Among numerous shifts in personnel, Jamie Stewart is the founding and constant member of Xiu Xiu since the outfit’s formation in 2002, but for their last pair of albums, the core lineup has solidified into Stewart, Angela Seo, and David Kendrick. It’s this trio that shapes, with various additional contributors, the dozen cover songs heard on new album Xiu Mutha Fuckin’ Xiu: Vol. 1, which releases January 16 on vinyl in various color configurations, compact disc, and cassette through Polyvinyl. Collecting a project that began in 2020, the finished works are adventurous yet cohesive.
Covers albums from a single act, when corralling material from assorted sources rather than pinpointing one artist or band (as Stewart did with Nina, their 2013 tribute to Nina Simone) or focusing on a theme (such as the 2016 Record Store Day release Xiu Xiu Plays the Music of Twin Peaks) are most often hit and miss affairs. Occasionally, a set of covers that’s dedicated to various artists can be consistently bland, and less frequently, an utterly disastrous, embarrassing affair.
There’s likely something about stylistic source range that allows for peaks and valleys of inspiration. A collection of micro tributes is also possibly less burdensome when compared to a large-scale single artist salute. But even so, a covers album from a single act that’s focused on material from diverse sources that ultimately shapes up as steadily superb is as rare as, indeed rarer than, the unmitigated catastrophes.
Xiu Mutha Fuckin’ Xiu: Vol. 1 gets in the ballpark of being consistently excellent, perhaps in part because the songs were released individually and then collected as an album after completion and satisfaction rather than conceived as a single release from inside a short timeframe. There are also some thematic realities to consider, including a pocket of songs that fit into an electronic/industrial framework.
There’s a less rigid but still chillily, eerily robotic version of “Warm Leatherette” by The Normal (and don’t forget Grace Jones), its abrasive outbursts fitting in nicely with a take of “Hamburger Lady” by Throbbing Gristle that sidesteps industrial ominousness by intensifying the experimentation. Its effect is still quite unsettling.
Rubbing style shoulders is “Sex Dwarf,” which wrangles Soft Cell’s subversive Burroughsian synth-pop into a techno banger worthy of a Gaspar Noé nightmare scenario. And then deep into side two, there’s a version of “Triple Sun” by Coil that thrives inside a moody, melancholy atmosphere. It conjures up mild but satisfying similarities to Anohni.
Xiu Xiu’s unified sound draws these complementary selections into an interconnected whole, and straightaway with the echoey, thudding but sweetly recognizable “Psycho Killer” from Talking Heads. Adhering less to the original structure, and smartly so, is a version of “I Put a Spell on You” that still gets to something contemporarily comparable to the mania of the great Screamin’ Jay.
A version of “In Dreams” recalls the operatic brilliance of Roy Orbison, but still sounds like it was recorded in a makeshift studio built in the back of Josie Packard’s sawmill. A version of “Dancing on My Own” by Robyn is marvelously mopey modern techno-pop that’s immediately followed by the electronic relentlessness of “SPQR” by This Heat, and then right after that is the glistening and increasingly (and gradually) hectic “Lick or Sum,” originally by GloRilla.
Following that sort of crunk-spastic mania with a version of “Some Things Last a Long Time” by Daniel Johnston might seem a jarring maneuver. But through savvy audaciousness and clear adoration of the original song, the transition unwinds just fine. Closer “Cherry Bomb” slams the Runaways song into Suicide by way of Chrome, ? & the Mysterians, and Warp Records, then drenches the whole in kerosene and sets that beautiful shit ablaze.
For Xiu Mutha Fuckin’ Xiu: Vol. 1 Xiu Xiu has enlisted such estimable guests as saxophonists Tim Berne and Tony Malaby, guitarist Mary Halvorson, and longtime collaborator, drummer Ches Smith. They add much to a sharp and intense whole. To borrow contemporary phraseology, the album goes hard. Just as importantly, from top to bottom, the LP was obviously a labor of love.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A-
