Icky Mettle is the first studio album recorded by the indie rock band Archers of Loaf. It was produced and engineered by Caleb Southern at Kraptone Studios in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, and released by Alias Records on November 23, 1993.
The album was recorded and mixed in seven days. According to Eric Bachmann, "We spent like $5,000 to make it."
The album spent 22 weeks on the CMJ charts. Interview declared it the "Best Indie Rock Album of the Year". Also, it ranked #32 in Pitchfork Media's original Top 100 albums of the 1990s list.Blender ranked it at #56 in their 100 Greatest Indie-Rock Albums ever list.
In a 2005 interview with The Triangle, Bachmann reflected on the album: "When we first came out we had that energy. It's a weird thing that you can't put your finger on...I listened to 'Icky Mettle', and I almost cringe when I hear it. But what the people probably liked when they heard that record was the energy we were putting out."
The album has received generally positive reviews. Spin gave Icky Mettle a score of 8/10. Reviewer Mike Powell describes it as, "an album of boyish fits and noisy guitar flurries. It's indie rock as hearty and art-free as oatmeal, before the line separating it from the mainstream dissolved, before it became so...eclectic."
Bit my lip
And it's the same thing.
Now I'm reduced to a pulp.
Your undisturbed and decorated
Decorations lie.
You're hounded by pulse
Stabbed by spit
And your brain fits
Despite your ears.
Another one has run in.
Rottin and gossiped,
You're all used up
With a burst up shell. (?)
Why're you gonna try it
If you know you don't like it
How're you gonna give it up
If you ain't got it.
Why're you gonna use it
If you think that it's broke.
Why're you gonna swell the show (?)
The things that you're breaking down, down, down.
Down cold thresh flesh paste
Deliver hate paste.
Voices sick and swelling
You say you don't like it.
You say you don't like it.
But you just don't get it
You just don't get it.
You're hounded by pulse,
Stabbed by spit
And your brain shits
To clog your ears.
A casual mark
Made by a bird.
What you lost
With your fair hands.
Why're you gonna try it
If you know you don't like it.
How're you gonna give it up
If you ain't got it.
Why're you gonna use it
If you think that it's broke
Why're you gonna swell the show
The things that you're breaking down, down, down