The Floating World: Let's Face It
It's been a while, but between cramming as much time with K. as possible and then the digital recorder blowing up I just haven't been able/wanted to write anything more than my commitments require. Which is funny, because I haven't stopped having things I want to write about. But I'm finally spending the night writing rather than slaying evil in Diablo 2 or reading, so it's time to stretch those prose muscles again.
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There is a very specific pleasure in revisiting the things you loved in your youth and finding they have lived up to your memory - or more aptly, that your younger self's taste has at last partially lived up to your current self. When K. was getting ready to leave the country she was kept busy ripping a wholw bunch of my CDs, and she also borrowed about 20 from Ben to grab. It was that load that caused me to encounter the excellent My Chemical Romance record I raved about on Stylus recently.
Also in that load was the Mighty Mighty Bosstones' Let's Face It album. I remembered really loving "The Impression That I Get" as a kid, and being favorably impressed with the whole disc when I borrowed it from Ben on a car trip. Originally I was just going to write about "The Impression That I Get", but upon rediscovering the album I found the rest of it is just too good to be ignored.
It is, first and foremost, the Bosstones' Madness album. I remember Ben also owned a certain Madness compilation that had gravel-throated Bosstones singer Dickie Barrett writing the liner notes, and their influence on the Bosstones was never clearer than here. Yes, the heavier punk influence is still all over the record (especially on "That Bug Bit Me", "Nevermind Me", "Desensitized", and so on), but not only is the noise toned down for a series of horn-led ska numbers but the lyrics are Barrett's leanest, most socially aware set. The title track is a great example; yeas, it's another song decrying bigotry, but listen to the chorus:
Let's try to erase it
It's time that we faced it
If we don't than who will? Shame on us
Although the song doesn't suggest that either the band or its fans are racists or homophobes, it does correctly identify the concern that no matter how high-minded Barrett or his like are, unless they back up their words with actions nothing changes.
Even more striking than this, though, is the number of songs on which Barrett, counter to the stereotype in punk, freely admits doubt, guilt and weakness. "The Impression That I Get" is the most striking example; it's a song about nothing more than thanking luck and grace that you've never been in a really bad situation. Barrett isn't hectoring the listener to be thankful for their luck, while still projecting the idea that he's a badass (as punk tends to do), he freely admits his own uncertainty:
I’m not a coward, I’ve just never been tested
I’d like to think that if I was I would pass
Look at the tested and think there but for the grace go I
Might be a coward, I’m afraid of what I might find out
I’ve never had to knock on wood
But I know someone who has
Which makes me wonder if I could
It makes me wonder if
I’ve never had to knock on wood
And I’m glad I haven’t yet
Because I’m sure it isn’t good
That’s the impression that I get
It's a far more honest song than most of its ilk, and to boot one that when the album went platinum had a message that teenagers slinking through high school could actually relate to. Plus (and this is the most important thing), it's a great fucking song. The horns really earn their keep, and it's perfectly pitched between the anthemic and the catchy. All of the songs here are stripped down to the bare essentials (even the slightly dubbed-out "Another Drinking Song"), the album rocketing past in just over thirty minutes. There's a sharp cogency to the song lyrics and humility that's pretty rare in the lesser bands of this type (even look at the asides in "That Bug Bit Me", which could be about music, drugs or love - "It's bitten bigger badder bastards than the one I am").
Examples continue to abound: "Nevermind Me" is about getting rolled by a junkie for drug money, and feeling bad about it; not because of the loss of material possessions ("What is gone I won't miss or I'll replace"), but for his assailent. "Another Drinking Song" again refuses to avoid blame - the character telling the story may claim "What you call the disease I call the cure", but the way the story is told makes it perfectly clear both that he's wrong and that as long as he continues to delude himself he can't get better. "Numbered Days" may be the portrait of a violent thug getting his just desserts, but there's still room for pity when he breaks down and cries after his buddies show up only to testify against him. The roaring "Desensitized" and "Break So Easily" are less specific but again they speak not of braggadocio but of fragility and culpability; "Desensitized" even expands outwards to address our increasing powerlessness over the big events ("Recently I think I heard/It could have been avoided/It shouldn’t have occurred").
But of course, this is also a fun little LP. The skanking "Royal Oil" may be a anti-drug song, but it's got a pretty indelible chorus, and "Noise Brigade", "The Rascal King" and "1-2-8" are more about the sound than anything. And like Madness, even on the more serious songs the thought doesn't get in the way of the beat. As mentioned, the horns that are all over the place punch up the sound considerably, and Barrett and his fellow songwriters know their way around a chorus.
It was the fun I remembered from my teen years, but it's the depth that's impressed me so much this time out. The Mighty Mighty Bosstones manage to speak to personal responsability without ever lapsing into preaching; at worst they're a bit obvious ("Royal Oil"), and at their best, whether the undeniable "The Impression That I Get" or the rather chilling "Nevermind Me" ("He seemed to hate what he was doing") these are some of the best songs of their era and a fitting successor to Madness.
