by Tom Hallett
Greetings, ’Dial-heads! Not gonna spout too much this time out, just takin’ a short time-out from the rigors of a heady Alaskan summer to hang with ya’ll, down a cold one, and see what condition my condition is in … Hey! At least I’m not promoting some wacked-out fried chicken franchise, or selling my name to a line of adult diapers aimed at bitter, bowel-challenged alcoholics. Yet. Yep, could be worse. Wait … no, that’s not it … it’s as good as can be today considering all the ins an’ outs, yesterday’s too late, an’ tomorrow ain’t even started yet, so back to that one-moment-to-another jump an’ jive, eh? Over the next few weeks, we’re gonna check out a plethora of fresh releases as well as a couple of albums I recently found languishing in the bottom of a beat-up cardboard box (along with four old safety pins, three pennies, approximately 17 granules of sugar, the torn, traumatized paper label from a long-ago sucked-dry bottle of Bud, a good-sized ball of grey pocket lint, and the empty, cracked plastic cassette case for a long-forgotten ’80s reissue of Lou Reed’s Berlin album) and haven’t had a spin ‘round the ol’ ‘Dial yet. Batten down the hatches, gather ‘round ye olde stereo, an’ hang onto yer hats …
QUOTE OF THE WEEK: “The waves have a story to tell me,
as I lie on the lonely beach/ Chanting aloft in the pine tops, the wind has
a lesson to teach …” – Robert Service
SONG OF THE WEEK: “Elizabeth Montgomery’s Face”
– Todd Newman
Tuesday’s
Robot
Self-Titled
2006
Self-Released
If the band’s name, the monikers of the two members (Robot and Android),
and the bizarre, nihilistic album cover don’t tip ya off that these local
guys might be a bit off the beaten path (musically speaking, of course, yuk
yuk yuk), then the liner notes revealing that it was “produced by Grain
Belt Premium” might seal the deal. Not that there’s anything wrong
with that, you understand. If ACTUAL robots pretending to be human (y’know
my faves to pick on, the Britneys, Whitneys and Shanias of the world) can do
their thing, why can’t a couple of red-blooded, fucked-up, wild-eyed humans
pretend to be robots and androids? AHHHGGHH!! It’s sometimes all too much
to bear … must … get … to … stereo … turn tunes
up … LOUD!!
Ahhh … that’s better, eh? Now I can’t hear anything but the
dulcet strains of Tuesday’s
Robot and the comforting crackle of my about-to-shit-out-on-me left speaker.
I feel at home, even if the walls of this particular waiting room are a bit
sterile and cold at first contact. Ohhh! THAT’S why the band wanted to
have “Another Cup Of Tea ...” Throw in some Xanax an’ a few
mg’s of opiates an’ you’ve got a deal, Lucille. What’s
your aura, Dora? Oops, gettin’ off track again, gonna start the lead cut
over …
“Another Cup Of Tea” is an in-your-face, no-bullshit love ditty,
Robot comin’ off like ‘65-era Dylan with a few guarded Roger McGuinn-isms
and more than a spoonful of glittery ‘70s pop attitude thrown in for good
measure. Bottom line, it’s a catchy, powerful intro to an album that I
really, really, really wanted to hate at first sight. Nothing personal, I was
just afeared that ol’ humor schtick was fixin’ to wallop me over
the head again … no worries, Robot and Android may have overactive imaginations
when it comes to presenting their work, but that work is viable, professional,
REAL, and more human than human.
“And Then There Was Ruth,” my personal fave, is a spine-tingling,
goose-flesh-inducing wamma-jamma of a love song, fired by Grain Belt an’
held together loosely by spit, rust and scabs torn from heart-shaped chest wounds.
“Constitution Blues” lives up to the innuendo in its name, in every
possible way, right down to the castigation of Guantanamo Bay, Bible-thumpers
(“… some people don’t read it the same/ Well, they’re
killin’ in Jesus’ name …”), television, prejudice, homophobia,
mindless violence, needless cruelty, greed an’ a slew of other modern-day
blights on society. The music is visceral, haunting and complex on one level,
airy, light and deceptively simple on another—a further clue that these
ain’t yer average white-boy blues monkeys, thank Christ, Buddha, Mohammed
or any other long-dead male godhead figures currently tuned in to Radio HMAN
up there in the ol’ cosmos …
They’re
all good, solid songs, but I’d be remiss to not give a bit of ink to the
nine-and-a-half-minute opus “Xmas Day Revisited” (I, as well, enjoy
revisiting things, especially in music, and, well, how could you POSSIBLY emulate
Bob Dylan without (A) Covering the three main points of this track—it’s
almost 10 minutes long, contains original, socially-aware content, and of course,
revisits that ol’ “revisiting” thang—and (B), Singin’
through yer nose?), which at first listen seems almost impenetrable but soon
morphs into a riveting bedside horror story retold for the umpteenth time but
somehow different, new, exciting and strange …
Naw, it don’t matter. It’s not really like a Dylan song other than
those points—and the fact that, thanks to Bob himself, I’ll always
hear echoes of his work in this style and presentation. Is it a good tune? Yeah,
it is. Will I play it over an’ over? Naw. Not anymore than I do “Sad-Eyed
Lady Of The Low-Lands” (she gets pulled outta her vinyl nightie once or
twice a year, given a randy toss in the old hay and carefully returned to her
cardboard nest) or the double-edged sword that is Roger Hodgson’s “Sleeping
With The Enemy.” Either way, I am genuinely glad I heard it: I’ll
use it on a few Xmas mix CDs next year, and you can decide for yourselves if
you wanna jam it in yer space or not.
When all is said and done, it
doesn’t really matter whether this album and these songs were penned 40
years ago or last week, or if the writer is Jewish or Christian, or Republican
or Democrat, male or female, gay or straight, or if they’re black or white,
or if they really know what “The Blues” is any more than I or anybody
else really do, or if they’re rich kids or wrong side of the track-ers,
sinners or saints, poets, prophets or madmen. I have fun imagining they’re
all of the above at different sections of the album.
What matters here is that this music is REAL, universal, honest, frank, forthright,
fun, challenging, and leaves the listener with not only a sense of contentment
and well-being, but also leaves a goodly portion of its lyrical wealth ensconced
in his or her noggin, to be used at a later date. That’s Tuesday’s
Robot. Sell by … as soon as humanly possible. Check ‘em out at www.tuesdaysrobot.com.
There’s the rub for this week, friends, knee-knockers, back-stabbers,
monkey-backers, an’ slap-happy, dirty faced barn-burners … tune
in again next time out for more of the same. Until then—make yer own damn
news.
If you have local music gigs/events/CDs you’d like to see mentioned in
this space, or you just have to share your own personal robot/android fantasy,
send replies to: Tmygunn77764@yahoo.com.
||
|