Ty Segall – Emotional Mugger
The Scene
Ah Ty, you never do disappoint. Not only is Mr Segall the most prolific rock and roller going around but the lad is constantly on his game too. Turns out there’s plenty you can do with an electric guitar and a sincere desire to shred it.
‘Emotional Mugger’ is Segall’s (who is yet to turn 30) eighth solo album, unless I’ve lost count, and that number doesn’t even come close to matching the many side-projects and collaborative efforts he’s been a part of. Most recently it was his band Fuzz with their proto-metallic sophomore record crunching its way into desirous ears. Now he’s here with his first solo record since the double-album glamoramic spectacular that was Manipulator (a 2014 Wildcard’s Album of the Year nomination).
And this one comes with a funny story. It was initially released last year in a very exclusive manner. I mean, there are exclusive releases and then there’s this. Forget about spontaneous unveilings or deluxe packaging. This one was put out with a limited edition issue of around a hundred or so copies and only in VHS. Yeah, like old video tapes. And the tapes played a mashup of various Michael Keaton movies. Absolutely magnificent. If you’re reading this, Ty (I guarantee there are musicians that scour every single review they can find – though I highly doubt he is one of them), mate, hit us up with a spare copy bro.
The Songs
- Squealer – Footsteps across the floor, keys jangling, a door opens then slams shut. And now we’re away running with a screechy, trilling tune of paranoid swagger.
- Californian Hills – More in focus but just as brooding, with a recurring bridge that sounds like it was spliced in from a different song. Good eerie stuff.
- Emotional Mugger/Leopard Priestess – Fuzzy-sharp stuttering guitar that follows the melody like some creep in a trench coat. Let’s ride.
- Breakfast Eggs – Faux-English vocals as he does so well, eggs are nice but Ty wants candy. The chorus is a real stormer.
- Diversion – Cover of an old Equals track which Ty completely ravages in a great way. Magnificent drumming by Dale Crover (of the Melvins). High energy with some spacey decorations.
- Big Baby Man (I Want a Mommy) – Madhouse music. Once we’re emotionally mugged we’re just babies on adult bodies. Crying and moaning and playing chaotic rock and roll.
- Mandy Cream – One of the two big jams on the record, the other follows it. More single-note guitar rippage with a chant-along vocal. Heard you screaming, screaming… Mandy Cream!
- Candy Sam – This one’s making the greatest hits album someday. Rapid, heavy and anthemic. Give the man some bloody candy before it’s too late!
- Squealer Two – That man’s still squealing but now mostly to a steady beat and the jangle of tambourines. It warps in the space heat towards the end.
- W.U.O.T.W.S. – Three minutes of audio collage, fading in and out if different ideas and moments like flicking down the dial on the radio.
- The Magazine – Loud and determined closer. Pulsing along with thunderous purpose. The extended handclaps are triumphant.
The Vibe
Trying to put this dude’s stuff in perspective ain’t easy with the myriad of projects his name gets attached to, picking up new bands with spontaneous glee. But Emotional Mugger definitely signals a return to something darker, something he hasn’t had so much to do with on his recent solo records (maybe a bit of the Fuzz II hangover?). That proto-metallic sheen replaces the glitter of Manipulator, and while both (and all of his) records rock hard, this EM has something more… rambunctious? ... about it.
When you’re as busy as Segall is – and goddammit can someone write a review that doesn’t have to mention that seven times (sorry) – then putting out albums with staying power isn’t easy. Each new thing buries the one before it, ya know? But Segall is a clever guy for whom thinking outside the box is his comfort zone. Emotional Mugger is high concept, not so much in sound but definitely in theme. There’s this running idea of candy. The candy is a metaphor (and a good one) for the instant gratification age, it’s sweet and it’s disposable. Is it good for you? Not at all, but we don’t care. Candy I want. Want your candy. Candy I want your candy.
And all that candy is apparently hollowing us out emotionally. But, hey, why explain it here when the man himself has already prepared a PSA for the epidemic:
In fact he’s really gone all in on the Emotional Mugging stuff. There’s a website for the pre-order with a phone number that I wouldn’t be shocked if it worked, with the cover artwork looking like something out of the hypothetical mashup film of Chucky and Rosemary’s Baby. Man, there was even a short film made, starring Segall, featuring a soundtrack of remixed tracks from the album. Not exactly a Leo DiCaprio turn since he mostly watches straight faced as a cop vacuums some guy’s insides and later on a hooker shoots herself up with goo and he himself slowly evolves into the Creature from the Blue Lagoon. It’s weird, that’s for sure.