I'm pretty sure much of what we were listening to at the time won't hold up as well as Let's Face It does, but I don't need it to. Discovering one bit of my past that's better than I remembered is more than enough for now.
-----
There is a very specific pleasure in revisiting the things you loved in your youth and finding they have lived up to your memory - or more aptly, that your younger self's taste has at last partially lived up to your current self. When K. was getting ready to leave the country she was kept busy ripping a wholw bunch of my CDs, and she also borrowed about 20 from Ben to grab. It was that load that caused me to encounter the excellent My Chemical Romance record I raved about on Stylus recently.
Also in that load was the Mighty Mighty Bosstones' Let's Face It album. I remembered really loving "The Impression That I Get" as a kid, and being favorably impressed with the whole disc when I borrowed it from Ben on a car trip. Originally I was just going to write about "The Impression That I Get", but upon rediscovering the album I found the rest of it is just too good to be ignored.
It is, first and foremost, the Bosstones' Madness album. I remember Ben also owned a certain Madness compilation that had gravel-throated Bosstones singer Dickie Barrett writing the liner notes, and their influence on the Bosstones was never clearer than here. Yes, the heavier punk influence is still all over the record (especially on "That Bug Bit Me", "Nevermind Me", "Desensitized", and so on), but not only is the noise toned down for a series of horn-led ska numbers but the lyrics are Barrett's leanest, most socially aware set. The title track is a great example; yeas, it's another song decrying bigotry, but listen to the chorus:
Let's try to erase it
It's time that we faced it
If we don't than who will? Shame on us
Although the song doesn't suggest that either the band or its fans are racists or homophobes, it does correctly identify the concern that no matter how high-minded Barrett or his like are, unless they back up their words with actions nothing changes.
Even more striking than this, though, is the number of songs on which Barrett, counter to the stereotype in punk, freely admits doubt, guilt and weakness. "The Impression That I Get" is the most striking example; it's a song about nothing more than thanking luck and grace that you've never been in a really bad situation. Barrett isn't hectoring the listener to be thankful for their luck, while still projecting the idea that he's a badass (as punk tends to do), he freely admits his own uncertainty:
I’m not a coward, I’ve just never been tested
I’d like to think that if I was I would pass
Look at the tested and think there but for the grace go I
Might be a coward, I’m afraid of what I might find out
I’ve never had to knock on wood
But I know someone who has
Which makes me wonder if I could
It makes me wonder if
I’ve never had to knock on wood
And I’m glad I haven’t yet
Because I’m sure it isn’t good
That’s the impression that I get
It's a far more honest song than most of its ilk, and to boot one that when the album went platinum had a message that teenagers slinking through high school could actually relate to. Plus (and this is the most important thing), it's a great fucking song. The horns really earn their keep, and it's perfectly pitched between the anthemic and the catchy. All of the songs here are stripped down to the bare essentials (even the slightly dubbed-out "Another Drinking Song"), the album rocketing past in just over thirty minutes. There's a sharp cogency to the song lyrics and humility that's pretty rare in the lesser bands of this type (even look at the asides in "That Bug Bit Me", which could be about music, drugs or love - "It's bitten bigger badder bastards than the one I am").
Examples continue to abound: "Nevermind Me" is about getting rolled by a junkie for drug money, and feeling bad about it; not because of the loss of material possessions ("What is gone I won't miss or I'll replace"), but for his assailent. "Another Drinking Song" again refuses to avoid blame - the character telling the story may claim "What you call the disease I call the cure", but the way the story is told makes it perfectly clear both that he's wrong and that as long as he continues to delude himself he can't get better. "Numbered Days" may be the portrait of a violent thug getting his just desserts, but there's still room for pity when he breaks down and cries after his buddies show up only to testify against him. The roaring "Desensitized" and "Break So Easily" are less specific but again they speak not of braggadocio but of fragility and culpability; "Desensitized" even expands outwards to address our increasing powerlessness over the big events ("Recently I think I heard/It could have been avoided/It shouldn’t have occurred").
But of course, this is also a fun little LP. The skanking "Royal Oil" may be a anti-drug song, but it's got a pretty indelible chorus, and "Noise Brigade", "The Rascal King" and "1-2-8" are more about the sound than anything. And like Madness, even on the more serious songs the thought doesn't get in the way of the beat. As mentioned, the horns that are all over the place punch up the sound considerably, and Barrett and his fellow songwriters know their way around a chorus.
It was the fun I remembered from my teen years, but it's the depth that's impressed me so much this time out. The Mighty Mighty Bosstones manage to speak to personal responsability without ever lapsing into preaching; at worst they're a bit obvious ("Royal Oil"), and at their best, whether the undeniable "The Impression That I Get" or the rather chilling "Nevermind Me" ("He seemed to hate what he was doing") these are some of the best songs of their era and a fitting successor to Madness.
I'm pretty sure much of what we were listening to at the time won't hold up as well as Let's Face It does, but I don't need it to. Discovering one bit of my past that's better than I remembered is more than enough for now.
