Some bands were only meant to last a short time. They enjoy a profound impact over a brief period, because that impact is dense and weighty (see Joy Division, Rapeman, Swell Maps, Nirvana), and if they’re worthy, maybe, over the long haul they’re eventually recognized as being truly influential, even if it’s only in a rarified space.
There are the bands that flame out quickly because they only have so many ideas (songs) in them, or their musical arc dissolves for some other reasons. In the case of Black Tambourine, whose arc lasted a very brief few years, it should also be noted that they existed well within the larger context of what was going on around them in a way that informs what they were doing as much as they informed some of those bands who came later.
It was a time of spontaneous discovery and re-invention. Kind of like a Moebius strip that folds back in on itself again and again. Right from their earliest demos in 1989, BT’s lo-fi presentation has mostly involved vocalist Pam Berry trying to crawl out from under the net of guitar gauze that covers most everything they touch. While it was said by some that they had a knack for injecting pop melodies into their hazy noise rock, that notion is actually quite inaccurate. In the main, Berry’s vocals are undercooked and non-pop-flavored, and the very raw moves on display with “For Ex-Lovers Only” are barely refined as they “progress” over time, and explore the brave new world of bold covers, like Love’s “Can’t Explain,” which barely retains its hook, but holds together as an example of how BT falls between two worlds.
The whole song is an attempt at getting the simple line “Can’t explain…” up front amidst a wave of buzzy electrons. While every song has a distorted snatch of melody or two that grabs you, most of them hang in the fuzzy mid-range region and don’t get bloody enough. Perception may, perhaps, be colored by time and circumstance now. It is important to remember that when some of these songs were released as 7-inch singles in the early 90s they were welcomed as part of the massive wave of indie noise rock that was changing the musical landscape forever. Now it seems a tad pretentious.
But, at the same time that bands like this were unfurling their noise flag on the underground and influencing young musicians, Nirvana was blowing the doors off the hinges upstairs, and making it possible for “noisier” music to be played on commercial radio. Even if it’s only as an historical document, this collection justifies its own existence.
