“To All Trains” is the latest album by the American noise rock trio Shellac. It bears the signature of recently deceased mastermind Steve Albini.
Shellac: Steve Albini, Todd Trainer and Bob Weston (left to right) Photo: Daniel Bergeron
Rarely have the obituaries and expressions of mourning for a musician been so numerous and so moving through social media and specialized magazines as in the case of Steve Albini. At least when you consider that it wasn’t a rock star who died early, at just 61 years old, but rather the guitarist and singer of a relatively small American band. But also one of the most legendary producers of today.
Although Albini would not have accepted “producer”. He only called himself a “sound engineer,” and this is probably a key to this gigantic life’s work. Albini conceived sound as technical work in which the material, the instruments and their specific sounds, and the result, the sound, come first. And then nothing happens for a long time.
The fact that “To All Trains” – as planned long in advance – was released a few days after the death of Steve Albini obviously adds a lot of weight to the seventh and final album by his band Shellac. But this quickly disappears if you listen. Ten short songs that would not have been noticed on the previous works. Heavy, but also extremely groovy noise rock, of which you hear that Led Zeppelin and AC/DC were also often listened to here. And not just the Japanese noise band Zeni Geva.
Unlike Albini’s previous bands Big Black and Rapeman, the quirky, dissonant guitar sound never really hurts. The hyper-calculated nature of the music contributes significantly to the freedom from pain, which is atypical for the genre.
Power of the music
Songs like the opener “WSOD” and “Scrappers” seem calculated rather than composed. And then when someone kicks or screams on a distortion pedal, the comparison kind of disappears. The power of this music does not arise from the otherwise typical loud-quiet alternations, because it is almost continuously loud, but from a strong tension that is constantly released.
This sonic reduction seems dry and yet never clinical
Shellac albums have always been an opportunity for Steve Albini to present the sound he developed in his Chicago Electrical Audio studio in a concentrated form. Bass, drums and guitar are recorded in the same room, always to the point, no inaccuracies, nothing is sanded off.
Everyone plays with maximum discipline and this concentration is reflected in the sound. This sonic reduction seems dry and yet never clinical. Steve Albini never used effects or compressors when recording the Shellac albums or anywhere else. The room always resonates, and the loss that Albini’s death represents becomes clear when you listen to it.
Many bands will no longer be able to sound the way they could sound if they were in the studio with Steve Albini. And ‘better’ here is not something banal, but rather an all-encompassing difference. Steve Albini’s rants against them Music industry in general and major labels in particular are legendary.
Radical and consistent work ethic
The polemic arises from anger towards a cynical professional approach that no longer focuses on the love for the material, but on everything else: image, strategy, profit. Steve Albini’s life’s work countered this with a radical, consistent work ethic that was completely old-fashioned. American DIY hardcore punk scene was invented in the 1980s. You do everything yourself and you take so little money with you that the studio remains affordable for no one. The thought that someone worked here until he had a heart attack makes the whole thing a bit tragic.
“To All Trains” is certainly not Shellac’s best album, although, like all of this band’s work, it grows with every listen. The ten songs seem very fitting as a conclusion to this life’s work, especially because nothing earth-shattering new happens here.
What defines Steve Albini’s work, besides its unmistakable sound, is a consistency that consists of unwaveringly implementing a sonic aesthetic that fully reveals the potential of the band in question. The simple continuation of this sound is more appropriate than if Shellac had suddenly recorded an electronic album.
At the end of “To All Trains” there is a kind of farewell song, with a nice cracking bass. The title is ‘I’m not afraid of hell’. The lyrics of the song are, among other things, about the fact that if the lyrical self goes to hell, it will meet all its friends again down there.
“Something, something, something when this is over / I’ll jump in my grave like a lover’s arms / If there’s a heaven, I hope they have fun / ‘Cause if there’s a hell, I’ll know everyone.” Unexpectedly forgiving at the end, but that is of course pure coincidence.