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Only Shallow – My Bloody Valentine

A blur with a pulse inside it

The first guitar does not announce a riff. It arrives as weather, a bright smear that seems to bend while it is still being struck, and only then do you notice a voice inside it, close and almost level, saying something tender that the distortion will not quite let you keep. Only Shallow is a love song heard through a wall of moving air. The drums are crisp, almost ordinary, which is the cruelty and the joke. Everything else refuses to sit on the grid the snare believes in.

Kevin Shields produced Loveless, released by Creation on 4 November 1991, across a run of London studios through 1990 and 1991, with Alan Moulder engineering large parts of the record. Bilinda Butcher sings the lead of Only Shallow, her tone breathy even when she is not whispering, while Shields’ glide guitar, a loose tremolo arm held in the strumming hand, does the melting. Colm Ó Cíosóig was ill for much of the sessions. His drums were sampled from a short burst of playing and then rebuilt, which is why the beat feels both human and slightly uncanny. Shields later insisted the famous fog was not a stack of a hundred guitars. The songs are simple. The damage is in the way one or two of them move.

Live, the band played at a volume that turned the chorus into a physical event. People stood still because dancing would have been a lie about what the sound was doing to the chest. Butcher’s vocal, half-buried on record, became a shape you followed rather than a lyric you collected. The song never resolved into the shoegaze cliché it helped invent. It stays specific: a drum kit, a voice, and a guitar that will not hold a note still long enough to be admired.

The average My Bloody Valentine track is about one or two guitar tracks: less than a White Stripes or Cramps record.

(Kevin Shields, Magnet, 2007)

The expense became a legend, and the legend got in the way. Shields told Melody Maker in November 1991 that the album itself had cost about a hundred thousand pounds, paid as they went, which was already enough to frighten an independent label and not the cartoon bankruptcy some people preferred. What the money bought was time to refuse the easy effect. No chorus pedal doing the work of a hand. The tremolo arm is the composition.

What remains is the shock of pop inside the blur. Only Shallow has a verse, a lift, a melody you can hum once the noise steps aside for half a bar. That is why it outlasted the scene that borrowed its haircut. The song is not a fog machine. It is a ballad that learned how to hide, and then decided the hiding was the feeling.

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