One of the best things you can say about Twins – and I mean this totally seriously – is that I’m not tired of Ty Segall yet. It’s what seems like his umpteenth album in the last year (four is the real number) and especially the past six months he’s been on a positively Lil B like pace. That damn Bay Area really breeds productivity apparently. Doubtlessly what other reviewers will make note of is that unlike Fences, Goodbye Bread, and the vicious Slaughterhouse, Twins is more or less without a firm musical identity. But I feel that, at this juncture, that was probably the perfect thing for Segall (dropping the “band” for now but… they’re obviously still there) to do.
Asking us to really dig into another release would be borderline presumptuous – not to mention creatively super difficult for him – so Twins seems to work best as something that you can just drop in and out of. It’s like a Ty Segall Pandora station pressed into wax. Any particular sound that he enjoyed but didn’t feel could be stretched to album length is presumably catalogued here, along with what are probably some B-sides from the sessions of other releases. “You’re The Doctor” for instance sounds like it could have fit nicely as a crush-a-beer-on-your-head moment for Slaughterhouse.
There’s not a million things to say about Twins other than that it’s highly consumable and plainly enjoyable, whether Segall is doing his Lennon riffs (“Thank God For The Sinners”, “The Hill”), playing the loud-quiet-loud game on the standout “Handglams”, or just being plain ol’ fuzzed out Ty on “Inside Your Heart” or closer “There Is No Tomorrow”. It’s a breather. We all needed a breather.