The Breeders, “Pod”
I’ve owned, and loved, the Breeders’ Last Splash since the mid-’90s, so why the hell did I wait nineteen years to listen to, and be entranced by, Pod?
One of the most influential albums on Kurt Cobain, Pod is to minimalist pop what The Velvet Underground and Nico was to pop’s avant garde. All the bones, all the architecture is exposed; and what gorgeous bone structure it is. I don’t know what Steve Albini’s production actually does to Pod, but the sound is amazingly spare, especially compared to Last Splash’s lush, distorted guitars and full sound.
Music snobs blab a lot about Keith Richards and Mick Taylor’s interweaving guitars, but on Pod they blend and contrast much like the music of They Might Be Giants: at once simple and cohesive, yet the guitars, like a TMBG bridge, create most of their effect from pure contrast. The anthems “Glorious,” “Hellbound” and “Iris” manage to paint large canvases with spare, reaching sounds without sacrificing any intimacy.
The lyrics are, of course, up to more than snuff on both albums, as Kim Deal takes on the majority of the writing. “Roi”’s puckish one-line entendre, “Saints” gorgeous evocation of state fairs, the restless dissatisfaction of time dragging on in “Glorious,” and running out in “Iris.”
Stunning.
One of the most influential albums on Kurt Cobain, Pod is to minimalist pop what The Velvet Underground and Nico was to pop’s avant garde. All the bones, all the architecture is exposed; and what gorgeous bone structure it is. I don’t know what Steve Albini’s production actually does to Pod, but the sound is amazingly spare, especially compared to Last Splash’s lush, distorted guitars and full sound.
Music snobs blab a lot about Keith Richards and Mick Taylor’s interweaving guitars, but on Pod they blend and contrast much like the music of They Might Be Giants: at once simple and cohesive, yet the guitars, like a TMBG bridge, create most of their effect from pure contrast. The anthems “Glorious,” “Hellbound” and “Iris” manage to paint large canvases with spare, reaching sounds without sacrificing any intimacy.
The lyrics are, of course, up to more than snuff on both albums, as Kim Deal takes on the majority of the writing. “Roi”’s puckish one-line entendre, “Saints” gorgeous evocation of state fairs, the restless dissatisfaction of time dragging on in “Glorious,” and running out in “Iris.”
Stunning.