Centered around re-recorded versions of four songs from the band's two Wilde Club singles and the seven minute lovelorn "Black Metallic" - which was referred to as the "Like a Hurricane" of the ‘90s - the deeply rich
Ferment firmly established
Catherine Wheel amongst the shoegaze contingent of the early ‘90s. The band would proceed to denounce the shoegaze tag, but it was a fitting one, at least with everything they released prior to 1993's harder edged
Chrome. Along with bands like
Lush,
Ride, and
Slowdive,
Catherine Wheel buried their sing-along melodies in wafts of distortion and blurry production values.
Rob Dickinson had yet to find comfort as a lead singer, so his somewhat fey and dazed emoting blended perfectly with
Tim Friese-Greene's comfy production. A fair amount of the bands thrown into the same category as
Catherine Wheel were criticized for lacking knowledge of their instruments, but a couple listens to
Ferment should prove that they were hardly amateurish. The employment of numerous guitar pedals didn't serve as a smoke-and-mirrors ruse, and
Friese-Greene knew enough to allow room for bassist Dave Hawes and drummer Neil Sims to flex their able muscles.
Dickinson and lead guitarist
Brian Futter were immensely skilled and complementary to each other from the band's inception; certainly they were one of the most unrecognized guitar duos of their stylistic brethren. Like all fine debuts,
Ferment is varied emotionally, ranging from lust ("I Want to Touch You") to bliss ("Shallow" and "Salt"). It's a record that makes you want to crawl inside its sleeve and remain. It's as welcoming as it is insular and sheltered. ~ Andy Kellman