Matthew Sweet's In Reverse is a concept album but only in the subtlest of ways. On some of the tracks, Sweet elected to employ the Phil Spector "Wall-of-Sound" method (albeit stripped down) by recording multiple instruments "live" in the studio with minimal overdubs. This technique has opened up greater possibilities for Sweet's tune-friendly material -- it sounds more natural, more spontaneous, and more "alive" than before.
You know you're in for a groovy ride when the trumpets (ala Arthur Lee's Love) punctuate the self-conscious opener "Millennium Blues." This psychedelic nuance is emphasized by the backward guitar intro to "Beware My Love." Elsewhere, Sweet raves it up with the melodic Neil Young-ish rockers "Faith In You" and "Split Personality." Conversely, he pours it on thick with the gorgeous ballads "Hide" and "Worse to Live" - which deserve to be played to death on radios all over the world along with the breezy and infectious "I Should Never Let You Know." Unrelenting in scope and quality, Sweet manages to top it all with the Wilsonesque suite "Thunderstorm," which is actually four songs woven into one coherent tapestry.
At the beginning of this review, I described In Reverse as a concept album. If it only succeeds in making you appreciate the rich inspiration of the sixties as manifested in Matthew Sweet's sublime songcraft, then that concept has become a vital reality - the power of pop!
By Dave Veitch
Matthew Sweet's last album, Blue Sky on Mars, proved (a) he is capable of making an album byplaying most of the instruments himself, and (b) his pure-pop songs are best served when he doesn't attempt to be a one-man band. In Reverse hammers home the point. Four songs feature a 17-piece ensemble that successfully finds the middle ground between Phil Spector's wall-of-sound and the florid splendour of The Beach Boys' Pet Sounds. Even though these four breathtaking beauties are undoubtedly the best things on the album, the remaining 10 tracks are hardly filler. Everything's blessed with Sweet's indelible pop melodies and nifty instrumental touches, such as the backwards trumpet that runs through "Millennium Blues," which recalls Oranges and Lemons-era XTC. Sweet's finest hour since 1993's Girlfriend.
New Times Los Angeles Online, October 21-27, 1999
By David Simutis
See, it's called In Reverse - that's why the CD booklet is upside down and reads from back to front. Funny. The real cleverness, thankfully, is saved for the songs. Matthew Sweet - you may know him from Girlfriend, "Sick of Myself," or his production on the Velvet Crush's Free Expression - is a craftsman, a sculptor of classic tunes who makes it sound effortless. Inspired by Phil Spector's wall of sound, Sweet enlisted an army of musicians (including both guys from Velvet Crush) for In Reverse; some tracks have two drummers, two bassists, three keyboardists, five guitarists, and two horn players. This rock orchestra approach lends a fuzzy-edged radiance to the songs that layers of multitracking couldn't accomplish. The style is the difference between the laser-guided, cold precision of NiN's new The Fragile and the mushy wallop of Black Sabbath. The entire record wasn't recorded that way, and there are overdubs - particularly Sweet's lush harmony vocals - but when the many musicians (14 to 17) play at the same time, In Reverse definitely sounds like a band together in the same (cavernous) room.
The twisted pop stylists of the Elephant 6 collective (Olivia Tremor Control, Apples in Stereo) frequently achieve this kind of atmosphere, using archaic studio gear and multiple overdubs, although they ingest too many psychedelics to be lumped in with the straight-arrow songs of Sweet. His production furthers the aim of his songs; it's never the basis of the music. This is actually more like Wilco or Guided by Voices, combing through the minutiae of rock 'n' roll history (Beatles, Beach Boys, Byrds) and rearranging the DNA to build a slightly new beast.
Previous Sweet records went the Big Star jangle-and-power-pop route, but In Reverse takes a step a decade back. It's more 1962 than '72, and his teenage symphonies lend themselves to this retro production style. They are the kind of timeless, guitar-based pop songs that recall '60s pop even when he's not mimicking the production recording methods. "Hide" is pure AM-gold slow-dance material - right down to the minor-key piano intro, sweeping chorus, and eerie theremin solo.
