Superchunk: Press

Chicago Tribune '91
by Greg Cot

The finest of many stirring moments on Superchunk's pin-your-ears-back debut album occurs in the song "My Noise." Through a maelstrom of guitars, singer Mac McCaughn lets loose with a defiant assertion that seems to define not only his existence, but also that of many of his fellow musicians and listeners: "It's my life and it's my voice . . . it has no choice!" Or, as another band of pale, skinny rockers once said, "What can a poor boy do, 'cept to play in a rock 'n' roll band?" Except Mick Jagger was dripping with irony when he sang that oft-quoted line from "Street Fighting Man." One gets the opposite impression from McCaughn.

"If you're going to try to write something ironic, more likely it'll come out clever or silly," he says. "I just didn't ever attempt to write that way because I don't ever want to sound cute." As for "My Noise," McCaughn says it's essentially a paean to bassist Laura Ballance's boom box, which serves as his car "stereo." "It's not really an anthem. If anything, it's a tribute to the 'noise' coming out of the box and what a drag it is not to have one in the car," he says. "It's funny. These songs never start out as focused things." It's how they finish that makes Superchunk one addictive band. The Chapel Hill, N.C., quartet writes about mundane, everyday occurrences - a slackco-worker, a teetering relationship - and shouts about them from the rooftops. "That's the fun of it," McCaughn says. "The challenge is to take a small thing and make it into something worth talking about, even though it probably wasn't to begin with."

The quartet's self-titled debut on the New York-based Matador label is an unrepentant throwback to the passion, sincerity and flame thrower guitars of the punk era. It's a style that's timeless - itself a throwback to the garage rock of the '60s and the Sun Records rawness of the '50s - yet no longer fashionable. Superchunk couldn't care less about fashion, because they play it like they feel it. The band will headline Saturday at Czar Bar, 1814 W. Division St.