So, Jason Lytle tried to fool us all a little while ago by trimming back that which defines him and his band, even more so than their cascading psychedelic daydream rushes and obsessive hoarding of cotton-soft melodies. But there ain’t no fooling us, Jase. The bulk of the actual beard may have gone, but your anonymity is hardly assured when your tunes remain just as coarse, colloquially bushy and generally warming. It is, though, a relief that the clippers encroached no further than his facial limits, because this mini-album is yet another generous collection of lush ‘n’ lovely tuneage – no trimming required. And while it’s not necessarily different or marked enough to celebrate too loudly, it hints at a recently rediscovered definition that makes it increasingly palatable.
In fact, opening track ‘Pull The Curtains’ feels like CPR on an existence that had subsided ever so slightly into complacency with the release of ‘Sumday’. Don’t get us wrong, there were moments on that record that could sit cheerfully on any retrospective playlist, but with the benefit of hindsight it was a far too comfortable a collection and sounded a like their definitive work ‘The Sophtware Slump’ deflating, s-l-o-w-l-y. That is confined to history in an instant though with a craggy kick of just-distorted guitars and fuzzy electronics powering forward with unusual intent. It’s like thrashing around wrapped in a duvet and even goes so far as to evoke the less ethereal early sounds of ‘Under the Western Freeway’.
The rest of the album is somewhat more serene, but no less pert and certainly isn’t without bite. ‘Fuck The Valley Fudge’ is a marginally incoherent piece of piano balladry, sat up dead straight, with a surprisingly sharp aftertaste. ‘Florida’ is a giddy collision of Eels/Beefheart eccentricity, Wilco wig-out and turbulent Mercury Revving. And ‘At My Post’ is good old fashioned piece of Grandaddy meandering, but at pace and with an ‘A’ and ‘B’ point clearly marked, and moved between progressively. As a stop-gap this doesn’t hint at the possibility of reinvention, maybe disappointingly, but it does at a welcome rebirth. And their best set of songs since ‘The Sophtware Slump’ is a most unexpected result.