Ty Segall - Melted

Following the untimely death of Memphis icon Jay Reatard, SoCal garage-rocker Ty Segall has more than once been pegged as a sort of spiritual replacement. But if Reatard’s brand of pummeling punk was like a flock of angry birds, Segall’s second release on legendary Memphis label Goner Records, Melted, is more like a brontosaurus stuck in a tar pit.

Melted takes the classic garage archetype—wailing, guitar-heavy anthems about girls and getting drunk—and, instead of pushing the speedometer past 100 like Reatard would’ve, mires the tracks in aural sludge. Riffs are fuzzed out until they’re blurry, and Segall’s voice, which is powerful and clear in its own right—dude can actually sing, hardly a given in punk—frays at the edges.

Tracks like “Melted” and the pounding “Imaginary Person” subvert Segall’s voice even further; on the former, words are buried and incomprehensible, and on the latter his singing becomes a blunt-force caterwaul. But make no mistake, there are tunes underneath this thickness, and Melted bulges with hooks and melody. Like Reatard, Segall’s charisma and presence carries the day, but the real precedent here is the Sonics. (“The Sonics! The Sonics!”)

Aside from the tunes, Segall’s versatility elevates Melted above standard lo-fi fare. “Mrs.” injects a dose of the blues into a grunge-leaning drone—“‘Cause I hurt my woman/I killed her there today/Oh Mississippi, Mississippi River/Won’t you send me on my way,” Segall sort of sneers, sort of begs—and lachrymose closer “Alone” distinguishes itself with a measured, deliberate tempo.

After Melted, it really doesn’t matter if Segall’s star is rising in the wake of Reatard or on a trajectory of its own. Bottom line is, it’s rising.