Following the Byrds-indebted bliss of Primal Scream’s debut, Sonic Flower Groove, bandleader Bobby Gillespie reassembled a lineup and literally grew his hair long to prepare for the uninhibited riffs and leather-laden swagger of the group’s eponymous sophomore album in 1989. Fans were surprised—just like when Gillespie’s old group The Jesus & Mary Chain swapped noisy gauze for high-production sheen—but time has shown thrilling reinvention to be Gillespie’s greatest asset. The shift is told by the cover art: instead of Sonic Flower Groove’s nod to 1960s collegiate artist chic, Primal Scream’s cover depicts little more than wild manes in motion—the visual analog to both the blues-spew thump of “Ivy Ivy Ivy” and the incredible, Beggars Banquet-era Rolling Stones homage, “I’m Losing More Than I’ll Ever Have” (which made history again as the basis for Primal Scream’s crossover hit, “Loaded”). But Primal Scream also slays with softness: “You’re Just Dead Skin to Me” features emotive keys from Felt’s Martin Duffy, and “You’re Just Too Dark to Care” movingly evokes Alex Chilton’s hushed despair on Big Star’s 3rd. Soon after, Screamadelica christened the band with a new identity, but Primal Scream established a mode to which Gillespie would return on 1994’s excellent Give Out But Don’t Give Up.
LP $20.25
09/09/2016
Bobby Gillespie’s departure from The Jesus & Mary Chain enabled the pioneering Scots bandleader to focus on Primal Scream full-time. The rewards arrived quickly: the early B-side “Velocity Girl” ended up on NME’s legendary C86 compilation (and later inspired the American indie-pop band of the same name), and Primal Scream connected with the crucial English indie label Creation. For the band’s debut, Primal Scream opted for producer Mayo Thompson—leader of left-field psych outfit Red Krayola and producer for Pere Ubu, Felt, and The Chills, among others—and completed Sonic Flower Groove for release on the newly set up Warner Bros. subsidiary Elevation Records in 1987. It’s the only album featuring Gillespie’s wistful, almost fey vocal style, which makes impeccably balanced pop compositions like “Aftermath” especially infectious. The influence of The Byrds is glaring. Glistening guitar melodies entwine and, yes, jangle, though the way they mingle with and complement Gillespie’s voice distinguishes the tribute. It’s also a prescient album, predicting the refined rock sensibility that would in a few years come to characterize Britpop, but by then Gillespie and Primal Scream would already be blazing new trails.
LP $20.25
09/09/2016