Down and Out, but Having Fun
author: Ken
Imagine Tom Waits & Throbbing Gristle had an aborted, bastard child and you'll start to get a sense of where Mr. Fist is coming from on this collection. This is low down, broken down and beaten down music with a razor sharp twist of acidic humor that keeps things from becoming morose or overbearing.
Things kick off with the low-fi clang of Poontang Pie, scratching into the room and sounding like some old, forgotten Edison music cylinder. The subject matter is obvious and delivered in the manner of an obscene phone call. After this brief introductory piece, the sound opens up into crystal clarity and we find ourselves swept up into a little folk waltz celebrating the abuses of married life. Here, Mr. Fist's voice mutates into a crusty old man with a terrible attitude towards his unfortunate spouse. Next up we move into some thumping blues riffs overlaid with a "fly" like buzzed guitar lead on Cock Suckin' Blues and things really start to get desperate. This track paints a stark picture of the "glory hole" scene and makes you feel like you should be hiding in the bushes.
The next set of tracks moves into what has been described as the "dead jazz" sound with Trash Talkin' taking thinks down to the depths of the gutter. The musical backing sounds like a tired and bored jazz band ready to fall off their stools while a frail, weak voice contemplates the possibilities hidden in the nearest trash heap. The lethargy of this track is next replaced by mournful howls of anguish over the state of some damaged footwear on Worn Out Shoe. The music swells with emotion and passion behind the vocals as they soar towards the dream of a decent pair of shoes. This triptych concludes with I'd Wash My Hands. Here, the sound is like the whole thing was recorded in a public restroom and even features background sounds of hand towel dispensers being used and what sounds like toilets flushing. This promise of hygiene proves effective at creating the mood of getting cleaned up at the local YMCA.
The next section opens with a seasonal ditty where the worst fears of the holidays come true for some poor soul who finds he's got Nothing For Christmas. There's a lonely fire crackling in the background, but it's probably outside and near a railroad track judging by the sound of the broken, choked vocals. The singer is accompanied by a sad guitar in tremolo despondency and sloppy drumming that seems to have given up on things as much as the singer. MF Machines then kicks in with an idiosyncratic bit of electronic drums and robot voices while Mr. Fist shifts into angry old man mode and struggles with the frustrations of dealing with modern technology. The old man motif continues with My Dog Is Dead which offers a plodding funeral dirge dedicated to "man's best friend". This must have been one amazing dog to illicit such a passionate expression of grief.
Marinade Death moves the album into a slightly different direction again and comes off like a cartoon version of Throbbing Gristle. The mood is somewhat ambient with a wall of violins providing the backdrop for a tale of under seasoned meat. Things then continue in an acoustic mode, but with a slight country & western flair on Walk this Earth and A Restless Wind. Both songs hint at ghost like scenes of walking the earth, disembodied and lost, for eternity. The instrumentation sounds like it was played by ghosts, seeming incidental and accidental while still maintaining some loose structure. A Restless Wind, in particular, sounds like a dust devil that blows eerily through the room and then vanishes into nothing just as quickly as it blew in.
The collection is then capped off with Momma Lied. Here Mr. Fist delves into the pain of childhood deception and displays a deep sense of betrayal while contemplating all those things that parents tell their children that aren't true. The music moves in a slow, deliberate blues configuration that adds weight to each phrase like a heavy foot coming down.
On the one hand, this might seem like the most depressing collection of songs you've ever heard and that's kinda true. It's all pretty bleak and soaked in debauchery, but the humor used throughout this set keeps things bright enough to be thoroughly entertaining and there's just a lot of good fun being had here, even if it is at the expense of some of the more disenfranchised at times. Through all the songs, there's an overriding sense of surrealism that makes the album seems almost psychedelic. There are always strange sounds lingering in the background and it's all a little off kilter.
Very strange indeed!
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