I’m sorry I didn’t post anything yesterday, especially considering what day it was. But unfortunately, I wasn’t in the best of moods, and so I didn’t want that to affect the “quality” of my writing, if any. So, anyhaps, today I’m reviewing the album Duck Stab, by that very strange band, The Residents. Really, I’ve been meaning to do a post focusing on them for a while now, since they fit all the criteria for a blog such as this. However, the problem is that I’m just not ready yet. The Residents have been around for decades now, and have produced around a hundred albums. I’ve barely scratched the surface. Which is why I’ve instead chosen to just focus my attention on just one of their albums for now. This is a combination of two seven-song EPs, Duck Stab and Buster and Glen, and is considered to be one of their most accessible works. According to them, it contains “tunes to whistle, beats to snap your toes to, and quick witted cleverness that ties your little brain in square knots”. Indeed.
I think that this album is a good introduction for those who’ve never listened to anything by The Residents before. The songs are short and incredibly catchy, while giving up none of their incredible weirdness or artistic integrity. From a good many of these songs, I get the impression of some sort of collection of warped and distorted childhood memories, nursery rhymes and sideshow songs. Now, I know full well that music such as that has been done to death, but not in the way that The Residents do it. This album, like the novel The Third Policeman, could be seen as an unnerving combination of surreal comedy and surreal horror. There is a kind of Pythonesque silliness in their nonsensical lyrics, but they transform into something out of a fever-induced nightmare when put to cacaphonous music and sung by that member with his harsh, whispery voice, like that of a deranged Country and Western singer. (I do not know his name, since all of the members prefer to remain anonymous.)
To be perfectly honest, I don’t think I’d really be able to interpret most of the songs on this magnificent album. The first one, Constantinople, seems to me like it’s about somebody who’s about to die and is prepared to meet the fate that awaits him, and I think the afterlife, without fear. I’m most likely dead wrong about that, tho’. Also, I think that the title of the song Bach is Dead most likely referring to Nietszche’s famous theory that God is dead. So, mayhaps, they think music is dead? I dunno. But really, even if they are just nonsense-songs, that doesn’t make them any less important. People seem to forget that a work of imagination is art in its own right and doesn’t really need to mean anything in order to have depth. Also, what you must remember is that The Residents are genii in conveying and/or making us understand/experience emotions through their music. And this is mainly what music is all about. Songs are pure emotion in a near-tangible form. My favourites on this album are Hello Skinny (one of their first songs I ever heard), Blue Rosebuds, Lizard Lady and The Electrocutioner. That last one is probably the most interesting, because while it starts off as unsettling and creepy (and sung in a Daffy Duck-esque voice, I may add), its second half is almost like a completely different song. It becomes very sad, regretful and introspective. One might think that this is something which The Residents wouldn’t exactly excell at, but here one would be wrong. In fact, another of their albums, Demons Dance Alone, is their emotional response to 9/11 and contains some of the most heartbreaking songs I have ever heard.
Oh, and if you like blogs about the strange and unusual, check out The Asylum Attendant. 😉 I love it!
[…] Duck Stab (manbehindthecurtain.ie) […]
[…] Duck Stab (manbehindthecurtain.ie) […]
[…] Duck Stab (manbehindthecurtain.ie) […]