For Your Own Special Sweetheart

The screams of a thousand chain wallet-clad indie purists could be heard across the nation once word spread of Jawbox's signing to Atlantic; no band had left the good ship Dischord for a major label prior to Jawbox, so it was seen by more closed-minded types as an unforgivable crime against D.I.Y. If they'd stuck around to hear the record that didn't bear the Dischord logo, they'd hear the band's best record, the one they had always wanted to make. And it wasn't just the label change that made For Your Own Special Sweetheart (a phrase taken from a Barbie product) a transitional record. Adam Wade left the band for art rockers Shudder to Think, and he was replaced on the traps by Zach Barocas.
Even more bristly and blaring than Novelty, Bill Barbot's and J. Robbins' guitars are about as tingly as a jump into a cactus. Their interplay reaches a zenith on Sweetheart. Imagine two Andy Gills in Gang of Four, and you'll see what they're getting at. Though not quite as jagged and dry as Gill, the guitars employ a little distortion to slightly round the edges out. Producer Ted Nicely knew just what to do with the rhythm section -- Kim Coletta's bass is more prominent, and uber-drummer Barochas' complex tom shots run rampant. (He was more likely to emulate Jack DeJohnette than Topper Headon.)
Subject matter includes JG Ballard's Concrete Insland-inspired "Motorist," leaving Robbins wrecked in an ugly part of Chicago; "Savory" examines the objectification of the female species. Otherwise, you need your Jawbox decoder ring to decipher lyrical content. Sonically, the terrain is expansive. Though "Whitney Walks" is stuck at the end of the record, it's relative quietude deserves just as much attention as anything else. Otherwise it's a manic, thrilling ride, nothing short of brilliant.