloquent, but boy, how great it must be live! And you’d have to be deaf not to like the last part.

“Thank You Mr. K” has this very automatic aspect – and inwardly driven-, just as if he had covered T-Rex or the members of CAN with 3 kilograms of a tropical drug. We could also have thought of King Gizzard but Ty Segall draws away from them quickly, and, render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, if one of them has influenced the other, Ty Segall is assuredly the teacher with his stick, first pilgrim in the myriad of garage bands. The interlude of “Thank You Mr. K” means nothing, but it’s the proof that Ty Segall always gets so much joy composing his albums, and that means a lot.

“Orange Color Queen” takes the acoustic impetus of “Talkin”, but wouldn’t have it been better to merge these two tracks, to let us enter this pop folk universe that frankly distances itself from the rest of the album? We feel –once again- that Ty Segall wanted to pay tribute to the seventies artists, probably to make his contribution to the perpetual punk-garage / classic rock confrontation, but that wouldn’t have prevented a differently crafted tracklist.

With “Papers”, Ty Segall completes the circle, not only because he confines a whispered pop and a few solos in a handful of minutes, but also because he reminds of some parts of his Ty Segall (2008). “Take Care (To Comb Your Hair)” throws us a final chord in the middle of the face, we could argue about the meaning of this – is this the first riff of the next album? – but I won’t bore you with it.

All in all, there is no doubt that Ty Segall (2017) is a very good album. Everything is here, not necessarily in the order we were expecting, but Ty Segall ticks all the boxes of the good LP: melodies, production, atmosphere, instrumental phases, well-located little surprises, vocal relevance and heady lyrics. That’s for sure, but let’s note that Ty Segall’s albums have always accustomed us to tick some more boxes: oh, nervous acoustic; oh, psychedelic; oh, experimental… which Ty Segall (2017) doesn’t reproduce. I’ll concede there are some folk ballads that are not especially familiar to his universe, but they are too reminiscent of the seventies bands to make us count them as new. This album doesn’t transcend us, we can notice it at the first listen, it doesn’t question us, and we understand it without any difficulty. In this way, it can recall some of his very first albums, which explored the garage genre in the continuity of a style – but at least they had the merit of introducing us the artist.

So I would like to conclude with the –not so fun- section in which the music critic wants to philosophize at any cost: let me explain. In his Body and Soul, Frank Conroy describes the musical formation of a young pianist. The different professors and the hours of practice come one after another, until he meets Fredericks, who will make him reach something more: lightness. The young Claude Rawlings then has a revelation that will never leave him. If I’m telling you this, it’s because I have always believed – and I’ll keep believing – that Ty Segall is also this artist we meet and gives us this extra touch of soul. Each of his last albums, in different ways, is a revelation that will guide the artistic life of many young apprentices. It’s a bit pompous, but I believe terribly true. Today, I doubt that Ty Segall (2017) could produce the same effect, even if I hope I’m wrong. But if it were indeed not the case, I’d send the slanderers back to Ty Segall’s other LPs and I would ask them to name an artist from the current garage scene who would be as accomplished and influential as him. They would search… And would find nothing. Then I’d smile.

Thanks Paul for the translation!