Stef Chura – Messes
Messes on the whole is similarly split in terms of quality; even so, there’s more than enough pep here to stoke anticipation for whatever Chura does next
As Stef Chura demonstrates on her newly-reissued debut record, a scuzzy guitar tone and a passionate wail can communicate certain hues of discontent better than almost any combination of notes or lyrics, the cathartic crunch of feedback a sure-fire method of expressing exactly how over it you are.
Which is to say that Messes is the kind of album you feel rather than interpret, where what’s being said is less important than how it’s delivered. And when it comes to vocals, Chura’s delivery is certainly distinctive. "Time" in her throat becomes “tai-yuum”, while “down” morphs into “dohn” – the syllables warp and elongate to form cracked sighs or slurred yelps that communicate a palpable restlessness and dissatisfaction, each line like the sung equivalent of a tapped foot and curled lip. At her best, Chura evokes Angel Olsen’s soulful twang crossed with Corin Tucker’s bark, though she’s also guilty of occasionally laying it on a bit too thick, verging upon the kind of overblown affectations best left in the grunge era.
The album on the whole is similarly split in terms of quality. Jerky garage rocker Slow Motion boasts a riff that every teenage guitar band dreams of writing while Spotted Gold, which thrashes around a familiar chord changem (albiet with winning enthusiasm) for two minutes, sounds closer to what they’d actually come up with. Even so, there’s more than enough pep here to stoke anticipation for whatever Chura does next.
Listen to: Slow Motion, Human Being