The Californian group make a stop in Toronto to get weird
Walking into Toronto’s Danforth Music Hall is magical regardless of which artist is performing, with the former theatre constantly exuding old-timer charm and character. However, the softly-lit space felt especially enchanting as the energetic crowd and I stood and waited for Ty Segall and the Muggers to come on stage.
Hailing from Laguna Beach, California, and eventually making San Francisco his musical breeding ground, both the music he makes and Mr. Segall himself are explosive whirlwinds of a good time. In keeping with the unique sound of surf/garage/psychedelic rock that was born and bred in the Golden State, Segall’s music is kinetic, unusual, and captivating. His latest album, Emotional Mugger, crafted and executed with the help of his accompanying band The Muggers, is a testament to this claim.
In order to fully appreciate Emotional Mugger, and Ty Segall in general, you’ll need to get comfortable with the fundamental principle on which both his existence and his music rely: he is the weirdest person on the planet. Not the mild kind of weird that your parents would smile at and call “quirky,” or the kind of weird that would’ve forced your high school teachers to describe you as “unique” on your report card. Ty Segall is next level, extraterrestrial strange—and his music follows suit. Before Emotional Mugger came out, the artists set up a website for the album with an odd, Jim Jarmusch-esque clip explaining what “emotional mugging” is (be warned, it’s super bizarre) and an accompanying 1-800 number with a spookily soothing recording of Segall’s voice.
The album itself was largely enjoyed by Ty Segall and the Muggers’ fan base, which has grown significantly over the last few years. Despite gaining popularity, the artists still lived up to expectations from long-time fans, delivering a deliciously weird, yet still aesthetically pleasing, musical experience. Their performance of Emotional Mugger at the Music Hall was equally satisfying, with the artists and the audience feeding off of each other’s energy in a way that induced high amounts of crowd-surfing, mics being thrown into the audience, fans kissing Ty and a fake placenta (at least I think it was fake, you never know with these boys) being whirled around on stage by a man-sized baby.
As I bopped about, occasionally feeling a ripple-effect from the relatively mild mosh pit that ruled the centre of the audience for the entirety of the show, I took a quick glance at the crowd, and realized that I had never been to a show that drew in such a diverse group of people. The audience did not have a visible homogenous style, as many shows often do, and there was a wide range in ages which I’ve found is also uncommon at music events. This all goes to show that the freakiness of Ty Segall and the Muggers appeals to music-lovers regardless of their typical taste in music, country, or age.
If you’re intrigued by—and maybe mildly concerned for—Ty Segall and his band of mischief-makers, give Emotional Muggers a listen. Their music is certainly a rabbit hole worth jumping down.