But what In Reverse really does well is rock. Starting with the three-song punch of the openers, "Millennium Blues," "If Time Permits," and "Beware My Love" (which all overlap into the following song), the record states its purpose in no uncertain terms: Bigger is better. It helps that Sweet sounds as if he's singing from the bottom of an empty indoor swimming pool. The record briefly heads up from there. Track four, "Faith in You," is a roar of big guitars and bashing drums. But the singular highlight of the album is almost a throwaway moment - the intro to "I Should Never Have Let You Know." The brief bit recalls Aretha Franklin's "Chain of Fools," before morphing into a churning rocker with the giant band giving the reverb treatment. A ghostly organ and countryish guitar solo retain the rock roots as Sweet answers himself on harmony vocals, while the bass guitar maintains a deep R&B groove that's just short of funky. Moments like this demonstrate why this is the one that Sweet has needed to make since Girlfriend.
MusicEmissions.com, October 1999
Matthew succedes once again. This is one of those album that you can't just listen to once. As Mr. Sweet grows up so does his songwriting. In Reverse takes on an grandiose feeling with sprawling songs and rockers stuck in the middle. One can only wonder what Matthew has been up to in the meantime. He still sings about love, broken love, and a few personality crisies ("Split Personality"). For those still expecting another Girlfriend you will be disappointed. For those of you looking for something happy, sad, and upbeat you will enjoy In Reverse. He remains the pop king.
The Boston Phoenix, October 28-November 4, 1999
Rating: 3 1/2 Stars
By Jonathan Perry
Although Sweet claims the title of his seventh album refers to both the Beatlesque backwards instrumentation that peppers it and his wistful desire to reach back to more innocent days, it also alludes to the songwriter's dramatic musical about-face. Two years after releasing the lackluster, mostly self-made Blue Sky on Mars, Sweet has returned to his old habit of tapping talented collaborators to help make his pop classicist's dreams come true.
The result? His best album since '93's Altered Beast and perhaps his most ambitious undertaking ever (the disc's closing track, "Thunderstorm," is a four-part love-as-nature suite that evokes Abbey Road, "Good Vibrations," and "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes"). Working with a cast of more than a dozen history-steeped session pros (among them guitarist Greg Leisz and Pet Sounds bassist Carol Kaye) and old friends (Velvet Crush's Paul Chastain and Ric Menck, Girlfriend producer Fred Maher), Sweet has orchestrated a wonderwall of sound that does more than just pay hipster lip service to its influences. Like Brian Wilson, he's often cast his lyrically somber songs about emotional desolation in the service of a hopelessly catchy chorus and sun-splashed melody. For that reason, the ornate tack piano and sleigh-bell trappings of the buoyant but confessional "If Time Permits" and "I Should Never Have Let You Know" make perfect sense. Despair rarely sounds this sweet.
Bobsled.com, October 1999
By James Keast
With double tracked vocals, big horns, layered keyboards and some of the catchiest melodies, Matthew Sweet lives up to his name on this latest album, a welcome return to form after 1997's disappointing Blue Sky On Mars. "I've got a split personality," Sweet sings at one point, and that's certainly been evident throughout his career - not just in the sometimes sporadic quality of his output, but in his romantic perspective, as he wavers between hope and despair, bitter loneliness and blissful contentment - basically, between 1991's Girlfriend and 1993's Altered Beast. In Reverse contains elements of both, but it seems the uncaring, don't-let-the-door-hit-your-ass Sweet is dominating here. It's nice to see, since some of his choicest lyrical gems spring from those sentiments; they're balanced out by the pathetic "take me back" songs that wallow in their own crapulence, with some lovely musical accompaniment. Heartbreak never sounded so good.
Scene Magazine, October 21, 1999
By Bob Klanac
Although he's a topnotch pop songwriter, Matthew Sweet had a problem of his own making. For his past couple of albums, Sweet attempted to meld his knack for pop hooks with a love of bash pop.
By 1997's Blue Sky On Mars, he had hit a creative wall. The melodies were occasionally strong; but, the bash-up part became a creatively bereft formula -- call it playing to your weaknesses.
By contrast, In Reverse is a triumph true to its name. Sweet still kicks a whole bunch; but, he's simultaneously reined in by this three co-producers (Greg Leisz, Fred Maher & Jim Scott) and challenged by them.
