Is it a marketing scam? Not really. Is it an "in between" project,
designed to buy time? Sort of. People will have mixed opinions
about this release.
One of the main reasons the singles were released in the first
place was to address the British market: the notion of singles
as marketing tools is more important in the UK than it is in America.
Fortunately, there was enough material recorded during the sessions
that we were able to release several singles, both in the UK and
the US.
The sales of the singles in the US kept increasing with each release,
to the point where they were selling out very quickly. Many of
these songs were staples of the most recent SUGAR tours, and fans
have been wondering where to find them. Now I guess they can.
To me, the most interesting aspect of this release is how differently
the previous full-length releases would have sounded had these
tracks been part of them. The best examples are the FU:EL tracks. If the last five songs of FU:EL had been replaced by the five non-LP tracks on this disc, it
might have been more reminiscent of Copper Blue At the time, I felt it important to expand the notion of what
SUGAR was all about; hence, the more acoustic approach which compiled
the bulk of "Side 2" of FU:EL.
It's been fun recompiling these tracks, hearing the original versions
compared to the live renditions. Sometimes, during the compiling,
it mde me wonder why certain songs weren't on the albums--especially
"Needle Hits E," In The Eyes Of My Friends" and "Mind Is An Island."
Good stuff. Anyhow, enjoy.
Initialed - BM
First thing you notice about SUGAR in concert is the look and
I don't mean their fashion sense. It's a look that says "Your
wake call has arrived." SUGAR do not take requests. SUGAR do not
banter with their audience. SUGAR are not cute. Bob Mould, Dave
Barbe, and Malcolm Travis are a glowering juggernaut, and for
the next 90 minutes or so, they will be the best rock band in
the world.
Travis is crunched over his hi-hat laying down beats with pitiless
precision. Barbe is jumping out of his skin wrestling with his
bass, while blowing his veins in his neck singing harmonies over
the din. And Mould tries to reconcile the eloquence and clarity
of his lyrics with the distorted, blinding chaos of his guitar-playing.
Melodies are swallowed up in noise, tunefulness extracted from
feedback, beauty torn from violence. The music seems to consume
the band as they perform it, each precious note extracted a toll
until all that is left is glassy-eyed exhaustion.
GREG KOT (CHICAGO TRIBUNE)...from the liner notes... |
