Breeders - Girl-pop generation

When Ivo of 4AD turned his gaze across the Atlantic, he could only register an overflowing creative ferment, one that would soon lead to the explosion of rock scenes of international critical standing and, in some cases, commercial relevance. Between the mid-80s and early 90s, Olympia, Minneapolis (already for some time, in truth), Boston and Seattle were the epicenters of musical earthquakes whose aftershocks were felt throughout the following decade, at the very least.

Signing them was practically a given, perhaps with the aim of redefining the label's image without betraying its underlying philosophy, built on an iconic/sonic vision that amounted to a genuine treatise on existential philosophy. Need some names? Well, the following should suffice: Pixies, Red House Painters, Lisa Germano, Unrest, Throwing Muses - artists who would soon go on to rewrite the history of American rock, confirming once again the foresight of this extraordinary figure.

Within the label, as tradition dictated, collaborations found fertile ground, and the story we're about to tell stems from the meeting of two of the most gifted minds in the 4AD family, Kim Deal (Pixies) and Tanya Donnelly (Throwing Muses). Rather than an off-the-cuff side project, the Breeders represented a fully realized creative unit, both in sound and in underlying ethics/aesthetics, as well as an excellent outlet for a host of impulses that were perhaps partly repressed within their parent bands due to delicate interpersonal dynamics. Daughters of a resurgent feminism, whose demands built up until they exploded virulently into the themes of the riot grrrl movement, Deal and Donnelly became observers and interpreters of an existential unease typical of that era, to be understood as a reaction to the Reagan/Thatcher-era hedonism that defined the 1980s. But the response to that cultural hegemony was merely the substrate, a kind of obligatory yet natural passport for an alternative proposition.

The real thematic core rested on a delicate balance concerning the critical passage from adolescent to young woman, the phase in which the psychological turmoil of menstrual issues gives way to broader reflections on the scant symmetry/asymmetry governing the relationship between the sexes and on the difficulty of mutual recognition and acceptance.

Don't think of Hole or Babes In Toyland, nor explosions torching repressed rage, and not even the dissolute experiments on sexual taboos of a Lydia Lunch. In that sense, as a semiotic consequence of that conceptual approach, the music settled into a very particular stylistic shape, which found expression in a kind of psychedelic pop, raw yet composed, almost held back. The influence of the Pixies is not negligible, proof of Deal's artistic leadership, which became even clearer when Donnelly left between the first and second albums. It's the harmonies, alongside an innate ability to forge catchy choruses, that make the Breeders' sound so compelling. A spontaneous, almost unwitting experimentation, we might venture to say, that brought together different styles, sounds and rhythms seemingly hard to reconcile: punk, hard rock, grunge, psychedelia, hints of cocktail lounge, vocal harmonies recalling girl groups, and jagged, sudden shifts in register.

The Breeders' first incarnation consists, besides Deal and Donnelly, of Josephine Wiggs of Perfect Disaster (bass) and Britt Walford of Slint on drums, the latter under the pseudonym Shannon Doughton.

Recorded at Palladium Studios in Edinburgh, Pod boasts the usual great (non-)production of Steve Albini. The guru from Pasadena manages to turn potential into reality without weighing heavily on the band's stylistic identity. The sound is fresh and distorted, but never sloppy, as if the Breeders were playing live yet at the peak of their abilities. The graphic concept, the work of the genius Vaughan Oliver, would make a perfect subject for a university thesis bringing in Freud's dream interpretations, the erotic tensions of Paul Bowles' stories, and the grotesque art of the Surrealists.

Pod is an anthology of irresistible pop songs. Think of a cross between the Pixies of “Surfer Rosa” and the middle-period Throwing Muses, the ones between “Hunkpapa” and “Red Heaven”, to be precise. But the attentive listener won't miss the harmonic seasonings of Polvo, even more evident on the following album, adding extra flavor to the dish.

The music is lean yet compact, the result of a perfect integration between rhythmic and solo mechanisms, of guitars so virtuosically Young-esque/Verlaine-esque, nervous, trembling, even uncertain. The opening “Glorius” is the manifesto, a slow, vacuum-sealed dirge in which that unstable sound we mentioned earlier gets to emerge. The forced Beatles cover of “Happiness Is A Warm Gun” follows the same line, while “Doe” is the power-pop template that most of the Breeders' songs will follow, starting with “Fortunately Gone”, like the Ronettes in indie-rock guise. Then comes “Hellbound”, a garage ruckus with searing, out-of-control guitars within the song's otherwise poppy composure.

