The Upshot: Heavy-ass distorto blooze and sensual distaff trance-rock from a staggeringly powerful guitar/drums gal/guy L.A. duo. Check out their GoFundMe campaign as well if this review piques your interest!
BY FRED MILLS
Although Cathy Cooper and Stephen McNeely stake a claim, on their debut longplayer, for single-word nouns, adjectives, and adverbs (much like they did on their 2015 official unveiling, an eponymous 5-song 12” EP) as a songwriting M.O., the view from above definitely suggests a multi-hyphenate approach to music-making for the L.A. blooze-skronk power duo. The album, Weep, is populated by minimalist, cipher-like numbers, ranging from the Gun Club thud-boogie distorto-blooze of “Blind” and its more straightforward trance-rock counterpart “Tonight” (in which Cooper’s slide guitar steadily rises, in tandem with her haunted vocal, from a drone to a squall; think Nirvana covering Junior Kimbrough); to the yipping, yowlping, flanging, crashing “Never” (here, McNeely’s kit pounding eggs Cooper on to the point of mania), and the appropriately horrific, protracted sonic blood-letting that is “Suicide.”
It’s a breathtaking performance, no lie, equal parts deep-roots, slide-guit, electrified folk-blues, and latterday dissonance-mongering as perfected early on by the Birthday Party and the Lydia Lunch-powered Sonic Youth. Cooper is positively possessed throughout 150% of these 10 songs, somehow managing to find space to wield her guitar and lap steel amid quavering/quivering/howling extemporaneous flights at the mic, while compatriot McNeely thumps ‘n’ thuds with the dystopian, brontosaurian aplomb of a young John Bonham. The only contemporary outfit that I can reliably compare The Great Sadness to is Australia’s legendary, nigh-unapproachable feedtime. (By way of relevant contextual background: Cooper previously performed in Beaver Trap, Touchcandy, and The Shotgun Of Khando, prior to making some solo records and working as a sculptor; McNeely had cut his teeth in hip-hop and dance music, and after moving to L.A. from Colorado in 2011, he met Cooper through his sister, who heard Cooper was seeking a simpatico drummer.)
For all you record collectors in need of some kind of psychological respite from this mammoth wall o’sound: Weep arrives as a gorgeous milky/cloudy splotched white vinyl edition, housed in a gatefold sleeve with a staggering inner mural reminiscent of legendary underground artist S. Clay Wilson. Don’t blame me, however, when you drop the needle onto the platter and your visual reverie is gets shattered to pieces. (Preview and order at the band’s Bandcamp page.) Need you any additional urging?
DOWNLOAD: “Tonight,” “Suicide,” “Enough”