Suicide Squeeze Records (V/A)

Slaying Since 1996

(Suicide Squeeze)

Record Review by Adam McKibbin

Anniversary compilations are often a good opportunity for record labels to introduce the casual listening public to bands on their roster that have floated under the radar.  While that is occasionally the case with Slaying Since 1996, the double-disc self-salute from Suicide Squeeze to their ten fine years in the indie music world, it’s more typical that the reaction will be, “Holy crap, [insert band name] was on their label, too?”

The lineup reads like a Who’s Who of hipster luminaries and even a few mainstream crossover stars:  Modest Mouse, Elliott Smith, The Black Keys, Iron & Wine, The Melvins, Les Savy Fav, The Unicorns, Six Parts Seven, Of Montreal, Black Mountain, Hella, etc.  The first disc features a mostly chronological spin through the Suicide Squeeze back catalog, starting with their very first single, 764-Hero’s “Now You’re Swimming,” an example of the proudly shambling sort of punk-informed indie rock that dominated those heady early days.  Right alongside Modest Mouse (“A Life of Arctic Sounds”) and Elliott Smith (“Division Day”) are potentially forgotten tunesmiths like The Scenic Vermont and Pennsy’s Electric Workhorses Songs.

Constantines, Melvins and Les Savy Fav fans get a chance to grab previously out of print material; Les Savy Fav’s “We’ll Make a Lover of You” is an especially snappy, fashionable rocker that sounds like a hit that could have been.  And kudos to the assembly team for thinking, “How should we follow this gentle Iron & Wine song?  I’ve got it—The Melvins!”

The second disc rolls out some rarer cuts, including previously unreleased demos from The Aislers Set and Crystal Skulls, along with new tracks from Russian Circles, These Arms Are Snakes, and Hella; the latter triumvirate giving the indication that even though Suicide Squeeze is getting up there in label years, it doesn’t have any interest in turning down the volume.  Of Montreal chimes in with a typically quirky, irresistibly poppy piece (“Voltaic Crusher/Undrum to Muted Da,” formerly out of print).  This eclecticism is a great tribute to the label, which seems to consistently conduct its A&R like enthusiastic fans rather than protective scenesters. 

This reviewer’s favorite active Suicide Squeeze artist—perhaps favorite, period—is S, which functions as the solo outlet for Jenn Ghetto, formerly of Carissa’s Wierd.  Her “5 Dollars” is brief, pained and beautiful.  The abrupt conclusion to this tale of unrequited love seems to take even the guy manning the boards off guard.  “Do you want to keep going?” he asks.  “Oh, that’s the end,” she replies, “It just ends like that.”  So it does.