Covers make me wary. For every truly great cover, wherein an artist inhabits the original material to such an extent that it becomes their own, there is a slew of poorly initiated knock offs, designed primarily for brand recognition and spurious, unearned applause, rather than for any genuine affection or artistic merit.
There are exceptions. Melvins, for example, have executed a series of covers over the years so unhinged as to be truly unique, while the likes of Sonic Youth, Nirvana, and Mudhoney all happily traded songs, showcasing that gloriously muddled mix of genuine love and gleeful abandon that makes a cover work.
Happily, the various covers found scattered amidst the other odds and end of this career-ending compilation, fall very much into the category outlined above. A noise rock band hailing from Baltimore, Maryland, Birth (Defects) split some nine years ago, only to return in 2025 with a long-shelved album that they had finally determined to complete. Titled Deceiver / Mirror, it was mixed by Steve Albini compatriot and Shellac bassist Bob Weston and the band played a handful of shows to celebrate its finally seeing the light.
One way or another, that fortuitous reunion led to Fictitious Days, a nine-track release that includes covers from pivotal bands from within the Birth (Defects) lexicon – with tracks from Nirvana, Sonic Youth, The New Flesh, The Comsat Angels, and SSD all given the Birth (Defects)’ treatment. Additionally, the LP includes four original tracks, which cement it all together, making this a tasteful full-stop that marks the passing of the band in much the same way as Botch’s excellent Anthology Of Dead Ends.
It opens with the feedback strewn horror of Deceiver. Recorded by J Robbins, mixed by Barrett Jones (Pussy Galore, KARP, Nirvana) and mastered by Mathew Barnhart, it genuinely sounds like some long-lost gem from the early Nirvana-on-Sub-Pop days. The sort of thing that would have been pressed onto a cheap 7” and released with DIY artwork, only to find greater acclaim on the likes of a compilation like Teriyaki Asthma, it comprises churning bass, melodies more hinted at than fully realised, and a vocal performance that slips just past ramshackle to land at an authenticity I thought consigned to the dustbin of Autotune. And, if all of the above hasn’t made it clear, it’s fucking awesome.
The band follow up with a skronky take on Sunday, a Sonic Youth track arguably better known for Macauley Culkin and his lollipop than for being a fantastic single in its own right, but that’s an argument for another day. For now, it’s enough to note that Birth (Defects) play it relatively straight, capturing the glorious melody of the original and clothing it in layers of static and feedback. Essentially, imagining the track as it might have sounded had the band penned it during the sessions for Goo, it’s a genuinely enjoyable cover that adds a fresh spin to a track that I simply hadn’t imagined could be bettered.
Well, that shows me.
Anyway, moving swiftly on, the band dip into their Nirvana bag of tricks for Doubts, which is the slightly inbred cousin of Big Cheese, complete with disaffected vocal and monstrous banks of churning guitars that seem to be straining at the leash of tonality. In contrast, Scapegoat (a New Flesh Cover) clocks in at some eight minutes, the band exploring a visceral post-punk landscape that bridges the gap between Confusion Is Sex-era Sonic Youth, Killing Joke, and Nirvana-channelling-Joy-Division. Honestly, were you to tell me this had been recorded in 1988, I’d not raise an eyebrow, and there’s a thrilling rawness to it that is entirely irresistible. It makes it all the more tragic that this is the band’s final stand, because they are playing with a fire here that usually eludes all but the youngest and most wide-eyed of acts.
Perhaps the most surprising track on the release is the rather lovely Postcard. Originally by Sheffield-based post-punkers The Comsat Angels, the most remarkable revelation is the chain of inspiration it traces between that band and Pulp, whose delivery owes a considerable debt to tracks such as Postcard.
It is here that Birth (Defects) step most provocatively onto hallowed turf, with a Nirvana cover. However, if you are going to cover one of the most well-known and loved of all alternative rock bands, then choosing a cover that was only released on a somewhat obscure compilation (The Beavis And Butthead Experience) is the way to go. As covers go, it’s fine, but it’s also the first time that Birth (Defects) sound truly in thrall to the source material and the result is a track that cleaves faithfully to the original without really finding anything new to add to the mix.
Happily, it’s swiftly followed by the thunderous Youth which, with its stabbing guitar lines, screes of ear-raping feedback, and thunderous toms, harks back to the likes of Whipping Boy, and the old adrenaline starts flowing once more. Similarly savage is the fearsome noise assault of Take, which lives inside a hollow shell of screeching dissonance not unlike the Nevermind-exorcising ghost track, Endless Nameless. The band then turn to short-lived straight-edge punk band SSD for the closing cover of How Much Art. A sludgy, doom-laden version, it doubles the length of the original, adding a coda comprised of blown-out noise, white-hot static, and the question: ‘is that enough for You? Or too much?”
Speaking purely for myself, I’d like more, but if this is all there is, then I’ll gladly set the record spinning all over again because, for forty glorious minutes, I was a teenager once more, sat in my bedroom listening to the grimy 7” records that I found in the darkest recesses of the local record shop.
Every once in a while, a release comes along that appears to promise little, only to be exactly what you’ve been looking for. This is one of those releases. A noisy little gem, it’s a passionate love letter to the bands that spawned Birth (Defects), a brilliantly realised full-stop on a too-short career, and a reminder to go and listen to all of the bands named above, once I’ve finished working my way through Birth (Defects)’ own back catalogue. I nearly missed it, I’m glad I didn’t, and you really should get on it too. 9/10
