Just this afternoon when I was working through a project, I slipped Alice in Chains’ “Dirt” onto the turntable and suddenly felt like I was transported to my freshman year of college when that thing was released. I have a strange relationship with the era of music because it also soundtracked some pretty bad times, so I’ve spent a lot of years rebuilding my relationship with that stretch of life.

One gateway back to the past was Thou’s “Rhea Sylvia” album that celebrated the sounds of the 1990s that helped shape their tastes. Now, several years removed, Thou’s Mitch Wells is unleashing his new Big Garden project and its excellent debut record “To the Rind.” It builds on the sounds of the aforementioned “Sylvia” but expands into lusher and even poppier sounds, all while maintaining a dingy edge. Joining him are fellow Thou mate vocalist/guitarist Matthew Thudium who also sang on that “Sylvia album; guitarist/vocalist Craig Ourbre; bassist/synth player Greg Manson; and drummer/percussionist Ian Paine-Jesam—that runs along some of the same terrain trampled by Nirvana, Hum, Stone Temple Pilots, Smashing Pumpkins and so many more. The theme of change and starting over also is in the forefront, and it’s just a goddamn pleasing, catchy, passionate album that also takes me back to my days of being a commuter college student with no friends and only music to get me to a comfort zone.

“A Sliced Up Pear” knifes right in, the power jolting, Thudium’s singing glazing with grungy smoothness. The playing is fuzzed up and catchy, sometimes things are tastefully washed out, and the track bursts with power at the end before fading. “My Joy / Little Bliss” is crunchy and dirty, the moody jolting sweltering, a strong chorus whipping past, keeping the adrenaline nicely paced. The playing gets agitated later, sending electric pulses, spinning into menace, smashing out at the tail end. “Skit 1” is just Wells talking to someone, trying to map out what these skits are going to be. Essentially, it’s an album-long running joke, and if you’ve seen any of Wells’ antics on social media, you won’t be surprised one bit. “Borrowing, Taking” has a Smashing Pumpkins sheen to it, the guitars bringing strange energy, deeper singing cutting to the bone. The track is as catchy and vibrant as it is dark and tumultuous, making it feel like a haunting force. “Memory of the Mountain” slips in and numbs your nerve endings before the power bursts, the singing feeling like a cooling agent. The pace keeps you on alert, the singing glazing, the final moments pushing warm breezes. “Pizza Party Baby” brings speedier riffs, an explosive pulse, and scalding singing, with Thudium calling, “Everything else goes away.” Things gets abrasive and jostling, bringing echoes and power, swinging out into oblivion. “Skit 2” is more discussion about the skits, where to put them, how to do them. It’s a process.

“Crown Shyness” is a shorter one, coming in burly with howled vocals, charring heat, and a blistering, fiery gust, taking you by the throat and shaking the shit out of you. “Wedding of the Sentry” eases in, though the punches aren’t far behind, and then the singing sweeps as things get crunchier. Melodies glimmer as the playing stretches, bringing enough gusto to stick in your teeth. “I’m Scared of the Ocean” is … well, the title might as well be a personal motto. Fuck that place. Anyway, it’s solemn as it begins with softer singing, keys tricking, and everything feeling like you’re looking through blurry morning eyes. Later, things punch up a bit, deeper singing reaches into your guts, and everything blares, ending in a pool of lava. “Skit 3,” Wells is trying to figure out a way to make these skits happen. Maybe they should write something. Mental light bulbs activate. “Stars, Planets, Dust, Us” opens darker with the bass driving, atmosphere injected, the tones feeling dreamier. The force spits bolts, the singing eases, and then the playing is trudgy and muddier, floating and slowly fading. “Tension Loop” starts with one of the guys saying, “This is where daddy has to get all Rob Halfordy,” but we’re not talking pierced eardrums here. The singing definitely is pushier and higher, gushing and stretching, making it feel like three decades ago and I have a fucking final in the morning. Things ramp up even more at the end, letting colors fly, melting out into a coating mist. We end the only way we truly can, with “Skit 4” where Wells decides fuck it, we’ll do skits next record.

Big Garden’s debut is a total joy in which to indulge, a record that feels like it came together years before its members even could have conceived of such a thing. But “To the Rind” isn’t a misguided tribute to ’90s rock, when the alternative tag still made sense, and instead is an earnest, well-traveled journey through sounds that lit up Wells’ heart. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed every visit I’d had with this record as it has sparked some nostalgia with me and also helped me embrace a troubled period in my own life where things ended up turning out OK.

For more on the band, go here: https://www.instagram.com/big_gardennnn/

To buy the album, go here: https://gileadmedia.net/products/big-garden-to-the-rind-lp

For more on the label, go here: https://gileadmedia.net/