In Reverse sounds as messy as ever but quite specifically so,
not unlike Phil Spector and Brian Wilson as imagined by Crazy Horse. Trumpets
blast, guitars push their way to the fore with quick staccato bursts and
according to the liners a theramin, harpsichord, reverse trombone and flugelhorn
have been added to the mix. Could be, but it's to the credit of this gloriously
dense recording that you'd be hard pressed to pick them out.
Highlights are plenty. The opener "Millenium Blues" and "Write Your Own Song" come instantly to mind; but, most importantly, In Reverse plays like an album. It's a joy for all of its 55 minutes. For that alone it's a rare treat. A wonderful comeback/reversal for Sweet and recommended at that.
Rolling Stone, November 1999
Rating: 3 1/2 Stars
By Karen Schoemer
Matthew Sweet's influences used to be a lovely lam‚ noose he hanged himself with. The Tuesday Weld shot on the cover of his album Girlfriend, the presence of heavy-hitter guitarists like Richard Lloyd (Television) and Robert Quine (Voidoids), even his Seventies glam-band last name - it was all quite stylish but at times chokingly trite, as if Sweet were trying too hard and losing himself in the process. On In Reverse, his seventh album, he finally masters his own love of retro gimmickry. Production tricks still abound: Four songs are recorded using an update of Phil Spector's Wall of Sound technique, with pianos, basses, backward guitars, theremin, harpsichord and sleigh bells piled on for texture while about eighty Matthew Sweets angelically harmonize. But like the classics "You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin' " or "Be My Baby," these songs are such perfect little valentines that the production just brings them to larger life. "If Time Permits" is an appeal to right old wrongs; "Untitled" is about the ache of unfulfillment. Sweet isn't just making tidy date music here - he has something real to say about the passage of time and the wisdom that comes after youth. He's figured out what influences are for: not just to show how cool you are, but to help you make sense of the world, and yourself in it.
Eye Magazine, November 4, 1999
Rating: 4 Stars
By Stuart Berman
Caught between a craftsman's quest for timeless, artful pop and a new-wave freak's penchant for disposable cheap thrills, Matthew Sweet has penned some of the decade's most enduring three-minute anthems, but rarely have his two worlds collided so gloriously as they do on In Reverse. Boldly expanding his sonic palette with swirling horns and Theremins while adhering to a humble, workmanlike approach that would do Tom Petty proud, Sweet forsakes the usual standout singles for seamless song flow and remarkably consistent tunefulness. And even if his first attempt at a colossal prog-pop suite ("Thunderstorms") doesn't quite add up, there are enough winning melodic moments tucked within its nine minutes to fill a dozen Teenage Fanclub albums. (Matthew Sweet plays Lee's Palace Friday.)
The Guardian, November 5, 1999
Power pop is given a good name by this beautiful wall of sound
By Barney Hoskyns
Matthew Sweet began the 90s with the much-feted Girlfriend, an album of angular, bittersweet power pop markedly different from the meaty rage of Nirvana and friends. A fur-shrouded Tuesday Weld pouted kittenishly from the cover and grunge-allergic critics who knew their Big Star records backwards waxed euphoric.
The power-pop fusion of energy and melody had been a constant in American rock for years when Nebraska-born Sweet put his knowing `alt.rock' spin on the mellifluous riffology of Cheap Trick, Dwight Tilley, and even early REM.
"Sometimes I think `power pop' is a little more limited as a musical range than what I'd like to think I do," he confesses on the phone from his Los Angeles home. `But on the other hand, the power- pop world is the only place I ever felt I had any kind of stature.' Sweet says he was proud to be featured along the Raspberries, Badfinger and other power-pop deities on Rhino's definitive 1997 collection, Poptopia.
Still, the albums Sweet has released since Girlfriend suggest a man determined not to be pigeonholed with the likes of the Posies and the Plimsouls. Neither the febrile guitars of Robert Quine and Richard Lloyd on Altered Beast (1993) and 100% Fun (1995), nor the signature crunch of Pearl Jam producer Brendan O'Brien on the latter and Blue Sky on Mars (1997), implied that Sweet was exactly trying to curry favour with Rubinoos fans. For every pristine piece of melodicism ("What Do You Know?," "I Almost Forgot"), there was at least one gnarly one might almost say grungey rocker ("Dinosaur Act," "Walk Out") in evidence. By the release of the dull, sludgy Blue Sky, power-pop fiends who'd swooned to Girlfriend were wondering if their hero would ever match or top it.
