Yuck’s self-titled debut plays like the record collection of a mid-’90s indie rock aficionado. The London-based quintet lies somewhere in between the noise rock of Sonic Youth, the gritty haze of Dinosaur Jr., the blatant lo-fi recording of Pavement and, at times, the unrelenting distortion of My Bloody Valentine.
Strangely enough, Yuck is led by 20-year-old vocalist and guitarist Daniel Blumberg who was around 5 years old during the heyday of the bands that he musically emulates.
Despite the generation gap, Blumberg and the rest of his band, consisting of an additional guitarist, a bassist, a drummer and a backing female vocalist, have a knack for revitalizing the roots of the now-popular indie rock scene.
The album’s most prominent features are the near constant presence of a fuzzy, droning guitar sound and heavy use of vocal reverb. The album opens with the song “Get Away,” a catchy guitar-driven romp that one would expect to hear jangling out of a college radio back in 1998. This sound is largely echoed on tracks such as “The Wall,” “Holing Out” and “Operation.”
However, Yuck is able to vary their sound while staying maintaining the ’90s indie aesthetic they so heavily rely on. Songs like “Shook Down” and “Georgia” expand on the band’s musical ability, with the former using clean guitars and clean vocals that sound more like something one would expect to hear on a R.E.M. record, while the latter makes extensive use of layered male and female vocals.
One of the band’s greatest strength lies in their ability to alternate between heavy, gritty songs and near”“acoustic ballads. Tracks like “Suicide Policeman,” “Suck” and “Stutter” showcase Yuck’s softer side, taking some emphasis off of the guitars and instead giving it to the vocals. Yuck even strays into post-rock territory with the penultimate song “Rose Gives a Lilly,” an engaging Explosions in the Sky-esque instrumental piece that almost sounds out of place on the album.
The album ends with “Rubber,” a seven-minute-and-14-second juggernaut of distortion, in which the guitars completely drown out the vocals. The song eventually goes on to accomplish what the album has been threatening to do since the first track: It dissociates into pure swirling noise and eventually fades to complete silence.
“Yuck” is not merely a revival of the mid-’90s. Though Yuck’s sound isn’t necessarily original, it isn’t a straight copy of the bands that obviously influenced it either. Rather, the record comes across as a homage of sorts to the bands that pioneered lo-fi indie rock, while still creating its own distinct sound. The band manages to stay relevant because they play with a measure of energy and commitment that keeps their recycled sound fresh and gives listeners something that the aging bands of the 1990s can no longer offer.
In addition, the album’s lyrics stray far from the tried and true ’90s indie rock formula. Save for a few vague metaphors, Yuck’s songs are devoid of the lyrical ambiguity that defined bands such as Pavement and Sonic Youth. From a purely lyrical standpoint, the album sounds more modern and simplistic, with clearly defined lyrics expressing themes of love and loss. However, this discrepancy does not detract from the music; in fact, it is an asset, making the album more accessible to a first-time listener.
All in all, “Yuck” is not a revolutionary album. It does not signify the dawn of a new age of music, nor does it push the boundaries of sound further than they have ever been pushed before.
Nevertheless, “Yuck” is a good, solid album and a very enjoyable listen. It is a stellar debut effort that demonstrates that Yuck has the potential to become a mainstay on the indie rock scene.