At Action Park

About

Few bands epitomize the phrase “power trio” better than Shellac, a mighty triumvirate that emerged from the early-1990s Chicago underground with the intention of combatting music industry commercialism—and anything else they considered lame. Guitarist Steve Albini was already a veteran of several snarling band, not to mention the analog audio engineer of choice for the likes of the Pixies and The Jesus Lizard. After some heavy jams with militant drummer Todd Trainer, they enlisted bassist Bob Weston to form Shellac, eschewing promotion and hype for a series of short-run singles that felt nimbler and more nuanced than Albini’s bludgeoning earlier work. But the beautifully belligerent noise-rock of <i>At Action Park</i>, the trio’s 1994 full-length debut, takes no prisoners as it takes shots at, well, <i>everything</i>. First, there’s the sound: rock ’n’ roll distilled into perfect versions of its basic element. With his pristine drum thunder, Trainer suggests John Bonham addicted to minimalism, with Weston slapping at every beat like it’s a gnat. Swiping at an aluminum-neck Travis Bean guitar with a copper pick, Albini’s riffs suggest a buzzsaw grafted onto a scythe, all dangerous and beautiful. And his hoarse shouts—about porn stars and loneliness and miscreants—always sound like the preambles to a fistfight. .

via Apple Music

The Clerk says

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