Generally restrained, or at least never garish, the Breeders betray a visionary rage on “Iris”, a pounding soft-loud-soft dynamic and an enveloping bassline that smooths out the expressive delirium. The imprint of the Boston scene comes through in the mix of electric and acoustic sounds on “Metal Man” and “Oh”, a gorgeous slowed-down ballad ennobled by Carrie Bradley's electrified violin, which she tortures until it bleeds out a deeply sad melody, like a Warren Ellis in menstrual neurosis.

Slightly inferior to the later Last Splash in terms of compositional maturity, Pod nonetheless won over critics of the time thanks to its spontaneous, brilliantly pop sound.

The next step, the EP Safari, saw the arrival of the other Deal, Kelly, and is still centered on themes of sexuality, on the difficult relationship with the opposite sex and with one's own body. “Safari”, “Do You Love Me” and “So Sad About Us” would not have been out of place on Pod, steeped in an intimacy so intense it's almost embarrassing to listen to, as if trespassing on someone else's private matters.

Meanwhile Donnelly leaves (she would go on to form Belly), while Jim Macpherson permanently takes over behind the drums. The band accompanies Nirvana on their 1992 European tour, opening the shows.

1993 is the year of Last Splash, the band's masterpiece and one of the best indie-rock albums of the decade.

With Albini let go, it's Kim Deal, supported by Mark Freegard, who produces the record. Continuing along the path laid out by Safari, the Breeders beef up their sound while at the same time smoothing out its rough edges. The guitars roar with sleepy distortion, the choruses are fully formed and hummable, while the rhythms push forward with greater vigor. The music is undeniably more "marketable", to the point that Last Splash goes platinum, propelled by the success of the single “Cannonball”.

Deal's songwriting, however, keeps its irreverent appeal, and the delirious feminism of some of those lyrics makes her one of the leading voices of the youthful zeitgeist of that decade.

The Breeders move with nonchalance between the country of “Drivin' On 9” and the nursery-rhyme “Mad Lucas”, like a Lisa Germano exiled to Hawaii. Hawaiian guitars return on “No Aloha”, buried under a landslide of sweeping riffs and filtered vocals. “Roi” comes close to noise avant-garde, with a thicket of alienating distortions enveloping Deal's visionary singing, an unsettling, incestuous offspring born of the union between Earth and Neil Young's “Dead Man”.

Deal's lyrical talent reveals itself in short, striking phrases: “We were rich once/ Before your head exploded/… If you are so special why aren't you dead…”, she sings on “I Just Wanna Get Along”, a B-52's-style party song, while the nervous breakdown of “New Year” perfectly captures the post-adolescent tensions the Breeders give voice to.

Last Splash seemed poised to launch the band into the stratosphere of alternative rock, but that never happened. The grueling 1994 tour probably broke the toy, and a series of events effectively led to the project being shelved.

Kelly, arrested for drug possession, is admitted to a rehab clinic in Minnesota. In '96 she's back in action with the Kelley Deal 6000 project. Meanwhile, Kim devotes herself to the Amps, and Wiggs to the Josephine Wiggs Experience.

In 1997, a Breeders lineup plays at the memorial concert for Tim Taylor, singer of the great Brainiac, who died in a car accident, and so rumors begin circulating about a possible new album. Title Tk arrives in 2002, with Albini at the mixing desk, but it's a minor disappointment, as the mixed reviews confirm.

The problem? Kim Deal suffers from her own maturation, remaining trapped in an eternal musical adolescence that limits her artistic evolution. Outpouring, feelings repressed and then expressed in a visceral manner: Kim isn't a singer-songwriter, and like Juliana Hatfield she tries to give the songs conceptual depth without having the necessary skills. Within the mass of compositions, often just sketches, a couple of gems do stand out, on the order of "Too Alive" and "Huffer", keeping the record afloat.

Like Nirvana, the Lemonheads, the Replacements and the Sex Pistols before them, the Breeders are (were?) a generational band, among the most representative of the previous decade. It's hard to imagine an evolution that takes into account the socio-cultural changes that have occurred, as well as the artistic directions that have already been underway for some time. In any case, we remain hopeful.

