Ty Segall give’s Portland an awkward, engaging and thoroughly entertaining acoustic performance
By Dogdale
Weeks after Ty Segall thrashed around the Revolution Hall with collaboration partner White Fence and a full band, he returned to Portland with just a guitar.
Segall’s solo acoustic set was at times beautiful as he crooned loudly into the mic. The stripped-down format played especially well on original songs such as Sleeper and Queen Lullabye as his hallow vocals filled the Aladdin Theater.
On others, such as the Dils’ Class War, a cover on Segall’s newly released “Fudge Sandwich,” Segall’s voluble chanting put an odd spotlight on the lack of lyrical creativity by the original songwriters.
But Segall seemed to be in on the joke, which at times felt like an SNL skit about a bad open mic night. The jest was most apparent when Segall broke out laughing while gruffly howling Gimmie Some Money from the movie “Spinal Tap.”
Whatever genre he was adapting, and whoever’s song he was singing, Segall was a showman. He trashed around, keeping the sedentary patrons glued to him. He shook his blonde hair — cut into a sort of long bob — wildly, prompting an audience member to shout his admiration for the ‘do during a break between songs.
“Thanks. I told them to chop it all one length,” Segall said with a laugh, showing everyone who wasn’t somehow already aware that he is quite comfortable in his own skin.
His energy was as eclectic as his catalog, bouncing from soft and heart-felt to grungy to silly, though the show was wildly different than his performance with White Fence, which coaxed from the crowd a rowdy mosh pit and stage-diving.
The Laguna Beach, Calif. native is nothing if not prolific, somehow finding time to frequently tour while seemingly never ceasing to record. In 2018 alone, he has released five full-length albums through his solo and side projects.
It’s all different: “Fudge Sandwich” is a collection of odd covers; “Orange Rainbow” is a 30-minute, 13-track instrumental released only on 55 cassette tapes; “Freedom Goblin” is Segall’s most produced sound yet; “Joy” — his second project with White Fence — perhaps brings out the best in Segall with its psychedelic wanderings; and The Goggs’ “Pre Strike Sweep” is grungy, feedback-filled punk set to Segall’s pounding of the drums.
They’re very different but all good, like Segall’s performances. As my friend put it after the show, “He could come back next month for an electric piano set and I’d still pay $25.”