Melted kicks off with quite the 1-2-3-4 punch: the swarming "Finger", the strummy "Caesar", the bopalong "Girlfriend", the two-faced "Sad Fuzz". Each tune spends a little time getting situated then settles into a wide-eyed amphetamine groove, levels well blown out, Segall's slack, bratty howl smeared liberally over top. "Girlfriend" in particular feels snappy and effortless. Segall's not taking much time figuring out how to beef up his sound, and while just about everything's bathed in the same warm haze and power trio crackle, he manages to jam the odd nooks and crannies of these straightaway songs with a little squiggly sci-fi guitar, barrelhouse piano, recorder, even the odd vocal collage. Segall's made some fine music in the past, but it's always felt a little hit-or-miss on an LP level, with hooks buried by freneticism and too little emphasis on his natural talent as a singer. Melted seems in some ways like his first proper record-- he's in control of every element of his sound on these first four rippers. Pitchfork