Sweet says he was driving around LA last year listening to the Phil Spector Back to Mono boxed set when one of those big ideas came to him. "I was thinking that back then there was a real drama to a song that was really heartfelt and that you don't hear so much now," he recalls. "And I just thought it would be nice to take some of my more melodic songs and do them with a large group of musicians where lots of instruments are doubling each other and you get that sort of hyperreal vibe."
Four tracks form the core of the big, bold, beautiful In Reverse. Recorded at LA's Cello studios formerly the legendary 60s studio Western, cradle of Pet Sounds all four are huge and intoxicating. The sublime "If Time Permits" could be a fantastical, parallel-universe tape of Phil Spector producing The Byrds at their most choral, and "I Should Never Have Let You Know" is a thumping homage to Pet Sounds' creator in his best Darlin' mode.
In an authentically Spectoresque touch, Girlfriend veteran Fred Maher doubles on drums alongside Ric Menck of power-pop diehards Velvet Crush (whose fine new album Free Expression Sweet co-produced), while Carol Kaye, mainstay of umpteen Spector and Brian Wilson sessions, takes her place among the record's batallion of bass players. Other Californian touchstones Jackie DeShannon's Needles and Pins on "Untitled," the first Crosby, Stills & Nash album on "Thunderstorm" are echoed across the 14 tracks.
Even on In Reverse's sparer tracks, Sweet is shooting for unabashed wall-of-sound cavernousness. "Millennium Blues" is an end-of-century anthem howled from the rooftops, "Write Your Own Song" a blast of impatience directed at the music industry. "Hide" is that rare commodity, an affecting AOR ballad a la Peter Cetera, and the epic finale "Thunderstorm" a nine-and-a-half-minute knitting-together of four separate tracks may be Sweet's crowning achievement to date.
For anyone who ever loved Sweet and thought he hadn't quite delivered on his indisputable talent, In Reverse is the sound of a 35-year-old pop obsessive ripping up the rule book and going for it with no holds barred.
"It's for all my fellow musicians who are still attempting to make music in a climate where nobody seems to care about records any more," he says. "It's a time when careers don't matter and everybody's scared for their future."
If rock really is dying, then In Reverse makes for splendid death throes.
Associated Press Online, November 9, 1999 09:01
By David Bauder
Matthew Sweet has a serious backwards thing going on here - backwards
trumpets, backwards trombones, backwards guitars, backwards organ, even
backwards bongos. His CD booklet puts the front cover on the back and vice
versa, and offers the song lyrics in backwards order.
To keep the theme, let's go back to 1990 and Sweet's Girlfriend, a near-perfect pop masterpiece that he hasn't come close to repeating in the intervening years. Until now.
This is an album drenched in weirdness and unparalleled beauty. Some albums sound like they bring a musician so close that it's an intimate experience. In Reverse is the opposite. Sweet sounds like he's singing in a tunnel filled with thunderous noise. His presence is as ghostly as his CD booklet pictures.
Sweet brings back Fred Maher, his collaborator on Girlfriend, and the album appears to take a similar journey through a tormented romance. All 14 cuts bristle with energy and tunefulness. The crunching "Faith in You," "If Time Permits" and "I Should Never Have Let You Know" all deserve special mention.
On "Write Your Own Song," Sweet expresses frustration with a lover.
Finally, there's the audacious album's closer, "Thunderstorm," a nearly 10-minute pop symphony with twists and turns and echoes of Brian Wilson and Phil Spector. "Deep inside I am tired of running," he sings. "I don't mind that the rain is coming down."
It's a tremendous achievement. And so is this album.
Rating: 4 Stars
By Redmund Law
The last track on this album ("Thunderstorm") provides a fitting climax to one of the best albums released by Matthew Sweet and one which threatens to be in most critics' year-end list for albums of the year. This track perfectly encapsulates Sweet's musical vision: melodic, multi-layered, epic and reverb-drenched. Easily the most ambitious ever attempted by him, the track starts with a thundering opening before progressing through a complex 4-part opus changing tempo (rock to waltz to psychedelia and back again), and essentially lays bare all his musical influences.
