It’s a timely peek at their exciting future
In August NME spent two days in Seattle with [a]Yuck[/a]. Alongside tales of poisoned dogs and trigger-happy policemen, the band grizzled away on such subjects as their slacker rock lineage, their fear of America, and their reluctance to answer dumb questions. At one point a documentary maker grabbed them for a chat about the threat of the internet for indie bands. Frontman [b]Daniel Blumberg[/b] – DIY holiness pounding through his veins – yanked his shirt over his head and rocked awkwardly, moaning, “I can’t do this.” It was like a fuzzy rewind to 1990, watching Kurt at his insubordinate best. [a]Yuck[/a], it seems, are so indie it hurts.
Which makes it all the more weird to be repackaging their barely 10-month-old debut with a load of B-sides as an obvious cash-in on their new semi-fame. Worry not, though: it’s worth it for this, the one new tune on the record. Unsurprisingly, it’s no reinvention. Blumberg’s trademark whine carries beautifully across the downbeat slo-mo melody as guitars intertwine over a choral falsetto (a nod to a bigger, more heavily produced sound on the next record, possibly?). There’s a whiff of Blumberg’s glum side-project Oupa in the opening bars, but once you’ve banished those thoughts it’s a timely reminder of one of the year’s most brilliant debuts, and a peek at their exciting future.
Mike Williams, Deputy Editor