In celebration of the Jesus Lizard’s brilliant headlining gig at last month’s Capitol Hill Block Party here in Seattle, I wanted to use August’s Great Albums In History to showcase what I believe to be their greatest album. 1992’s Liar comes very, very close to that honor, but I feel that Goat, which was released one year earlier, is oh-so-slightly higher on the proverbial totem pole. Goat was the Jesus Lizard’s second album and it shows the band learning how to sharpen the wild, caustic rock of their debut into something lean, vicious and deadly.
“Then Comes Dudley”
As opening tracks go, “Then Comes Dudley” is a strange one. Instead of grabbing your attention right out of the gate, it oozes and slithers along, with Duane Denison’s nauseous guitar line creating a lot of tension and foreboding. The pummeling drums and slippery bass don’t help much either. It all finally leads into David Yow’s howling vocals, which are mostly unintelligible. The lyrics themselves are fairly strange (“that woman’s crazy, she’s the mistress of a man who’s crazy too”, etc) but if you’re listening to the Jesus Lizard for the lyrics, I’d say you’re doing something wrong.
“Mouth Breather”
“Mouth Breather” is the scariest song about house-sitting ever recorded. Not that you’d be able to tell, between Yow’s wailing and Denison’s viciously fast guitar riff, but it’s actually a song about the dangers of asking stupid friends to watch over your house while you’re on vacation: “I leave my home, I leave it in the care of a friend, don’t get me wrong, he’s a nice guy, I like him just fine…but he’s a mouth breather.” Probably not the lyrics you’d expect from a song this wild.
“Nub”
The Jesus Lizard pay some homage to their Texan roots with “Nub”, a song which starts with a buzzsaw-like guitar riff played with a metal slide. They also sing in Spanish. Because, y’know…they can. Who’s gonna stop them? Who’s going to say ‘no’ to this song’s stomping drums and grinding rhythm? Not me, let me assure you.
“Seasick”
“Nauseous” is a great adjective to describe the Jesus Lizard’s music, so of course they need to have a song titled “Seasick”. The lyrics mostly consist of Yow yelling “I can swim!” or “I can’t swim” back and forth, while the song teeters between tense verse and wild, crashing choruses. The end effect is a song that sways and jerks like someone trying to handle the open seas in a tiny, tiny boat.
“Monkey Trick”
The album hits a high point on “Monkey Trick”, which serves as Goat’s grinding centerpiece of sorts. David Sims’ bass playing has never been stronger and the pulsing bassline he plays gives this song one hell of a backbone. Add in Denison’s fried guitar licks and occasional outburst of slashing chords and you’ve got a clear standout on a great album. The music is so good you barely even notice Yow’s desperate howling, which is quite a feat in and of itself.
“Karpis”
This track belongs to Duane Denison and his killer guitar trickery. The twisting, wiry lead riff he plays throughout most of this song makes “Karpis” one of the catchier tunes on Goat, but it also ratchets up to queasy tension and paranoia that seems virtually inherent in the Jesus Lizard’s music. The flailing chorus and strangely traditional bridge also help make this a great song.
“South Mouth”
The galloping “South Mouth” is one of the most direct songs on Goat, which is a nice reprieve after the deep-fried strangeness of everything that came before. Yow is at his most incomprehensible and the song’s lyrics, if you can even make them out, are equally bizarre and elliptical. Just what exactly does “hey sometimes we act like animals, hey sometimes we act like little girls” mean? Hell if I know.
“Lady Shoes”
I’ve already wasted the adjective “grinding” on a few of these other songs, but I have to drag it out again for “Lady Shoes” because it’s the only word that adequately describes this storm of blistering guitar, bass and intense screaming. This song might as well not have words, given how yelping Yow sounds. But, as with everything else on this album, it just rocks. No complaints from me.
“Rodeo In Joliet”
Goat’s last track is both much longer than anything else on the record and also much slower. It’s part of a rare breed of song that could possibly be described as a “Jesus Lizard ballad.” However, it doesn’t behave like most ballads do. Instead of heartfelt emotion and downplayed musicianship, it’s a five-minute saga of ringing guitar and carefully wielded vocal dynamics, as Yow ranges back and forth between gravely, almost hushed moaning and a wailing chorus of “the old windbag blows.” Goat starts with an unusual opener and, true to form, ends with an unusual closer. The Jesus Lizard are nothing if not an unusual band.
