Over the last few years, I’ve been on a sort of personal quest to uncover the most forgotten, lost, or unusual ’90s major label rock record. During the ’90s, majors were notable for signing damn near everything they thought could replicate the success of Nirvana, Korn or the Red Hot Chili Peppers. They were looking to make money any way they could.
Spirit Gum is by far one of the most unknown records ever released by a major. Hell, the band’s drummer wasn’t even sure Elektra had legitimately put it out in the first place and I am not kidding.
The band started when the rhythm section of early-’90s alternative funk band White Trash broke off and formed Hash. (See review here). That record came out in 1993 and sank without a trace. The bassist split and was replaced by Eric Brodin, who had previously replaced the same bassist in White Trash! Hash toured for a bit and then decided to change their name to Spirit Gum.
Elektra had asked the guys what they wanted to do, and they—Brodin, drummer Mike Caldarella and guitarist/singer Seth Abelson—wanted to go to upstate New York and make a record on their own. The label said sure and let the band record and mix the whole thing without any interference.
Then the band seemingly split before the record was released which made it even more astounding that Elektra even released it. I’ve never known more than like ten people on the internet that were even familiar with this thing and I didn’t even know about it until a month ago.
But, Pete, what the hell does it sound like?
This record is quite different from the Hash record. The sound is more experimental, arty and all over the place. Hash was at least trying to be commercial in that some songs could be radio friendly. That’s all out the window on this disc. Nothing here sounds commercial or anything close to it and that’s exactly what the band wanted.
The opening track “Climb Out Your Skull” is reminiscent of some Hash material, but is acoustic-based and one of the most memorable tracks here. One thing that is evident, aside from the lack of commerciality, is how seemingly slow and drawn out some of these tracks are like “Chaos Is The Water” and “Soul Machine.” While the latter is good, it’s not for the radio or someone looking for a three-minute singalong. This was music written and recorded by three guys doing it for the love of music, with major label money, but not major label aspirations, having already been burned once before.
Not every song works. “Planet Dirt” and “Hellhounds....Yough!” both go nowhere for me and don’t add any kind of excitement to the proceedings. One song that stands out more than the others is the oddly titled “Another Lost Cat Out On A Solo,” which goes for over six minutes but keeps its intensity up and is just all kinds of perplexing and odd to hear on a ’90s rock record, giving off the vibes of a folk song with its melody and the way Abelson shares his words.
Album closer “The Fear” gives off the closest Hash vibes, particularly in the finale. While nothing on this album bounces like a lot of Hash material, this song and “Another Lost Cat” are the closest to how the band sounded with another bassist. In the end, as stated above, the record went absolutely nowhere; no promotion, no touring, not even a video from what I could find. The band is still very proud of what they created, as they should be. Seth Abelson passed in early 2026 and is certainly a songwriter worth rediscovering.