For starters, they named themselves The Coathangers. In a musical climate where women often have to be gorgeous, political, or virtuosic to gain critical favor, The Coathangers are a Molotov Cocktail laced with broken glass. The album’s songs are funny and compelling, as Segall reveals that underneath all that noise is a real talent for songwriting, documenting the spontaneous combustion of a self-obessed performer’s head. So Segall transforms this formerly idyllic picture of a beachfront existence by slashing with distorted guitar riffs. After all, the comfortable home is conceptual arsenic for the garage rocker. Segall bemoans the start of a new week, mocks the drones who are attracted to the stereotypical California life and kind of gets (and hates) the reason his girlfriend wants to buy a new couch. ![]() ![]() The album is a showcase for a new character, a former wild man who’s been forced to settle down, cool it a little bit, maybe get a haircut for his job interview next week. ![]() ![]() So Goodbye Bread goes, a document of quiet desperation set on the West Coast and scorched by sun. The sun rises slowly and when it hits Ty Segall’s window, he imitates its motion and before he gets out of bed, he stretches and unleashes a reluctant greeting to the day and the week and kisses freedom (and bread) goodbye.
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