The Sandwitches
Our Toast
Reviewed by: Max Miller
San Francisco garage rock is on the wane. After nearly a decade in the sun, the Bay Area scene that brought the likes of Thee Oh Sees, Ty Segall, the Fresh & Onlys and countless other fuzzed-out, fun-loving pop groups to national attention has begun to splinter and stagnate. Aside from Segall and Thee Oh Sees, who will likely compete to see who can release the most albums until the Second Coming, it’s only a matter of time before these bands fade back to the fringes or gracefully bow out altogether. The latter is the case for the Sandwitches, the trio of Heidi Alexander, Grace Cooper and Roxy Brodeur, who have released their fittingly-titled third and final album Our Toast.
The group is known for its eerie harmonies, making it apropos that opener “Sunny Side” practically quotes the Blenkhorn and Entwisle Americana classic popularized by the Carter Family. This piano-led sing-along gives way to lead single “Play It Again, Dick,” which highlights the Sandwitches’ more common approach of melancholy surf guitars twanging out ballads with a vague country feel, all overlaid with beautiful, ethereal harmonies like the ones that close out “Sleeping Practice.” One can almost picture the Sandwitches passing the proverbial torch into the waiting hands of Chastity Belt or Colleen Green.
Our Toast sometimes grows monotonous. The songs all follow a similar enough format that they tend to bleed together, which is not helped by a preponderance of spacey instrumental passages that push many tunes past the six- or even eight-minute mark. The rousing “Wickerman Mambo” appears a little too late in the game to save the whole album, and even it strays way out into jam territory. However, despite these gripes, this album serves as a reminder that the Sandwitches possessed one of the more unique sounds to emerge from the San Francisco scene. When the time comes to feel nostalgic for it, they just might be among the more dearly-missed.
Rating: Listenable
