There are plain old prolific souls, and then there are earthbound vessels for the inexhaustible delivery of transcendent joy and melody to the masses. And they’re pretty rare (who can you think of? Mark E Smith? Lou Reed? Dave Bowie?), at such quality anyway, and without extended mid-career crises wiping whole periods off the scoreboard. She’s on course for a nice round 20 album releases, probably within the next 18 months at her current rate, is Kristen Hirsch. Of course the majority are with her lauded 80s college band Throwing Muses, but she’s catching up with record after record of dainty and engaging solo work. And now, maybe aware that a tripod is sturdier than two wooden pegs, there is 50ft Wave.
With greatness there are always questions. Like why she’d want to add another band to her work roster? Especially when that band is essentially the Throwing Muses with a different drummer and their claws out anyway? And where does she get such undiminished enthusiasm from? To carry three projects almost simultaneously? But there are really no good answers, just really good songs, still. Which is all you need – it’s all she’s needed. But then maybe there is an answer. Maybe she just wanted to rock the fuck out a bit, let her hair down, ward off middle-age, get chatting to the devil and see if she couldn’t etch out some sort of deal.
This is in a way no different to Throwing Muses, other than being really bloody loud and unruly, where they were controlled and precise. But it is a world away from the tip-toe heartbeat of her solo acoustic work. In a nutshell it’s The Ramones seduced by Veruca Salt. And if that doesn’t get your heart in a leather jacket I don’t know what will. But if there’s a problem, and it’s only a small one, it’s that while her other two outlets have a certain timelessness to them ‘Golden Ocean’ firmly plants itself between Hole’s ‘Pretty On The Inside’, L7’s ‘Bricks Are Heavy’ and, lo, Throwing Muses’ ‘The Real Ramona’. Essentially it’s a grunge album, and that’s that. Sort of limits its prospects.
‘Ginger Park’ is a more agreeable Babes In Toyland, ‘Clara Bow’ the Breeders do Belly and ‘Dog Days’ knocks it about in Black Sabbath stylee, right down to the coarse cod-Ozzy harmonies, which was the lifeblood of the darker end of Seattle’s pet genre of course. Thanks to her melodic canniness there is individual success though. The light wah-wah trudge through ‘Sally Is A Girl’ and the colourful clear-cut riffery of ‘Diving’ in particular are excellent. And while she may not be remembered especially for her work with 50ft Wave, she certainly won’t be forgotten because of it.