Through 30 minutes over 11 tracks, Melted has Segall bouncing from being the manipulative czar that peels back the skin on “Finger.” Almost every second spent with Segall is one of shifting planes and the inability to crack down on one particular style which no doubt, works for them in a matter of placement.
“Finger” opens to be subtle at first glance, but as the electricity is introduced to the mix, Melted becomes transportation in sonic grasps. Segall covers the vocalization, guitar, percussion, bass, and even keyboards on the instrumental side and then actually handles the mixing as well which displays the modern capabilities of a renaissance man. The entire package of instrumentation on Melted seems to almost creep in with seconds becoming segueing slots for Segall to break earth upon.
The transition into “Girlfriend” which features Charlie Moonheart who is a staple of Segall’s on the percussion, the rambunctious nature is like a pressure cooker. While the lyrics on the track are not quite astonishing, the emotion behind the track cuts through like a powerhouse. Segall’s screams and howls over the two-minute instrumental are animalistic while he blurts out, “I got a girlfriend, she said she loves me. She likes to hold me, she once told me. Cause she don’t mind, nothing, nothing.”
It seems hard to nail down individual tracks on Melted as the pieces are treated like indigents to a cake that becomes baked all together. With Segall pushing into tracks like “imaginary Person” from “Sad Fuzz” or “My Sunshine,” the power sequences over like a transformer. It shocks the audience and manages to push them into this corner while Segall takes over.
When that transfer of power happens, the track “My Sunshine” comes to mind as it has Melted acting more as the predator instead of the prey similar to “Girlfriend.” Segall is sporadic and blaring but never comes off as being too aggressive and this aids in his effort of control. He is an easy to follow leader that never fully destroys, but bends the lines enough to blur between creation and desecration.
Melted is a fitting description for the record as the glaze cools and what is left seems to be more resembling a burnt collage rather than a refined piece of art. Somewhere buried in the desert heat lies a smoking vinyl that smolders under Segall’s range of sonic ability without a clear sense of coming back.