The Ty Segall Band - Slaughterhouse

allmusic“An album that's impossible to play quietly...” Even on the poppiest and most cheerful numbers, Segall and his bandmates recall some crazed biker gang who have come to town to feed your children bad drugs and leave them deaf...

The Line of Best Fit“How to “evolve” your sound simply by turning things up to 11. Duh...” Despite its resolute messiness, Slaughterhouse is still a smart, evolutionary step forward, the sound of Segall leaving his bedroom for the grottiest dive bar.

The Quietus“Evil space rock...” Like a head full of acid, this is a ride that's impossible to control or navigate as the twisted noise gives way to racket that fuses The Birthday Party's 'Junkyard' with the Hawkwind of Doremi Fasol Latido to perfection...

BBC“Bones-for-drumsticks, broken-beer-bottle-wielding stuff...” From scene-setting opener Death, through the Dead Moon-inspired title track, a cacophonous and grungy Tongue, and honeyed Tell Me What’s Inside Your Heart, the band is fuelled by a cocktail of reckless energy...

The A.V. Club“Highly enjoyable in terms of full-blooded rawness...” Slaughterhouse is rougher and less crafted than Bread; it sounds more like a bunch of guys bashing out some songs in the garage than a singer-songwriter dutifully buffing his music to a high gloss...

Pitchfork“Lightning-fast, bloodletting extremes...” Slaughterhouse sees them redrafting the Fun House floor plan for their own devious devices: there's that evocative title, for one, and the fact that both albums end with extended, free-form noise meltdowns...

MusicOMH“The chemistry between the group's members is nothing short of electric...” The saturation of undeniable hooks and the irresistibly raucous playing combine to make Slaughterhouse one of the most visceral and downright enjoyable records to surface so far this year...

Drowned In Sound“A tremendous excuse for Segall to make a hell of a lot of noise...” Slaughterhouse is an unashamedly bread and butter garage-rock record – a swift punch of an album which inevitably hits some artistic limitations, but succinctly delivers all the timeless qualities of in-yer-face riffage from a snotty garage band...