[Editor's Note: This is Norwood's first article for the Decibel Tolls. Welcome him, and let's avoid the normal flaming we have here on this fine music blog, nerds. Don't scare him off too soon, now.]
Last week, I was editing a chapter on garage rock for Piero Scaruffi’s revised rock catalog when I stumbled upon a band that begged me for my curiosity. One of the few reviews about this outhouse-rock group was written by Julian Cope (for one of his album of the month pieces). I skimmed through his review, finding the nihilistic mumbo-jumbo of rock gold more and more appetizing. The more I researched, the quicker I found out that my dear uncle Scott Derr was one of the contributing madmen. It’s a small world after all! Cope surely did a good job selling the band on paper, and now I had a blood connection. I thoroughly scanned the world wide web before finally unveiling the 24-karat cacophony that is Monoshock’s first, last and only LP, “Walk to the Fire.”
“Walk to the Fire” shows off the raw power of the Stooges, the improvisational debauchery of the Velvet Underground, and the schizophrenic swagger of Pere Ubu; all finely minced, thrown into a blender, and garnished with a bit of apocalyptic satisfaction. There’s just something about the amateurish indecency of “Walk to the Fire” that sounds strikingly original. This feeling of sordid wonder juxtaposed with frontman Grady Runyan’s aesthetic framework makes “Walk to the Fire” one of rock music’s most fascinating “Jekyll and Hyde” records. You could enjoy it because of its “no-fi” garage-punk sound, or because of its potent expeditions into the psychedelic avant-garde.
The record as a whole will blow your sails due south; whether your heading there or not. Made up of college buddies Grady Runyan (vocals, guitar, e-bow, violin), Scott Derr (vocals, bass, guitar, brass, blender), Rubin Fiberglass (drums, percussion, vocals) and Aluminum Queen (saxophone), Monoshock mixes sloppy proto-punk with sophisticated free-form experimentation. “Walk to the Fire” is simply another example of punk rock’s “Fuck it, I’m a teenager” ethos gone horribly right. Everything seems to go wrong on this record, and that’s the provocative beauty of Monoshock’s design. The chaotic mess of guitars, drums and orchestral instruments proves to be much more prophetic than ignorant. More singular than homogenous. And more honest than fraudulent. When listening, I often forget that running saxophones through oscillators, and aimlessly howlin’ away on brass isn’t the norm in rock music, but Monoshock does it with an unwavering conviction.
The opening track “Crypto-Zoological Disaster,” begins with a head bobbin’ Pere Ubu riff that steadily marches until it abruptly decomposes into a degenerative, DNA-like, orgy of half-conscious noise. After getting lost in the masochistic crescendo, Runyan and company come full-circle, bringing back the riff in a final tour de force.
“I Took You to it Baby,” Monoshock’s destructive ballad, features the group’s most conventionally catchy instrumentation. Fortunately for us, Runyan’s apathetic wailing combined with a belligerent, yet hummable, guitar melody makes you want to turn up the volume, pound the gas with your lead foot and flip the bird to the next copper you see on the open highway.
The almost primitivist “Astral Plane” sways back and forth like a drunk seaman, soon to be hanging over the ship’s railing in a sickening stupor. This uncanny, vaguely psychedelic sound appears all over “Walk to the Fire,” contributing to the record’s subtle hallucinogenic mystique. The track’s climax is marked by Derr’s disastrously fulfilling brass solo.
Monoshock’s “Walk to the Fire” will likely grab you by the neck, and wring you for every last penny. Sometimes being wrong feels oh so right.
MP3 :::
Monoshock – Astral Plane (Take Me)
Monoshock – I Took You To It, Baby
Monoshock – Leesa
