Ty Segall put his bubbling music career into fruition via a few San Fransisco Bay Area and Orange County bands. Epsilons, The Traditional Fools, and Party Fowl were a few of the projects Segall was an important roll in. Shortly after breaking into the scene, he put his ability to craft genuine rock and roll on the front burner. Being well conditioned in more than one instrument, he broke away, relying solely on himself to produce the sound in which he yearned for. With Goodbye Bread, Segall breaks away from his rather traditional sound that relied primarily on effects and bit of a clamor that made it hard to make out what he's saying. More relaxed and inviting, this albums says goodbye confusion and hello clarity. This one is hard not to enjoy. Thoroughly satisfying from start to finish, this is one LP I'd recommend to anyone looking for a fresh and listenable garage rock album. Personally, I feel this album would be a good choice as a first listen for anyone new to Ty Segall's work.
Instantly, you are captivated by the nostalgic strum of the guitar and Segall's perfectly present voice. This song feels like a memory of a good time spent with friends kicking up sand playing a game of Frisbee on the beach whilst the sun sets behind you. A farewell to the old, and a start to a new beginning. New label, new sound. Makes sense, right? Up next, "California Commercial" is a bit self explanatory. Segall invites you into the side effects of the west coast lifestyle with this aggressive blues rock anthem with a style I'd feel comfortable relating to that of King Kahn.
Sounding somewhat of an anthem, "Comfortable Home (A True Story)" serves you a rather uncomfortably structured simplistic garage rock rhythm accompanied by an apparently true story. Full of soul and easily one of the strongest tracks this album has to offer, "You Make the Sun Fry" is a powerhouse of a single. This song is reminiscent of early 60s psychedelia bands such as Pearls Before Swine.
Bringing it back down a notch, "I Can't Feel It" is a cold, rather saddening track. However, perfectly placed in the album to tie things together. Ironically titled, "My Head Explodes" makes my mind burst in an excited frenzy out of the simple fact that I haven't come across anything quite like this song. Stumbling in with a slow and groggy riff then out of nowhere sounding like something from 'The Kink's Village Green Preservation Society'. It's self evident in this one song how passionate Segall is about his writing. This song peaks at about two minutes and fifty seconds then immediately shifts to a tour de force barrelling out of your speakers into your body.
Whilst listening to "The Floor," I couldn't help but get a '60s' era psychedelic feel. The vibe is overwhelming, jumping straight to the point then suddenly withdrawing. I felt like I was listening to the sounds of a young Jim Morrison, if you would. This well balanced and somewhat polarized song evens things out with drawn out sludgy bass lines and soothing highs in the background vocals accompanied by simplistic but perfectly necessary drumming. Soon after it winds back into the opening riff and builds to a smooth finish. Fuzzy, dark, dissonant, and droning. All of the which describe this second to last track filling in after my favourite track of the album. "Where Your Head Goes" is to a place where you're constantly bombarded with noise and distorted confusion. Abrasive enough to get your attention, but not enough to push you away.
Blues, Rock & Roll, Psychedelia, Garage Rock, what more could you ask for in a single track? "I Am With You" has all of that and more. No amount of justice can be done by any silly genre tag for this clusterfuck of joy to my ears. I mean, c'mon, who else name-drops The Reading Rainbow in a closing track? I rest my case.