Earth Junk

This is a much more laid-back collection of strangely alien desert music written in Hagerty's adopted home state of New Mexico and recorded in Texas. [Oct 2008, p.92]

Earth Junk doesn’t sound like anything else in his discography. However, it does betray Hagerty’s encyclopedic knowledge of rock history, which yields some respectful iconic nods and a few bizarre what-ifs.

Rather than strive for the idiocy of Pussy Galore, the grunt of Royal Trux or the swagger of Weird War, Hagerty is now content to occupy an entirely different ground. This alone ought to be enough to pique interest from followers of Hagerty’s career but despite, or perhaps because of, this there’s little on Earth Junk that will draw interest from new fans.

Hagerty's chords radiate like heat from hot concrete, forging shapes from the nothingness, like an audio mirage. So it goes for most of the album's 33 minutes.

It’s noisy, it’s incoherent at times, but above all it’s a joyous record that's totally Neil Hagerty: inaccessibly accessible.

Earth Junk won't top any end of the year polls, but as another clue in decoding exactly where Hagerty is heading, a scrap with which to re-assemble a much bigger picture, it's essential. [Sep 2008, p. 51]

Hagerty’s Howling Hex, which plows the radically different but equally worked-over field of nerd-rock whimsy on Earth Junk, starts promisingly, with a spooky clutter of hooting keyboards and echo-soaked vocals.

Earth Junk’s parts are greater than their sum.

At just over 33 minutes, Earth Junk is a short recording, but even at that length, the limited sonic range and repetitive tricks are ultimately draining.