The Minutemen made punk rock that sounded like overheard conversation, with brief, angular song fragments flowing together in thew rhythm of babble. Guitarist/ vocalist D. Boon, bassist Mike Watt, and drummer George Hurley mixed and matched these fragments with the surgical precision of beboppers, splicing their hardcore rant with folkie didding and jazz skronk. But they never sounded arch about it; their songs were earthy and almost always funny, the handiwork of three regular corndogs from San Pedro, lifelong friends who wore ugly black computer watches and didn't worry about their cholesterol intake. They accepted propaganda into their conversational mix because it was part of their language, and they let their fragmentary rhythms dramatize the chaos and internal contradictions of their propaganda. Their music always generated its own chatty energy, from Boon's guitar blurts to lyrics like "Force-fed sifted tin can turn handle puppet (pull toy)."
Double Nickels on the Dime is overkill at its most humane, pilling on the babble, cracking jokes, submerging intense musical climaxes into the "Spillage" of urban routine. The Minutemen haven't gotten the hang of writing songs about other people ("Jesus and Tequila" is facile satire worthy of Joe Jackson), but they nail down the details of their own lives, whether it's the rage of "This Ain't No Picnic," the loneliness of "Storm in My House," or, most importantly, the loyal fellowship of "History Lesson (Part II)." The splendidly titled "Do You Want New Wave (Or Do You Want the Truth?)" (answer:yes) admits the role of doubt and confusion in their politics, and when Boon sings "fuck advertising," it sounds like "fuck Eric Clapton." A jovial masterpiece that made its own unique place in a season that also produced
Zen Arcade,
Let It Be, and
Meat Puppets II.
1 comments:
YA! this is so wicked, Great taste my friend.
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