A wait that pays off in 2008 with Mountain Battles, a record that revives the old rocking glories. The Deal sisters prove they can still spit out explosive tracks, strictly under three minutes. "Overglazed" stamps, with its rhythmic exuberance, a manifesto that's old but not stale: simple, direct, sung with passion, atmospheric. Gorgeous examples of unhealthy electricity follow one another steadily ("Bang On", "German Studies"), tiny folk dances highlight Kim Deal's craggy but always effective voice ("Night Of Joy", "We're Gonna Rise", "Spark").

The formula works, in short, even if at times it seems to evolve with mixed results: the slowed-down "Istanbul" comes across as almost amateurish, yet seductive, the tense "Wake It Off" rises up as the album's anthem thanks to its melodic emphasis, the Spanish vocals of "Regalame Esta Noche" lend vivacity to the record's central section, which also manages to add a highly effective country-folk number like "Here No More".

In the final stretch, opulence takes over, with the fat, rotten "No Way", propped up by a languid guitar riff, the sugary "It's The Love" and the title track, a splendid epitaph, extravagant yet essential, the sublimation and yet another confirmation of this band's worth, with the slow crescendo of the voice and icy distortions veering toward unusual territory.

Mountain Battles (2008) reveals itself as an important milestone for a collective that seemed destined to remain shelved for good. A simple record of slippery songs, irresistibly charming and timeless.

For the 20th anniversary of Last Splash, Kim Deal brings together the lineup that recorded that record, to play it live in full.

The frontwoman thus seizes the opportunity to try out new material with precisely the lineup of her artistic peak. The result is a new comeback album, a decade after its predecessor, All Nerve (2018), hailed by many as a reflective, dark work, indicative of the adulthood reached by Deal and co. Without direction and without much spark, it still has grit and brevity on its side ("Wait In The Car") and a moment that might actually point toward a singer-songwriter path ("Dawn: An Effort").

Let's start a new life/Beat's gonna lead us/Live on

In 2024, at 63 years of age, Kim Deal decides to launch her solo career and for the first time puts herself on the cover.

The gestation of her debut was very long and encompasses several phases of Kim's life; some tracks ("Are You Mine?" and "Wish I Was") date back to 2013, while the others accumulated over the years. We're clearly looking at an artist in a reflective phase, trying to take stock of her life, both the rocker life spent on stages around the world amid addictions and excesses, and her everyday life with its pains, relationships and all its fragilities.

Once again, Deal shows off all her gifts as a great songwriter.

Variety and eclecticism are the most evident musical traits of "Nobody Loves You More": the cage of indie rock seems to feel too tight for the 2024 version of Kim Deal, and she tries to force her way out of it by every means possible.

The opening track "Nobody Loves You More" has a retro charm, with fluttering strings and an instrumental break loaded with cinematic appeal. A swinging breeze blows through the languid guitars of "Summertime", exotic aromas drift through "Coast" in a splash of Calypso and a dash of Blondie, and when the hunger for a beat creeps in, "Cristal Breath" will satisfy the appetite.

Even the most intimate moments manage to be gripping: on "Are You Mine?" Kim makes palpable the love and pain of watching her mother's mind slip away into Alzheimer's, just as the Velvet-esque "Wish I Was" captures all the weariness of feeling youth slipping behind you, even when the voice belongs to an eternal teenager.

Less convincing is the murky experiment "Big Ben Beat", with its broken beats driven by overdriven bass paired with thin Tex-Mex guitars.

When Kim goes back to familiar ground, she's at her best. "Come Running" is magnetic, full of ups and downs with angelic backing vocals over distorted guitars; the power pop of "Disobedience" carries the cynical disillusionment of someone who always rooted for revolt, and the closing "A Good Time Pushed", produced by Steve Albini, has a scent of psychedelia and restrained fun.

Since her sister Kelley and drummer Jim MacPherson contributed to "Nobody Loves You More", this album doesn't mark the end of the Breeders, who are in great shape and this summer joined Olivia Rodrigo's tour.

Besides the Breeders, Kim had plenty of friends backing her on this late-career debut, including Josh Klinghoffer, Raymond McGinley of Teenage Fanclub, Britt Walford of Slint, and, for the warm Caribbean sounds of "Coast", the band Mucca Pazza.

"I'm intrigued by failure," Deal declares, but the opposite seems to be true. "Nobody Loves You More" shows the courage to venture into territory rarely explored before, combined, however, with a real knack for never losing her way and always finding the path back.

Failure postponed, mission accomplished, well done Kim.

Contributions by Alessandro Biancalana ("Mountain Battles") and Michele Saran ("All Nerve")

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