Review Summary: The immediately recognizable parsed style of production heard here would become a staple on all future releases from our favorite collective of musical silverware.
Spoon have, scoop for scoop, statistically received more critical love than any other act during the naughts. Spoon’s early releases featured a crunchy, distorted brand of rock and roll;
A Series of Sneaks contained an undeniable affection for the overdriver, and that album’s production suits that sort of rock.
Girls Can Tell could easily be regarded as the first modern Spoon album. The immediately recognizable parsed style of production heard here would become a staple on all future releases from our favorite collective of musical silverware.
The trademarks of a Spoon album are all here: churning, brief piano melodies, palm muted licks, mid-tempo drumming in the pocket, plucky leads, understated bass. However, the magic of
Girls Can Tell is in the thin, crisp production. Overdubs are few and far between. The layering that comes to the front of the recording is usually vocal harmonies. If the listener tries hard enough, they might hear an extra tremolo’d guitar or an additional layer of keys, but again, they’d be trying pretty hard. This minimalist composition allows the listener to believably project oneself into a small, divey club scene featuring a decade-younger Spoon. The production here is so honest and necessary, it almost feels live.
Girls Can Tell’s aesthetic is transparent; no band-aids, nowhere to hide.
Girls Can Tell was Spoon’s first commercial success and it marked the onset of their foray into a more calculated, acoustic guitar-friendly recording style. Listen closely and you can hear snippets of
Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga and other great releases embedded in here.
