There's a Philadelphia band called Birds of Maya, who released two must-listen albums of extremely lo-fi rock'n'roll with plentiful shredding: 2008's Vol. 1 and 2010's Ready to Howl offered up guitar riffs that could've been lifted from 1970s hard-rock radio, but they sounded smothered, and, in the case of Ready to Howl, were stretched out over 20-minute songs. Both Birds of Maya albums rule, but more importantly, they offer essential context for the band's two offshoots: Mike Polizze's Purling Hiss, and most recently, Jason Killinger's Spacin'.
Spacin' is Killinger, Sean Hamilton on bass, Paul Sukeena on lead guitar, and Killinger's wife Eva on drums. While Purling Hiss' sound doesn't stray far from the aesthetic presented on the Birds of Maya albums (except for more direct hooks and warblier production), the debut Spacin' album, Deep Thuds, offers two distinct sounds: extremely direct rock'n'roll with muddy production and spacier tracks that stretch out for several minutes. Killinger's implementation of both techniques makes Deep Thuds compulsively listenable. "Chest of Steel", for example, is driven by a sunny, catchy, triumphant guitar solo, so even while the lyrics are semi-unintelligible, the hook dominates. Compare that to the second track on the album, "Some Future (Burger)"-- over five minutes of quiet, meditative, melody-free atmosphere, which is satisfying in its subtlety.
Impressively, the album never sounds stilted or uneven. The moment "Some Future" ends, we get "Wrong Street", which features a thudding bassline and a ripping, psychedelic guitar solo (and a brief, two-bar guest appearance from Polizze). Then there's the quiet jungle groove of "Oh, Man", which features intricate, subtle guitar tinges over its almost seven minutes. The album has seven tracks; each one offers a different soundscape, and somehow, the songs never clash with one another or sound out of place. That's a testament to how beautifully arranged Deep Thuds is.
Here's the other thing about this album: When Killinger delivers a song that's led by a dominant hook, it hits every time. Sometimes, it comes from a bare bones three- or four-chord melody, like the driving power chords of "Chest of Steel" and "Empty Mind". And sometimes, it's from a central guitar solo that pulls an entire song's weight. "Ego-go", for example, rides a hypnotic riff that creates an atmosphere akin to the Stooges' "Gimme Danger", and similarly, the song culminates in a huge guitar solo. "Sunshine, No Shoes" offers a breezy melody, crunching guitar, and verse to match the track title. And because those songs are bookended by some palate-cleansing atmospheric tracks, stuff like that riff from "Chest of Steel" get a much deserved spotlight.
But honestly, how can an album called Deep Thuds by a band called Spacin' with a drippy Rolling Stones logo on its cover not be remotely funny? Everything about the band's presentation says the album should be frontloaded with irony or snotty humor, but there's nothing like that here. Instead, it's a record that's patient, flows beautifully, offers sludgy production, and is packed with killer hooks. It's an album that uses fuzzed-out guitar for bursts of gutter shredding ferocity. It's a record that sounds like it could owe as much to Grouper as it does to the Velvet Underground or Hawkwind or the Stooges. No, it's not a nonstop shredfest like Birds of Maya's albums, but each deep thud rules.