“Then Comes Dudley”
As opening tracks go, “Then Comes Dudley” is a strange one. Instead of grabbing your attention right out of the gate, it oozes and slithers along, with Duane Denison’s nauseous guitar line creating a lot of tension and foreboding. The pummeling drums and slippery bass don’t help much either. It all finally leads into David Yow’s howling vocals, which are mostly unintelligible. The lyrics themselves are fairly strange (“that woman’s crazy, she’s the mistress of a man who’s crazy too”, etc) but if you’re listening to the Jesus Lizard for the lyrics, I’d say you’re doing something wrong.
“Mouth Breather”
“Mouth Breather” is the scariest song about house-sitting ever recorded. Not that you’d be able to tell, between Yow’s wailing and Denison’s viciously fast guitar riff, but it’s actually a song about the dangers of asking stupid friends to watch over your house while you’re on vacation: “I leave my home, I leave it in the care of a friend, don’t get me wrong, he’s a nice guy, I like him just fine…but he’s a mouth breather.” Probably not the lyrics you’d expect from a song this wild.
“Nub”
The Jesus Lizard pay some homage to their Texan roots with “Nub”, a song which starts with a buzzsaw-like guitar riff played with a metal slide. They also sing in Spanish. Because, y’know…they can. Who’s gonna stop them? Who’s going to say ‘no’ to this song’s stomping drums and grinding rhythm? Not me, let me assure you.
“Seasick”
“Nauseous” is a great adjective to describe the Jesus Lizard’s music, so of course they need to have a song titled “Seasick”. The lyrics mostly consist of Yow yelling “I can swim!” or “I can’t swim” back and forth, while the song teeters between tense verse and wild, crashing choruses. The end effect is a song that sways and jerks like someone trying to handle the open seas in a tiny, tiny boat.
“Monkey Trick”
The album hits a high point on “Monkey Trick”, which serves as Goat’s grinding centerpiece of sorts. David Sims’ bass playing has never been stronger and the pulsing bassline he plays gives this song one hell of a backbone. Add in Denison’s fried guitar licks and occasional outburst of slashing chords and you’ve got a clear standout on a great album. The music is so good you barely even notice Yow’s desperate howling, which is quite a feat in and of itself.
“Karpis”
This track belongs to Duane Denison and his killer guitar trickery. The twisting, wiry lead riff he plays throughout most of this song makes “Karpis” one of the catchier tunes on Goat, but it also ratchets up to queasy tension and paranoia that seems virtually inherent in the Jesus Lizard’s music. The flailing chorus and strangely traditional bridge also help make this a great song.
“South Mouth”
The galloping “South Mouth” is one of the most direct songs on Goat, which is a nice reprieve after the deep-fried strangeness of everything that came before. Yow is at his most incomprehensible and the song’s lyrics, if you can even make them out, are equally bizarre and elliptical. Just what exactly does “hey sometimes we act like animals, hey sometimes we act like little girls” mean? Hell if I know.
“Lady Shoes”
I’ve already wasted the adjective “grinding” on a few of these other songs, but I have to drag it out again for “Lady Shoes” because it’s the only word that adequately describes this storm of blistering guitar, bass and intense screaming. This song might as well not have words, given how yelping Yow sounds. But, as with everything else on this album, it just rocks. No complaints from me.
“Rodeo In Joliet”
Goat’s last track is both much longer than anything else on the record and also much slower. It’s part of a rare breed of song that could possibly be described as a “Jesus Lizard ballad.” However, it doesn’t behave like most ballads do. Instead of heartfelt emotion and downplayed musicianship, it’s a five-minute saga of ringing guitar and carefully wielded vocal dynamics, as Yow ranges back and forth between gravely, almost hushed moaning and a wailing chorus of “the old windbag blows.” Goat starts with an unusual opener and, true to form, ends with an unusual closer. The Jesus Lizard are nothing if not an unusual band.
No comments:
Post a Comment