Matthew Sweet might not be a household name but he has been consistent in his output over the past ten years. Hailing from Athens, Georgia he began his musical career in a band with Michael Stipe's sister before going solo. In Reverse though is the masterpiece he has been on the verge of making since 1991's Girlfriend. Think of Phil Spector producing The Byrds with Gram Parsons singing Brian Wilson written tunes and you are somewhere near to the sound of this stunning album. Sweet claimed in an interview that he had always wanted to make an album "drenched in reverb" and here it is. The reverb placed on the multiple instruments and his vocals create a sonic cacophony much like what Spector used to do. The "dun, bum bum - boom, dun, bum bum - boom" drum pattern which begins "Be My Baby" is resurrected here a few times, and used to maximum effect on "Thunderstorm."
The psychedelia that informs this album is obvious from opening track "Millennium Blues" in the backward horns swirling away as Sweet's voice echoes all round. "If Time Permits" is another in the vein of Sweet's trademark ballads featuring his multi-tracked voice and an ending which segues into the "Beware My Love" through backwards guitars and a chorus that is totally heavenly. Sweet's ability at crafting country-tinged rock tunes is further proven with "I Should Never Have Let You Know" and "Trade Places." The latter is a beauty of a song with a haunting electric piano part that tugs the heart during the verse before the song soars in the chorus; another trick which Sweet is a master of. The use of 12-string Rickenbacker and slide guitars are evident in almost all the tracks, helping to define Sweet's sound and filling-in the spaces perfectly.
The most immediate and hook-filled track, "What Matters" is far too elaborate for radio to understand its brilliance. This is powerpop at its best, like a platform for Sweet to construct layer upon layer of hooks; the melody of the chorus underscored by the captivating guitar solo. Actually the track leaves you breathless at the end and yet yelling for more. This was the lead single for the album, but in this age of boy-bands, it could never chart.
"Untitled" is the most exquisite moment on the album. Unlike many similarly titled songs before it, it actually refers to the song itself rather than a cop-out by most artists who cannot choose an apt name for a song. "Don't let me go on/ Sad and unfinished/ Don't let make mine a chord/ That is diminished/ Don't let me go on long/ Untitled." A magnificent imagery for a man hanging on to an aimless relationship.
After Blue Sky On Mars which was Sweet's last effort, In Reverse should finally win him more than just cult acclaim. There are few albums you will hear this year as melodic and infectious as this. Like the Flaming Lips' The Soft Bulletin, the aural delights you will derive from listening to this will be endless. I could go on expounding the albums intricacies, but they just have to be heard to be appreciated.
Rating: Gold
As a staple contributor of the late 1980s and early 1990s, Matthew Sweet has continued singing about the ins and outs of human relationships long after popular radio stations took his "Girlfriend" song out of heavy rotation nearly 10 years ago.
On In Reverse, Sweet manages to refine his playing and singing style to that of a seasoned musician who knows what he knows and doesn't try to veer far from that course. Rather than blast through a collection of uncharacteristic tunes filled with heavy power chords or electronic wizardry, Sweet sticks to his guns, ushering in the new Millennium with classic Sweet style that doesn't depend on anything more than honesty and true musical talent.
For Sweet's seventh full-length release, the singer-songwriter recruited an extensive roster of musicians and producers to help create the musically diverse offerings on In Reverse. In addition to his long-standing crew of backing musicians, Sweet enlisted a more complete roster of additional musicians and three producers to help him record this latest release.
In Reverse opens with Sweet's tribute of sorts to the dawning of the New Year with "Millennium Blues," which features distant vocals, thick guitar chords and bright trumpets and trombones lingering in the background. "If Time Permits" and "Beware My Love" are typically-written Sweet tracks, flavored with softly performed guitar chords and lyrics about human relationships.
"Faith In You" and "Split Personality" showcase Sweet's desire to jam out a little with his electric guitar, but he never lets his guitar take too much control of the songs, which also incorporate extensive harmonies and some additional percussion to fill out the drumming of long-time Sweet stick-man Ric Menck.
"Hide" is the album's "I Almost Forgot," which first showcased Sweet's affection and talent for the piano on 1995's 100% Fun release. "Trade Places" is another piano-heavy song, but has a stepped-up tempo compared to "Hide," which means the listener doesn't get too barraged by that slower-paced type of song.