The Music
On first listen it’s striking how grizzly and grimy and fuzzy and furry the whole thing is but most of these songs could have definitely been reworked in more accessible ways. Hell, a few coulda sat on the acoustic Sleeper album even. That’s the thing with this guy, he’s not afraid to get divisive with his sounds but the hooks and pop melodies are never far from the surface.
Neither are the wild turns. There’s this cool bit at the end of Candy Sam where this crunching tune full of distorted guitars fades into the same song but with a strummed acoustic, some whistling and a small choir of children singing “la la la”. It’s such a fun little flourish, ripping away the flesh and leaving only the skeleton. That’s what I mean about taking risks.
(On an Emotional Mugging perspective, the kids’ voices are again reflecting the infantilisation of people, so used to getting what they want when they want it that they’re left begging for more like a baby with outstretched hands, crying to be fed or changed.)
A more abrasive example would be the song W.U.O.T.W.S. which isn’t actually a song at all but a collection of a whole bunch of other segments. Didn’t recognise any known tracks but I could’ve missed a few. It feels like they were all half-baked ideas, tacked together like an art project. Good to see he recycles, but how many people would even think to do something like that? It’s still very listenable, though hardly one you’d come back to out of running order. The quick in-and-out it all appears to be a commentary on short attention spans, in keeping with the overall tone. I can tell you I’ve done that many a time myself, thousands of songs on my iPod and I spend twenty minutes skipping over them all on shuffle trying to find a single one I wanna listen to.
Even the handclaps on The Magazine, I tried to count them and I settled on 42 of them in the first clap solo and then the big long one runs for 192 claps on the trot. It must be so rewarding in itself to try something as unusual as that in the studio and have it sound as awesome as this does.
But it’s fair to say that this album does suffer just a bit from the fact that the songs aren’t all as strong as he’s capable of. They aren’t supposed to be either, this is an album that revels in its own frenetic, hair-pulling unbalance. However if you were here to listen to the man who is Marc Bolan’s spiritual heir then you’ll have to revisit Manipulator (which is a brilliant record, if I haven’t said that enough), here is the droning, leering, drooling Segall of his earlier, punkier self.
Although he’s touring it with a band known as The Muggers, most of this stuff was done by himself in the studio and overdubbed, as he tends to do. But with the band he isn’t even playing guitar, he’s wearing this creepy baby mask or he’s caked in makeup and he’s laying it down. Mate, is he ever, check out the team on Colbert the other day and it’s mesmerising (although Candy Sam sounded better on the record, tbf):
This is FULL CONCEPT. This is what I wish more artists would be like instead of being so instantly accessible. This is how you create a mystique about you and this DIY garage rocker is doing it better than most big budget pop stars (who can’t even manage a surprise release these days). I reckon Ty’s on my side too.
Revelations
What is Emotional Mugging? Well, officially it is a: “subject-to-subject exchange formed as a response to our hyper-digital sexual landscape.”
“Cut my finger, hurts to push it down…” – cue crunchy, sizzling guitars.
“Sound the Dionysus Bell, send them all back to hell!”
“Fingers on the pulse of their parents’ alienation/From the history, histories of Western civilization”
As well as Crover’s drumming, Charles Moothart (of Fuzz), Mikal Cronin (of the Ty Segall Band as well as of himself) and King Tuff all have appearances. King Tuffs guests on a few vocals in Mandy Cream.
NO MAN IS GOOD THREE TIMES
Let this wash all over you. Completely in mugged character. Baby mask, orange jumpsuits, fake umbilical cord and all:
That’s Mikal Cronin on bass, with Cody Hanson on guitar from the band WAND (check out their latest) and Kyle Thomas aka King Tuff on the other guitar (in orange). The drummer is Emmett Kelly of the Cairo Gang and I think the keyboardist is Evan Burrows from WAND as well, not sure. He introduces them but, like, not really. It’s something of a Californian garage rock super-group anyway.
“You don’t need a reason, it’s all in the magazine”
Finale
I love the fact that Segall never settles. The Segall doesn’t land, so to speak. With his talents and his growing profile he could definitely rest into a pleasant niche as a throwback garage rocker churning out the same kinds of hits for the next twenty years but there’s no sign whatsoever of him slowing down. Some people have a muse that cannot be tamed.
It’s also pretty funny that in making an album that revels in (and thus rebels against) the vacuity of modern life he’s made something that transcends that. Like, the promotion was so simple and strange that it stood out from the crowd, earning himself something memorable in a world where things are so easily accessed that it all becomes expendable. Which solves his own problem (is it really one?) of being so damn prolific.
And the album itself carries this uneasy tone that sticks with you too. Not destined to be the first Segall off the shelf for the uninitiated but it’s a memorable addition to the catalogue all the same. He’s never been more pointed and committed to a record like this before. Get off the damn computer and give it a spin.