Reviews

Kerrang! Single Of The Week

Mexican Pets
Supermarket
(Blunt)
KKKK

No brainless remixes, no 'live' throw-aways and definitely no radio f**king edits, just three multi-hued, gorgeously textured slabs of inventive '90s rock. This young Dublin quartet on Therapy? man Andy Cairns' label hint at the sonic explorations of Dinosaur Jr., Sonic Youth and My Bloody Valentine, and in turn soaring, roaring slabs of poised noise, this week's only proof that the there are no limits to the possibilities of the old six string.

RTÉ Guide - "Humbucker" review

The Mexican Pets
Humbucker
blunt

The first album proper from Dublin's Mexican Pets rises above the normal suggestible runts of indie rock by dint of Pat Clafferty's wracked and emotive vocals and the sparks of ingenuity that flicker under the bands no nonsense approach to guitar turbulence.

Clafferty's lyrics remain opaque, sometimes beseeching, sometimes angry but never dull - Machu Picchu is a highly melodic slowie, with his vocals at their tense best, and No Distance sounds metronomic but swivels with the clipped simplicity of prime power pop. An exciting barrage altogether.

* * *

Record reviews

  • Hot Press gave the Humbucker album: 10/12
  • Kerrang! gave "The Voice Of...": 3/5 on August 3 1996.

Gig Reviews

Pavement

     After a swift venue change (The Mean Fiddler has gone into receivership) it was up to the Red Box aka upstairs in the Pod. I hadn't been before but its much bigger (surprisingly) that the Mean Fiddler and probably has more in common with the Tivoli.

     Mexican Pets were the support act and illustrated once again why there hasn't been a successful Dublin band since U2. Doesn't anybody in Dublin know how to mix sound? All trashy guitars and incomprehensible vocals never mind tuneless!). All successful bands have learned the secret of making each instrument distinctive and audible.

     They could learn a few lessons from Pavement. Bounding on stage to rapturous applause, they settled in straight away. No sign of nerves here. This band write great songs and each person in the band has a unique contribution. They have plenty of adoring indie fans in Dublin. Its easy to see however why they're as big as they are and not as big as some of their contemporaries.

     They have indie-credibility in abundance. The practiced moodiness of the lead singer. Shoe gazing by all but the 'screaming utility man and part-time keyboard player'.

     Ultimately their downfall lies in an inability to understand why they are on a stage. This band want to make great music. This band are musicians. This band are song writers. This band are not here to entertain. A gig is an extended band rehearsal where the band have fun amongst themselves and if people want to pay to watch... Hey that's okay.

     The lead singer had his mic turned towards the side all night. How do you communicate with somebody if you don't look them in the eye. When the other guitarist got his chance to sing he noticed the fabulous indie-runners on his shoes and couldn't take his eyes off them.

     They also have an annoying habit of playing to themselves between songs. You can get the feeling that you're intruding on their space and they're only obliging you by playing songs. (The Ed disagrees here, Steve Malkus did ask the crowd for requests and played "Unfair" despite objections from Spiral Stairs)

     Still they did say `Fuck French Rugby' at one point so their heart is in the right place. They mean what they say but they ain't no Bowie.

Tony Corrigan

- Mexican Pets -

Venue: Whelan's
Date: December 2nd 1996

I had just glanced at Sic, the support band tonight, when the played a few days ago with Revelino and the Ultra Montanes. Too loud and heavy this even-handed correspondent thought before repairing to the bar with alacrity. More like a too hastily reached conclusion. Sic are purveyors of fast, melodic hardcore. I won't use the word p**k since that label carries so much baggage in these holier than thou times in the independent music sector. They remind me of Minor Threat/Fugazi - the tightness of their playing, the singer/guitarist straining for that extra level of urgency a la Ian McKaye. When the bassist chimes in on some harmonies it could be Bob Mould and Grant Hart venting their frustration at unfulfilled hopes. I had forgotten how visceral this music is, it bypasses the ears and hits you straight in the chest.

The Mexican Pets kick off with Stigmata Errata and Subside. Best to gets the 'hits' out of the way early. I often think that Pat Clafferty is a much underrated lyricist. There's a semi-surreal ness about his songs yet they remain very personal, an obtuseness that succeeds where more literal approaches fail. "You must not be listening/There's still toilet slogans/But I can't here the accent/As there's no difference/And what kind of soap then/Cleans a guilty conscience". This is far superior to (say) Zombie or Belfast Child.

Musically the 'Pets have only mode. Fortunately that involves taking you to the stratosphere and keeping you there, those guitars sound like we're cruising above the clouds at 20,000 feet with the sun shining down on us. (Difficult image to conjure up on a cold, wet, typically Dublin Monday evening.) There's something about Clafferty's voice, a freshness/honesty/poignancy that can't but transport you, that snatches at your heart.

We get a mixture of old songs and new material from their forthcoming album, Humbucker (due out in early Spring), interspersed with banter and jokes from the band. Pat Clafferty is the natural heir to A House's Dave Couse in the stand-up musician stakes. The new stuff blends easily with the familiar which depending on your point of view isn't much progress or, if you're happy with the 'Pets oeuvre, is quite fine indeed. During the last song there's a great moment which sums up the Mexican Pets. The singer is on his haunches, a loosened guitar strap having lowered him. Brian Gough - the other guitarist stands with his feet apart. He's staring thru the glass roof of Whelan's and making beautiful 6 string noises (stargazing as opposed to shoegazing), he could be just bored with the whole evening.
Or he could be talking with the gods?
Life's ambiguous.

Eamonn Maher [emaher@baltimore.ie]

Set list for The Mean Fiddler gig on April 25 1997

  • Stigmata Errata
  • Sunnyday
  • A Hill Of Beans
  • Machu Picchu
  • No Distance
  • Supermarket
  • If Only Never
  • Subside
  • Where's My Pony?
  • ---
  • Used Gettin' Used
  • How To Have More Fun

I was at this gig in The Mean Fiddler on Wexford St. in Dublin and before the band went on stage I met lead singer Pat Clafferty and he signed my ticket for me. There were approximately 400 people at the gig and I really enjoyed it.

The band's sound had improved from the last time I heard in December 1995. They are very tight when they play live and their performance sounds similar to their releases because they use no overdubs in the recording process.

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