This latest release from the highly reputable Fat Cat label sees Nine Black Alps’ bassist Martin Cohen stepping into the limelight, although somewhat half heartedly. With his main band on what can only be politely described as ‘indefinite hiatus’, Cohen appears to relish in the creative freedom of being in complete control of song writing duties. MILK MAID'S debut album was recorded entirely in his flat and the warmth of the fuzzy lo-fi production always ensures the record feels like a direct address from song writer to listener.
Not that we’re getting the usual confessional songs one might expect from a band member leaping out of the shadows finally ready to show the world what they can offer. Cohen instead presents us with sixties girl group melodies and batters them with a Jesus and Mary Chain haze. His sun drenched pop hooks often disguise chilling lyrics such as in opener Such Fun which can have you humming along before you realise Cohen is singing about “a man who’ll cut your throat out for a buck or two”. Dead Wrong has a melody and a jaunty shuffle as sweet as a lot of Buddy Holly’s work that has you missing harrowing lines like “you’re stabbing yourself in the gut”.
The fact that you miss these instances of darkness is probably Yucca’s only failing. The two examples cited finally revealed themselves after listening to the record on and off for over a week. Certain phrases are impossible to ignore like Dead Wrongs’ pithy “I heard wrong that you gave a fuck” but generally the lyrics are muffled and distorted through the raw recording techniques. While the production is wonderfully realised in creating an intimate environment that highlights Cohen’s undeniable gift of melody by stripping away any unnecessary polish, his apparent shyness in putting forward what any of his songs are actually about makes Yucca a difficult album to fall in love with. And I usually swoon at this sort of thing.
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The chord changes and gorgeous tunes are all in place, as is the snotty punk attitude, but the album feels in limbo: inviting you in before slamming the door in your face. If you like beautiful melodies with arrogant grit I’d reinvestigate a little known band called The Ramones. If you fancy a more contemporary example Best Coast have got this laissez faire stoney attitude absolutely nailed at the moment and carry it off with bags of charm, something which is unfortunately lacking in Milk Maid. Yucca is a good album but there is nothing that makes it essential.
Cohen is undoubtedly a great pop craftsman; however in his new release the choices of production appear to be a case of cutting off your nose to spite your face. Or as the man puts it himself: “you’re killing yourself to cut your arms off”.
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