Crystal Fairy

The Crystal Fairy debut self-titled LP certainly feels like it was made in a flash. The eleven tracks speed by, flipping from riff to riff, track to track. In fact, the whole album has such an impulsive energy, it almost feels like it was recorded in a single, continuous take... and that’s a good thing.

It's impressive stuff, and that it feels like the work of a much more seasoned crew of bandmates suggests that they had as much fun making it as the listener will have devouring it.

Crystal Fairy plays to the strengths of the band members and doesn’t get insanely weird but nonetheless delivers on all fronts. This is just a top notch rock album, any way you slice it.

The most satisfying Melvins-related release since Nude With Boots in 2008, Crystal Fairy also makes for a fine entry-point into Teri Gender Bender's dark, gnarly and theatrical oeuvre. [Mar 2017, p.97]

Like Iommi jamming with Bonham, Melvins duo Buzz Osborne and Dale Crover lay down the uncompromising riff-rock they’ve been prolifically perfecting since the 80s. Mars Volta axeman Omar Rodriguez- Lopez is the most muted talent present, resigned as he is to bulldozing basslines, so you’ll find none of his trademark proggy noodling here, which is probably for the best. And Gender Bender? Her fierce vocal dexterity channels the spirits of Ozzy Osbourne, Robert Plant, KatieJane Garside, Donita Sparks and even Russell Mael.

Unsurprisingly, it sounds exactly like Teri Gender Bender fronting The Melvins--a fascinating concept in theory that turns out to be deliriously satisfying in practice.

It’s the Le Butcherettes vocalist’s sheer power that makes Crystal Fairy feel less like a Melvins offshoot and more like its own entity.

Coming from such a creative bunch, the straightforward character of Crystal Fairy is surprising, but the strong, pre-existing rapport between its two pairs of players helps.

Though there are near misses on Crystal Fairy (like the riffs that don’t quite reach heavy metal territory in “Secret Agent Rat” or the teeth-gritting introduction of “Under Trouble” that does more to incite annoyance than apprehension), the album succeeds far more than it falls short.

Not the most essential thing ever, but then does anyone ever NEED fried cuts of pork? No, but you’ll devour it anyway. Hence, this album.

Genderbender is a born star, charisma dripping from every syllable, while The Melvins’ trademark heaviness complements and contrasts her bohemian, dramatic delivery like sea salt in caramel. This fairy wears boots and is ready to kick ass.