One of the great things about Sweet's records is that he continues building on what he's done before. He also continues playing a variety of musical instruments, which seems almost perfectly reminiscent of his early recordings where he played everything himself because he hadn't formed a band of his own yet. In addition to playing the piano and electric guitar, Sweet continues to dabble at the bass and six- and 12-string acoustic guitar, which proves his worth as one of the modern rock world's better, unsung heroes.
Rating: A-
I discovered Matthew Sweet a couple years ago, through his then-two-year old 100% Fun. What I found was an album of near-perfect power pop, crafted and produced with the utmost care; 40+ minutes of the greatest music of the decade. Then the dud of Blue Sky on Mars happened, irredeemable aside from just a few tracks. I feared he lost had his touch.
Thankfully, In Reverse finds him back near the top of his game. The album's production smacks of both Phil Spector and Brian Wilson and completes a progression of production values begun with 1993's Altered Beast; it's a full piece, loaded with new, complex instrumentation. The album's first cut, the poorly titled "Millenium Blues", features an orchestral horn section to good effect and the epic "Thunderstorm" plays with ambient sound and stylistic arcs in a way that Sweet hasn't touched before.
Something I was very surprised to find was an almost R.E.M.-like sound on several tracks; I get the feeling that their Up would've been more like this if R.E.M. hadn't been so caught up in being R.E.M. Specifically, "If Time Permits" smacks of the Michael Stipe/Brian Wilson feel that was to have infiltrated R.E.M. I guess it had to stop off at Sweet's studio instead; he's really got it nailed.
What really makes this album work, though, is the renewed sense of experimentation. Testing and evolving are what made Sweet's sound so great on previous albums and their lack was what hurt Blue Sky. Here, we have stylistically new territory on songs like "What Matters", lyrically untested ground on "Write Your Own Song" and "Untitled" and even an unconventional package. Everything on the disc's case is backwards; it opens to the right and the liner notes read from right to left (probably a welcome sight on the Japanese release). It's odd enough that Amazon.com got it screwed up; their image of the cover has it scanned it upside down. Who'd have ever thought that Amazon.com would be too corporate to understand an odd CD case?
I doubt I could be much happier with how this record turned out. Matthew Sweet has been a bit of an unsung hero this decade, clearly influencing a myriad of artists but never quite getting the big hit he deserves. Here's hoping that In Reverse brings it to him.
Rating: 3 stars
By Lee Konitz
Matthew Sweet drives head-on into Phil Spector's wall of sound, and surfs along the Beach Boys' harmonious waves on his extremely pleasurable seventh album.
Sweet lets loose with his grandest production ideas on this set filled with memorable melodies and emotionally stacked love songs. The echo-chamber harmonies and warbly theremins of ``If Time Permits'' are elegant. Backward guitar parts abound in the trippy, off-kilter psychedelia of ``Split Personality.'' And anyone who has ever wished aloud that Sweet would score one big breakthrough hit must listen to the scathing rocker ``Write Your Own Song'' to learn how you've hurt him.
No matter what happens commercially, Sweet has succeeded musically. (Monday at the Paradise.) S.R.
Why whimper when you can bang? Hoorah for a great big, juicy Spectoresque sound.
By Barney Hoskyns
Seventh studio album from Nebraska-born maverick enlists arsenal of collaborators including Greg Leisz and LA boss legend Carol Kaye
Aficionados of clean, clever, honed American pop have had to make do with meagre rations of late. Thank God that 1999 has at least produced Fountains of Wayne's hilarious Utopia Parkeway; some of us might otherwise have retreated permanently into the mildewed recesses of our own powerpop archives. And now there's another gem to keep the hopes alive.
Ever since 1991's Girlfriend - not quite a classic, but a beacon for pop classicists all the same - Matthew Sweet has done much to keep the pop flame flickering. All the while he's had his own little tussles with powerpop purism, refusing to settle for the easy pigeonhole. At the other end of the decade, Sweet has finally taken the bull by the horns and made the big pop record we always knew he had in him: millennial, Spectoresque, and unapologetically passionate. If it is nothing else, In Reverse is a return to the sonic values of the epic '60s singles made in southern California.
