The year was 2013. I was still in high school, maybe a freshman or a sophomore. Listening to who knows what internet radio station, suddenly this artist Ty Segall popped onto the cracked screen of my beat up old iPhone. I stared at this crazy artwork of some weird looking dude, slumped as if mid-cackle, with sharp teeth, shaggy blond hair and empty black eyes. As the track began, my uninitiated virgin ear-holes were assaulted by a chaotic assault of distorted instruments, screeching vocals and heavy licks. I instantly thought to myself “what the fuck is this shit” and skipped the song. I didn’t even note the title, but the album art stuck with me because of how bizarre it was. Skip ahead to the summer of my junior year just as I had recently started getting into the garage rock scene (Together Pangea, FIDLAR, the Orwells, but more on that later), and as it would happen Ty Segall was recommended to me once again. And not just any Ty Segall—it was the same album. It was like revisiting a movie I’d seen as a child that I didn’t quite understand at the time. This time though, it clicked. I was beginning to develop my taste for Ty, but at that time I still hadn’t quite found the appreciation for what I lovingly refer to as “crunch rock” that I have today. I was mainly listening to My Sunshine and Standing by the Station, two of his most accessible tracks in my opinion, steering clear of his deeper, darker, heavier cuts. Jump forward again and I was now at a pivotal transition in my life, making the leap from high school to college, and moreover from adolescence to pre-adulthood. It was the end of my first semester as a freshman, and on a whim I decided to purchase the entire album. I was walking back from class through a small courtyard where the leaves had just begun to fall when the first track, Finger, started to play through my beat up M50xs. As soon as the chorus began, I felt Ty’s noise grab me by the throat and pull me into a surreal pocket dimension of kiloton fuzztones and erupting drum lines. Chills ran up and down my body, and to this day I still get them every time I queue up Melted. The quick transition from a soft, echoing guitar tune to an all out deafening fuzzpunk anthem completely blindsided me, and really opened up my tastes to a nastier, grimier, raw and unhindered sound.

So, just why do I like this album so much? I could go on for days. The album artwork is just the right combination of weird and creepy that establishes a twisted, demented setting. The music is loud—probably louder than it should be—but I feel that’s where most of the feel of this album comes from. The guitars are thunderously crunchy, backed by a fat bass and cacophonous drums that operate from just behind this wall of noise. Ty’s vocals drift along inside a perfect blend of delay and reverb (sometimes indistinguishable), all coming together to form a very strong and raw presence. The production isn’t amazing but it doesn’t have to be. That’s why I feel this album is so quintessentially Ty—it’s so damn loud that you will seldom hear that white noise in the background, and you’ll be having so much fun that you won’t care (at least, I don’t). But it’s not all tennitis! Melted has a softer side, too. Tracks like Bees, Caesar, and Imaginary Person offer a pleasant shift in tone from the heavier tracks like My Sunshine, Finger, Girlfriend, Mrs. and Melted that make up the meat of the album. And then there’s Sad Fuzz, Mike D’s Coke, and Alone, all of which retain that surfy crunch but still manage to stand out in their own right. The total length of the album is 30 minutes split across 11 tracks, but by no means does it feel rushed or padded for time.

Am I biased? Of course. Ty has essentially been my favorite artist since then, and I truly feel that I have him to thank for immersing me in the garage/psych/punk scene of which I feel so familiar with today. Will my favorite album ever change? Probably, but even four years later, this record is still putting a hole in my head. Am I gonna keep playing this record at max volume while my roommates unsuccessfully attempt to get my attention to turn it down? Absolutely. I encourage you to do the same, you just might fall in love with this record. Until next time, thanks for visiting my Vault of Trash.