4 out of 5

Label: Geffen

Produced by: Marc Waterman

Blissfully unaware of any Suede lineage, or Blur intermingling, or your-song-sounds-like-our-song lawsuits, teen me just knew that Connection was a catchy as hell track, and something about the band fed into the whole Alternative-edgy thing we 90s boys loved, and so Elastica’s debut album became one of my first CD purchases, and picked up many a scratch as it went from carrying book to book, toted from car to school and back and forth.  Now, even then I could’ve told you what I feel now: that there are bits of the album – those that nibble at the new wave teat too much – that don’t quite work, and rather bog down the middle, but quite before the rip-roaring conclusion of Vaseline things kick back into high gear.  What I don’t think I’ve could’ve told you, and what I’m surprised to hear now, is how sexual the album is.  Odd that my undoubtedly hormone-enraged self didn’t tune in to all the sex references, but they’re there, and I wonder to what I ended up attributing my take of these songs…

As, perhaps, an unconscious acknowledgement of this, though, I don’t recall feeling attached to Elastica much beyond the hook.  And that’s a criticism I would level at the album now: that’s it’s pretty bubble-headed, distorted-up pop without much meaning behind it.  But you look at that cover, of four disenchanted, black-clad, probably-gum-chewing malcontents, and that’s totally part of the vibe: tossed off, know-nothing songs about whatever comes to mind.  (Right: sex.)  Which is why those tracks that are especially hook-centric – admittedly most of them – work, and still work so well, because that’s what they are wholly about.

Reading the glowing allmusic review, I feel like there’s some rose-tinting going on there; the same kind of “genius!” taggery that led to Oasis vs. Blur battles, not coincidentally the same scene from which Elastica sprang.  But the primary idea that ‘Elastica’ is just a pretty fucking good pop rock album is spot on, and it’s the kind of indelible “good” that has lasted over a decade of listens.  It’s certainly not perfect, and the empty-headedness of its conception limits its impact when stretched out to 40 minutes, but that certainly won’t stop you from bobbing your head or tapping your toe or doing some kind of 90s groove thing when ‘Stutter’ starts to play.