Hugo Largo — Drum / Mettle (2024 reissues)
Qobuz reissue reviews (Sept. 2024)
So many of the previously “weird” sounds of 1980s indie have managed to become just another iteration of classic rock or the soundtrack to nightclub theme nights. But a few very special records still seem to exist not just outside of their decade’s milieu, but also seem to be transmitting messages from a still-unknown universe. Hugo Largo’s records were exactly those kind of records. Although the group was championed by Michael Stipe (who co-produced their 1987 debut mini-LP Drum) and Brian Eno (who re-released Drum on his Opal label in 1988), garnering them wide release via Warner Bros. Records, Hugo Largo’s approach had nearly nothing in common with their supposedly “alternative” major-labelmates like Jane’s Addiction and R.E.M. With a musical core composed of two bassists and an electric violinist, Hugo Largo would have been an unusual acquired taste even if vocalist Mimi Froese approached her singing like, say, Natalie Merchant, or even Kristin Hersh. Instead, she sings in a way that is truly singular and unabashedly “artsy.” Froese sometimes sounds as if she’s singing backwards (“Scream Tall”) and other times as if she’s mumbling incantations (“Eskimo Song”), but her voice is always the primary focal point of the music, with spare instrumentation providing both a framework of support and a sense of dizzying ethereality. “Second Skin” is one of the most straightforward numbers (courtesy of its driving percussive elements) but it’s also one of the most intense, thanks to its anxious dynamics and Froese’s exceptionally agitated vocal delivery. It is one of the only cuts here that seems to have a direct sonic successor, as one can imagine that Cranes listened to it a time or two before recording their first few singles. Similarly familiar-sounding — if quite a bit more gentle — is, wildly enough, a cover of the Kinks’ “Fancy,” which presents as something of an atmospheric acoustic number but is structured in a distinctive way; Hugo Largo’s version is focused less on verses, choruses, or bridges, than it is on an unfolding sense of dramatic beauty. Unsurprisingly, Hugo Largo found limited success in the late ’80s alternative/indie scene, but they did leave behind a highly individual body of work that, sadly, has been unavailable for years. This reissue of Drum is unlikely to burn up the charts, but it is long-overdue and a welcome new perspective on an era that was much more diverse and vibrant than is often remembered.
The shift in approach between Hugo Largo’s 1987 debut mini-LP Drum (co-produced by Michael Stipe and defiantly artsy in its approach) and the band’s 1989 follow-up Mettle, is instantly noticeable. The forward momentum of the opening bassline in “Turtle Song” snaps the listener to quick attention, and it is soon followed by vocalist Mimi Froese’s singing, which is both more straightforward and intelligible than it was on Drum. Does that mean that Mettle was Hugo Largo’s breakthrough/sell-out moment? Did the promotional material titled “Brian Eno Wants You To Hear Something — A Band Called Hugo Largo And A New Album Called Mettle” yield gangbuster sales? Absolutely not. There is likely no universe in which a band composed of two bassists, an electric violinist, and a vocalist as singular as Froese could be credibly accused of sacrificing their originality for the sake of chart success; the very essence of the band is defined by its other-ness. Still, Mettle is a much more direct and robust-sounding album than Drum, trading in the latter’s willful obscurantism for a more confident style that showcases the band’s strong musical chops. Produced by the band — with a separate production credit for Hugo Largo violinist Hahn Rowe, who also engineered — Mettle immediately comes across as a strong, definitive statement. “Turtle Song” is perhaps the most accessible song the band ever recorded (it was released as a single … it even had a video!), setting the stage for an album that is dynamic and exploratory. It’s also a much bigger sound with expanded instrumentation including guitars and strings, as well as a more spacious production approach. Hugo Largo is, on Mettle, just as utterly unconventional as before, but they never veer into the sort of self-conscious “whimsical” sounds of some of their “art-pop” contemporaries. The stuttering, awkward verses of “Ohio” seem naturalistic, rather than quirky, and the woozy swoon of “Martha” is hypnotic without being droney. The result is a dreamy, otherworldly sound that, while being highly individual to Hugo Largo, also invites the listener to immerse themselves in this unique soundscape.