Four core tracks ("If Time Permits," "I Should Never Have Let You Know," "Worse To Live," and the first and last sections of "Thunderstorm") were recorded with a huge group of musicians in what used to be the old Western studios in Hollywood. Directly inspired by Phil Spector, they suggest lost Byrds and Beach Boys outtakes helmed by the tiny autocrat. "If Time Permits" in particular stands with the finest things Sweet has done: a cavernously choral, engulfingly lovely melding of The Ronettes and Younger Than Yesterday, replete with massive double drums, quadruple guitars and keyboards, and the legendary Carol Kaye on bass.
Even when the line-up is lighter on Sweet's wallet, In Reverse is big and "wet" where his earlier albums were cramped and dry. The driving "Millenium Blues" and defiant "Write Your Own Song" are super-charged rockers, while "Hide" is a soaring stadium ballad packing a killer middle eight and "Future Shock" is...well, a powerpop classic, if you must know. "Thunderstorm" - a nine-and-a-half-minute suite - makes for a stupendously grand finale, like "Walking In The Rain" bleeding into The Beatles and Born To Run via Crosby, Stills, and Nash.
You want hooks, harmonies, miraculous melodicism? You come to the right review, pal.
Goldmine, #507, December 31, 1999
By John M. Borack
After his seminal Girlfriend album was released in 1991, Matthew Sweet was crowned by many punters as the Next Big Pop Hope, or the one that was going to help put melodically-driven music back on the airwaves and in the public consciousness. Didn't quite work out that way, due to some inconsistent follow-ups and consumer indifference, but now Sweet is back with a vengeance with In Reverse, easily his finest, most consistently enjoyable record since Girlfriend.
In Reverse is definitely Sweet's most "produced," glossiest-sounding release. The rich, organic feel is aided on many numbers by the presence of one of Phil Spector's former "Wrecking Crew" - ace bassist Carol Kaye. She adds her fluid chops to the grandly Spector-ian "If Time Permits," where she is pushed up front in the mix (definitely a good thing) and the moving, anti-suicide ballad "Worse To Live," among others.
While Sweet's ballads are all very good or better (the slightly country-inflected "Untitled" is also worthy of special mention), it's the up-tempo numbers that really drive In Reverse. The hyper-catchy "Millenium Blues" starts the disc off in the right direction, with its opening blast of "Penny Lane"-like trumpets heralding the arrival of a classic Sweet tune that's definitely Y2K compatible. "I Should Never Have Let You Know" is another sure shot and the most overtly poppy song on the record. The hilarious put-down "Write Your Own Song" lambasts fans (or is it management...or perhaps record company suits?) who'd like Sweet to write that ever-elusive radio smasheroo.
In Reverse closes with the nearly 10-minute "Thunderstorm," which deftly weaves in a number of snippets of like-themed songs to create a mini pop masterpiece. While "masterpiece" might be overstating the case just a bit when describing the CD as a whole, it's certainly not as far off a description as some might think. This is definitely one of the high points for good old-fashioned pop music in 1999
Big Beef and Beer, March 23, 2000
By Tim
Everyone has their favorite artists...the artist whose album you buy the first day it is released and listen to one thousand times in the first week. An artist whose next album you cannot wait to hear, even if it is the greatest hits album. No matter how bad everyone else says the album is you will listen to it until you find some redeeming quality. Well, my favorite artist is Matthew Sweet. As you might have guessed he released a new album recently and I have listened to it for the last two weeks straight. The album is called In Reverse and released under the Volcano Entertainment record label.
As with all his albums, Matthew Sweet wrote all the songs, sang all the vocals, and played many of the instruments on the album. Yes, as you might have guessed, he is a very talented artist. He made the big time with his album Girlfriend and the song by the same name (one of my favorite songs of all time, the video is great too). Since then he has produced four albums, all of about the same quality and music. Matthew Sweet sings generally about adult relationships and takes a melancholy approach to the pain and heartbreak it can cause, at times. Rolling Stone Magazine wrote about In Reverse:
Sweet isn't just making tidy date music here - he has something real to say about the passage of time and the wisdom that comes after youth.
Matthew Sweet's voice is smooth and clear but at times high pitched. But the vocals are very well matched and mixed into the music, creating an awsome sound. The music is great with an appropriate mixture of drums, guitar, and other instruments and sounds. In developing songs, Sweet attempts to create unique sounds and does this with a variety of new ideas and instruments. For example, on this album he uses a steel guitar, electric harpsichord, and horns played backwards.
