January 10, 2019
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Of all the American alt-rock bands from the 1990s boom period, there are few whose legacy has remained as categorically unique as Royal Trux's. It speaks volumes of the post-Nirvana era that a band as strange, experimental and lacking in commercial possibility could have landed a three-album deal with a major record label (Virgin). Much like Butthole Surfers, they are a band revered by heads but often overlooked by the masses. Their story as a long-forgotten yet greatly loved cult band looked cemented when 15 years had gone by since anyone had heard anything from them, but in 2015 they reconnected to play shows, and now release their first new music in almost two decades.
In many senses, they have picked up where they left off: fuzz-drenched guitars, skewwhiff rhythms, unpredictable twists and turns, layered vocals and an underlying infectious melodic edge that keeps them on the right side of obstreperous. There's still a ragged, care-free charm to the songs that encompasses a feeling of fun and abandon. The record also succeeds in managing to feel both produced and lo-fi; it's rough around the edges and muddy in all the rights places, yet crisp, glowing and punchy when it needs to be. When bands reform, they often struggle to reignite a spark from their formative years, but here Royal Trux sound as loose and unhinged as a new act still thrashing it out as a garage band. 


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