Reviews \

Ty Segall, ‘Goodbye Bread’ (Drag City)

Brian Raftery // June 28, 2011

After several albums of caustic, cryptic scuzz-punk, San Francisco’s Ty Segall finally cleans up his act — or, at the very least, dustbusts it around the edges. His glassine vocals, once buried, now float high and ghostlike; and the quick shivs of guitar sound fat and happy. But even on an album pockmarked with hooks, Segall keeps it weird, turning a straightforward love song into a creepy come-on (“You Make the Sun Fry”); and on “The Floor,” he throws a jaunty fiddle breakdown atop a tale of night-sweat dread.