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Melody Maker
April 4th 1998
TIME WOUNDS ALL HEALS
(Egypt)
If pop music for you is solely something to hum along to in the shower, a
form of pleasant aural wallpaper, then (in best imitation traffic-cop
voice) "Move along, folks, ain't nothing for you here". This ain't easy
listening by any stretch of the imagination. But the best things in life
don't always come easy; sometimes you get as much as you give, sometimes
it feels right to suffer for someone else's art rather than just observe
it.
Passages of this, Quint's debut album, feel like you're taking refuge in a
tin shack as the mother of all tornados rages around you. Harsh,
discordant guitar slashes away methodically, while torrents of free-jazz
trumpet and vicious violin attack rain down on all sides. It's kinda like
being locked in a room with three different Steve Albini records all
playing at once, at different speeds! If this all sounds horrifically
messy and incoherent, Sally Young's distinctive vocals and gift for the
deceptively formless rock tune ensure that these noise-outs are
effortlessly absorbed into the stirring, structured songs that bear them.
So, no, this isn't easy listening, but neither is it bloody-minded
difficulty for its own sake. The music surges, mirroring the dramas
unfolding in the lyrics.
Simultaneously poetic and thoroughly bullshit-free, it rocks because of
its pretensions, not in spite of them.
Polly Harvey, watch out!
STEVIE CHICK
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