Contextually, SWERVEDRIVER'S second album 'Mezcal Head' was born into a very different musical climate than its' predecessor, 1991's debut 'Raise.'
Yes, the Oxford noiseniks (let's hold off on the 'shoegaze' tag for a bit, eh?) had begun to establish their credentials on the back of 'Raise”s relative success and had even visited the States for the first time, but two years on, the Grunge explosion was winding down and Britpop was loitering around the corner. Sure, Swervdriver's overdriven pop juggernaut hadn't yet run its' course, but it was lagging behind in the post-'In Utero' world and with their label (Creation) only months away from launching their biggest sellers of all-time (Oasis, in case you you could possibly still be wondering), Adam Franklin's boys needed to break some new ground.
Not that you'd know it from listening to 'Mezcal Head' fifteen years down the line. Because, like its' predecessor, the world it inhabits is still very much one where young men with floppy fringes stare lovingly at racks of FX pedals and mumble enthusiastically about the benefits of Fender Jaguars. Hell, this time they even dragged the High Priest of the Sonic Cathedral – producer Alan Moulder – along for the ride.
And, at least in its' earlier stages, 'Mezcal Head' is every bit as immoveable from its' familiar path of kaleidoscopic pop thrills as the majestic bull staring you down from the album cover. Although briefly fooling you with its' slow fade-in, the opening 'For Seeking Heat' soon succumbs to the expected musclebound, riffs'n'pedals logic and its' immediate successors – the looming basslines and backward guitar invective of '3 Blowin' Cool' and the power-station tumbling rumble of 'Duel' – are as predictable as they are oppressive. If anything, the only change is that the mighty 'driver have taken their seething, Sonic Yoof-ish invective to even heavier extremes.
Much more in this vein and 'Mezcal Head' would soon have written itself off. However, things begin to improve around the half way mark courtesy of 'Last Train To Satansville'. Not only does it boast an excellent title, but there's plot and dynamic working in conjunction with the band's natural urge to let loose and it signals something of a renaissance as a result. Though not quite as good, 'Harry & Maggie' proffers not only (audible!) lyrics about getting stoned at Salisbury Plain but has a tremendous cyclical riff to fall back on if boredom threatens to kick in; 'A Change Is Gonna Come' shows off gleaming, Tremolo-assisted guitars and a darkly funky rhythmic backdrop which is seriously welcome and the filmic 'Girl On A Motorbike' demonstrates a growing ability to take on real songs with real style.
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Just to confirm the good impression, the album then closes with arguably their best stab at a recognisable 'pop' song to date courtesy of the nagging, harmonies'n'all approach of 'You Find It Everywhere'. Admittedly they lose ground again when you get to the extra tracks (the interminable, sax-addled 'Never Lose That Feeling' seems to grind on for aeons), but regain the plot finally thanks to the skyscraping pop of 'The Hitcher' and the relaxed, quasi-psychedelic workout of 'Paris': a welcome balm in the vein of the first album's 'Sunset' and 'Andalucia' and the kind of thing this writer personally wishes Messrs. Franklin, Hartridge and co. would indulge in more often.
With hindsight, though 'Mezcal Head' was a consolidatory affair more than anything else and – ironically – it would be 1995 and the height of Britpop before Swervedriver would really be forced to try anything different. As with 'Raise', the thrill of the guitars still isn't quite enough to disguise the shortcomings in both Franklin's blank vocal delivery and the lack of imagination that could hobble them, yet the best bits of 'Mezcal Head' still exhilarate.
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