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Heather gives a relaxing head and neck massage before all haircuts. Unfortunately, not even the pleasantly relaxing effects of that can disguise the fact that opening song "Overglazed" and also "Walk It Off" say next to nothing, nice or otherwise. The pace picks up during "Bang On" (at least if her tapping foot and nodding head are anything to go by). Then, during "Night Of Joy" it is time to decide "what I want doing." This presents no problem at all for someone who has had the same hair style for at least two decades. The song puts Heather in mind of going to the beach, whereas it makes me seriously consider the possibility of getting a shaved head and joining a monastery. One with a vow of silence.
Our opinions are even more overtly divided about "Here No More." I feel it points to a dark countryesque sound that might give The Breeders a well defined and substantial direction to pursue, and that their voices have the right balance of purity and grit to carry such slightly sketched tunes. Heather remembers "Drivin' on 9" from Last Splash, but scoffs at my idea with some snipes about her grandparents' speed, a cattle drive, and the word "pardner." For a few moments I seriously consider asking for a more radical "do" than usual.
She is similarly unimpressed with the language variety of "German Studies" and "Regalame Esta Noche" and, indeed, these attempts to add breadth do seem awfully flimsy and dull. Thankfully, "Istanbul" does not draw any questions about my travel plans for the summer, we agree the vocals are redundant, but while she enjoys the evocative music, I find it trite. With the scissors close to my ears and eyes I keep my own counsel as she says she loves the lyrics "no counsel, no grand strategy, no sword to fall on" from "We're Gonna Rise." This song makes her happy and she digs the carefree, refreshing, style of expression. She also likes the chorus to "Spark" which is just as well since the line "clouds were bruised when the day broke" is relentlessly repeated. "Spark" is the most sensuous track on the album, and the slow crunching bass line and agonized vocals contrast with a slow, clean, sparse, guitar line. At last some clarity and conviction. (It probably helped, too, that the electric clippers were buzzing on the back of my neck; not as good as the massage but my next favorite part).
I have to remind Heather that cutting my fringe too short would really be a mistake, because when listening to "It's the Love" she begins a vague pogoing movement without actually leaving the ground. Thankfully she resists any punky gobbing while she's snipping away and singing along: "It's the love, love, love, love, love"…. She favors the rawness of "No Way" over the slower closing title track, during which she makes a comment that includes the word "suicidal" (though it sounds just fine during my shampooing ) and I make a mental note never to play her any late period Nico.
It's possible to argue that, for their return, The Breeders have chosen repetition and minimalism, but there's a nagging and familiar sense that they just don't have too many ideas. Recent gigs have drawn praise: obscure but revered UK critic 'Whispering' Steve Mills memorably complained that the show at Sheffield's Leadmill was so good he was late for dinner and his onion bhaji's were cold! The vocals on Mountain Battles have a refreshingly calm appeal, the guitar can sound crisp and distinctive, and yet the majority of the record is not what I would have asked for. Heather admits she won't be adding it to her collection. I go home and have a shower to take the loose hairs off my neck. Later, I think that at least The Breeders are not trying to update their style drastically, or disguise their flaws like someone might comb over thinning locks. I kind of wish my hair grew faster, not least as I do enjoy our chats. I remind myself that she is getting paid. Later I think about Roy Harper giving the kiss of life to a sheep, and listen to Richard Youngs' album "Autumn Response."
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