or, a Defense of Eight Arms to Hold You

At the time, it seemed like a horrible idea, especially to a kid who’d just discovered Veruca Salt’s first album, American Thighs, a couple of months earlier. The dynamic duo of Gordon and Post were storming back with a second album—but recorded in Hawaii (?) with uber-producer Bob Rock at the helm. This was not exactly an ideal setup for sophomore success, so my fifteen-year-old brain thought at the time.

Bob Rock’s previous credits include Metallica, AC/DC and Motley Crue, all bands far removed from Veruca Salt’s origins as a female-fronted diamond-in-the-rough grunge-pop band. What unholy terrors could the man have unleashed? But in retrospect, maybe the move wasn’t so bizarre—Veruca Salt had found itself teetering back and forth between indie stardom and all-out major label success before. American Thighs spent about 10 days as part of of the catalog of pseudo-indie record label Caroline before Geffen snapped up the rights to the album and signed a new contract with the band. Perhaps in a bid to reclaim some street cred, Veruca Salt asked Steve Albini to perform his magic on the between-albums EP Blow It Out Your Ass, It’s Veruca Salt. The result was harder, faster, stronger—basically the old Veruca Salt with the volume knob turned to 11 and most of the poppier flourishes left on the cutting room floor (so basically an Albini record, then). But of course, as an EP, Blow It Out Your Ass would never serve as anything more than an evolutionary footnote for the band no matter what direction they chose; apparently they decided Metallica was more to their tastes than PJ Harvey.

So we have 1997’s Eight Arms to Hold You, an even heavier-sounding album that retains the ponderous pace of heavy metal without the earthquake-inducing power chords. Instead there’s a sort of cheerful hard rock chug through most of the album that, in hindsight, wasn’t as much of a departure as I originally thought listening to it. But make no mistake: there’s no “Spiderman ‘79″ or “Celebrate You” or “Fly” on this album. Without much variety in tempo or attitude, Eight Arms to Hold You is left largely to stand on the merits of its individual songs, which means on first glance the album was largely a failure.

But with the passage of time comes perspective, and Eight Arms to Hold You reaps a lot of benefits as a result. For one, we know what comes afterwards: Nina Gordon leaves the band, Resolver turns into a big mess, and Veruca Salt becomes something of a non-entity. Meanwhile Gordon embarks on a new solo career as a Paula Cole impersonator, and ends up being best known for a cover of NWA’s “Straight Outta Compton.” Imagine if Tori Amos’ catalog was so poor that she was best known for her cover of “Smells Like Teen Spirit.” So in that light, Eight Arms to Hold You doesn’t look bad at all.

Along the same lines, the music industry as a whole and alternative rock in particular evolved towards a harder sound as well. What once sounded like stylistic excesses now pale in comparison to the likes of Limp Bizkit, Nickelback and Puddle of Mudd, and the innate pop character of some of the songs shines through brighter as a result. Take “Awesome,” a song that’s bounced around in my head for the past decade—no mean feat, that. Behind the chugging hard rock guitars and the glossy production lies a song that begs you to sing along. The vague resemblance to parts of “Victrola” from American Thighs doesn’t hurt, either.

Maybe “Awesome” and Eight Arms to Hold You are representative of a turning point in my own personal music history, just before alt-rock radio went to shit and I discovered the likes of Sleater-Kinney and Stereolab. Sure, I suppose my appreciation is all nostalgia at this point, but everyone’s got to have their guilty affections, right?