Swervedriver inhabit a funny spot within the pantheon of classic shoegazer bands. They were always slightly out of step with their 90’s Creation-era peers, most of whom appeared content to disappear behind a veil of tastefully shimmering feedback and lyrical obtuseness. Swervedriver, on the other hand, were more interested in ripping. Their guitars may have fed back through the requisite number of effects pedals—classic Swervedriver tshirts actually featured a connected bank of effects pedals rather than the band members—but rather than shrink into the feedback, Swervedriver married their guitar haze with nods to poppy psychedelia, American film noir, and songs about fast cars. They had more in common with bands like Dinosaur Jr. and Soundgarden (with whom they toured) than the more ethereal English bands (Ride, Lush, My Bloody Valentine) with whom they were forever lumped. Despite releasing four excellent records between 1991 and 1998, Swervedriver—plagued by label woes, lineup shifts, and bad timing—somehow never quite got their due.
Now, some 17 years since their last effort, (1998’s 99th Dream), Swervedriver return with a record that wisely plays up to the band’s most formidable strengths. Reunion albums can be a tricky and sometimes disastrous business (just ask the Pixies), but I Wasn’t Born To Lose You manages the rare trick of actually enhancing the band’s legacy rather than tarnishing it. Hewing most closely to their most beloved releases (1991’s Raise and 1993’s Mezcal Head), Born is a remarkably unfussy collection of songs that could easily pass—for better or worse—as a kind of lost album from the early 90’s.
Swervedriver’s strength always stemmed from the melodic interplay of guitarists Adam Franklin and Jimmy Hartridge—a collaboration that, at its best, felt like watching a rocket take off at close range and having it subsequently blow up in your face. It’s hard not to use firework metaphors when describing the band’s music, which seems to function best as a series of blinding explosions and brilliant fade-outs. Tracks like “Last Rites” and “Everso” are not-so-distant cousins to the band’s early “Sandblasted”-era singles—overdriven riffs reign supreme and songs build with mantra-like power before collapsing into long passages of looping, blissed-out guitar lines. Lead single “Setting Sun” proves to be an accurate barometer of the record’s overall vibe—a sustained mid-tempo reverie pushed along by Franklin’s characteristically low-key vocals: “Pure solid gold, you’re not alone, hearing unseen sounds from the depths below…”
If there’s a complaint to be had with I Wasn’t Born To Lose You it’s that the record too often errs on the side of restraint. The furious, breakneck quality of classic Swervedriver tracks like "Son of Mustang Ford” and “For Seeking Heat” is largely absent here, eschewed in favor of tracks that aspire to a kind of majestic dreaminess. With the exception of the propulsive “Deep Wound” and scuzz-rocking “Red Queen Arms Race” the record plays like a kind of sustained trance, everything buoyed by a sense of unwavering melody wrung out of guitars that—even when played gently—always seem to be turned up past eleven. “Behold this rhythmic creation, it’s beautiful and true” Franklin sings on “I Wonder?”—a nearly six-minute bit of gorgeously rendered guitar squall that closes the album. It’s a fitting description for the record itself—a collection of songs that may not necessarily venture into any new sonic territory for the venerable band, but ultimately doesn’t really need to.
