In recent years, even when he's sharing the spotlight, Ty Segall has been the central focus of his endeavors: Ty Segall and White Fence, Ty Segall and Mikal Cronin, Ty Segall Band. With Fuzz, even though he's stepped back to the drumset, he's still the singer, he's still helping to write the songs, and he's really good at drumming. Segall's records come with that inevitable "prolific songwriter" baggage, and that might be why Fuzz tried to stay anonymous when they released their first single. Maybe the trio were trying to sidestep the Segall conversation altogether. Of course, it didn't work. It was always pretty easy to figure out who was singing those songs, and it didn't help when they outed themselves as Fuzz to Spin before even releasing a Fuzz record. Once again, at least in their press coverage, Segall receives top billing.
But with an almost startlingly generic band name (that has been used a few times already), it feels clear that the attention was never meant to be solely Ty's this time. Fuzz is a power trio—a united front of longhairs who work together to build a hard rock soundscape. It's not about the people, it's about the fuzz, man. Segall's vocals pack the cartoon menace of early Sabbath Ozzy, and his drumming is precise-yet-loose, powerful, thrilling. Roland Cosio helms a steady, groove-ready low end. Then there's Charles Moothart, the quiet guitarist who helped create the obliterating guitar sound of Slaughterhouse. He's also the band's riff writer—he'd set up a riff, Segall would help him finish it and add lyrics. You don't have to live with Fuzz for very long before it's clear that the riffs and guitar solos are the main event. Moothart deserves just as much limelight as Segall.
Take the opening moments of "Sleigh Ride", "Raise", and "Loose Sutures"—all are kicked off by a meaty and catchy guitar line. One minute, Moothart's busting an enormous guitar solo on "Loose Sutures", the next he's doing some delicate, somber work in "Hazemaze". He even gets to step out front on "Raise", contributing a rare vocal turn where his assertive baritone takes a cynical look at the existance of God. And his voice sounds really good over this proto-metal guitar rock. In a vocals-specific analogy comparing Ty Segall Band to the Who, Segall is Daltrey (the electric frontman vocalist), Mikal Cronin is Townshend (the tenor who can scream real good), and apparently, Charles Moothart is Entwistle (the traditionally quieter one who could totally be the lead singer if he wanted to).
But again, while everybody gets their individual moment to shine, it'd be short-sighted to pick an MVP in Fuzz. This album finds strength in the loud, jam-centric prowess of all three dudes playing together. As a unit, they achieve power, drive, and soul. They've got the same chutzpah the MC5 had on Kick Out the Jams, but Fuzz don't sing about revolution. They sing about burning, bleeding, and burials. They're like a murder-obsessed Blue Cheer. On "Sleigh Ride", belting in a goblin voice and spitting out every consonant as hard as he can, Segall sings, "Isolation,/ Isolation,/ Feel the stiffness of isolation." Meanwhile, the band establishes vicious, galloping pace—intimidation all around, nowhere to hide.
Like Slaughterhouse before it, Fuzz is an album that depends heavily on power. But while the trio keep muscle and intimidation in play throughout the album, they also leave room to calm down and breathe. Stuff like "I Bought My Eyes" stacked power upon power for an entire track, inviting you to speed across the highway or sprint to the finish of a particularly difficult run or lift an impossibly heavy object. "Loose Sutures" comes to a full stop in the middle, leaving only the persistent hiss of feedback. For two minutes, there's no adrenaline rush—it forces you to be patient while Cosio rides out a bass solo and while Ty offers up a few drum fills. And then, a slow build of drums into a full, loud, utterly satisfying wall of sound that crashes through to the finish. It's a similar technique to the one Sabbath implemented on Paranoid by placing the mellow "Planet Caravan" between "Paranoid" and "Iron Man". "Loose Sutures" has sweet harmonies, feedback-coated quiet, noise, and a searing guitar solo—it's definitely a well-crafted hard rock song.
Ultimately, it's an album that would benefit from a few more sonically diverse moments like that one or the quiet sprawl of Fuzz's opening stretch. The band is obviously very good at delivering infectious hooks with muscle and soul, but those moments only pop if there's a control in place to offset the heavier stuff. Otherwise, the record becomes one big mass of fuzzy low-end guitars and occasional solos. Fuzz consistently run the risk of noodling for a bit too long or pushing one idea a little too far. It's tricky to balance loud and quiet, and Fuzz are still finding their footing. They thrive when they're locked into a sturdy, well-constructed groove like "Fuzz's Fourth Dream" (which, as a stand-alone 7", is the band's best release to date). But in Fuzz's 36 minutes, Segall, Moothart, and Cosio find several satisfyingly stoned, overwhelmingly powerful hooks. That's a good place to start.