Matthew Sweets thoughts on the album:
One of my best-reviewed albums and one of my own favorites! Having a whole production "team" of my friends made this one a joy to make. I like the combination of the big spector-esque sound with psychedelic backwards instruments, and the very personal songs. I wanted this one to be exotic, and to have a sense of being an experience sonically for the listener, rather than just a collection of singles. The artwork features an amazing painting from 1963 by Margaret Keane, from our personal collection of original big-eyed oil paintings. I thought it lent to the Alice in Wonderland quality of the album. Also not to be overlooked - the CD package is backwards! Hint for the confused: the spine goes to the right!
I rate this album 4 BB & B's for Matthew Sweet music lovers and 3 BB & B's for everyone else. I recommend that everyone should have a Matthew Sweet album or two in their collection. Make sure you listen to this (and all) his albums a couple of times before you pass judgement, they grow on you.
By Joe McCombs
After several years of trying to be subtle about his '60s influences, Matthew Sweet has finally come out of the closet as an unrepentant Sixtophile. His new release In Reverse lives up to its name, pulling production techniques from Phil Spector’s famed Wall of Sound and harmonies out of the Brian Wilson bag. The resulting arrangements are a perfect fit for Sweet's innate pop sensibilities.
The In Reverse title applies to this album on several levels. There's the obvious antecedent in sound; there’s the (rather unnecessary) gimmickry of right-to-left packaging and liner notes; and most importantly, there’s an utter drench of backwards-tracked instruments. These backward loops of horns and guitar reverb are highly reminiscent of the Beatles' psychedelic phase, giving the impression that Sweet locked himself up with Revolver and the refurbished Yellow Submarine soundtrack for a few weeks.
But to leave it at that would be needlessly reductive. Matthew Sweet has been a '60s pop-song writer for his entire career; this is merely the first album where he "calls this song exactly what it is," as Aretha Franklin once said. He even goes so far as to enlist original Wall of Sound session bassist Carol Kaye, for the authenticity as well as the unmistakable sound. (The Wall of Sound, for those of you unfamiliar, was just that: legendary producer Phil Spector’s tactic of layering dozens of tracks atop each other, using multiple players on each instrument to give sound a dimension of size in addition to volume.) Sweet's layers of harpsichords, tack piano, percussion and the ever-elegant (both forward and in reverse) guitar work of Greg Leisz could turn even the mildest of songs into a pop experience.
Fortunately, none of his songs fall into the "mildest" category. Sweet has never attempted to be a terribly complicated songwriter, but he does come up with some clever lines ("Don’t let me go on / Sad and unfinished / Don’t make me a chord / That is diminished") and even essays at an epic, the nine-minute closing track, "Thunderstorm." That song has some memorable moments, but Sweet is far more at ease in the three-minute concise crunches of "Future Shock" and the opening "Millennium Blues."
Along with those, standout tracks include "If Time Permits," which allows Sweet to harmonize with himself with the elegance of Brian Wilson circa "God Only Knows"; "I Should Never Have Let You Know," which throws Traffic, the Turtles and Phil Spector into a blender to produce something thoroughly intoxicating; and the humorous "Write Your Own Song," which lashes out at every producer, PR lackey, friend or fan who ever told Matthew how to take care of his business. "'Cause I’m not listening," he scolds in the same sweet voice as ever.
Best of all, though, is the stunningly gorgeous "Worse to Live." The song’s lush harmonies and touches of trombone and flugelhorn glean all that is golden from the Brian Wilson and Richard Carpenter songbooks. It seems that Sweet picked up a few ideas when working with Richard on the similarly pretty "Let Me Be the One," from the Karen Carpenter tribute If I Were a Carpenter. At five minutes, this one goes on far too long for some - but for me, that's like saying there’s too much oxygen in the room.
Overall, the seemingly effortless harmonies become almost weightless at times, a telltale sign of overproduction. But if you, like me, tend to prefer product to process, you’ll agree that In Reverse is a collection of perfect pop songs, as delightful as they are derivative. If pop songs were what we sought today, Matthew Sweet would rule the world. But since it’s no longer 1966, In Reverse will get a rabid cult following, make a few critics' end-of-year "best of" lists and little more. And that's a shame, because this record should be heard.