“
Hmm. Mr Du Monte, I fear you are taking your attentions to this lady far too seriously.
“
Hmm. Mr Du Monte, I fear you are taking your attentions to this lady far too seriously.
A fuzzy riff sets the scene for “Dead Airline Ticket” a song where Vic Du Monte bemoans his ill luck over some social situation (I bet it involves a girl), in a throaty, wailing delivery that is the epitome of frustration itself. Fantastic and far too short. We don’t have much time to draw breath for we now canter into “Jolene” the introduction to which briefly nicks the wobbly noise off the first 13th Floor Elevators lp to set up a love-lorn yowlathon. Lyrically, it’s not very obtuse in it’s observation of lust; “I’d walk on a mile through broken glass just to suck the cock that fucked her last”. Hmm. Mr Du Monte, I fear you are taking your attentions to this lady far too seriously. (He’s desperate in other words)…
“Casablanca” rumbles round like a bellyache in a stew of its own hungover melancholy, a track that’s still strangely innocent sounding, despite its veneer of bar room and cattle ranch hardness.
“Company Man” is a great scuzzy pop song; and, although it’s a bitter tirade against the foibles of the music industry, and a song that deliberately draws on 60s garage band heritage, (especially reminiscent of the Litter); it’s incredibly adolescent and funny. This overriding feeling of innocence is also brought out in “Dream of a Girl” (no-one has had a title like that since about 1957) which is a collection of surging guitar riffs and squalls underpinned by a candy store organ line.
“Death and Man” (hang on, is this Albert Camus’ band or something?) is the stand out song on the album. Essentially, it’s a great plot line; a low life love story (in the style of, may I for one moment pretentiously mention Tennessee Williams?) nicely set up by stripped back guitar arrangements and a band more concerned with creating a space to suit a longer song (normally the tracks on this lp are about two minutes in length). After that comes “Sex at Knifepoint” which, (maybe like the real thing, sex at knifepoint that is), is all too quickly finished after a great display of initial promise.
“Worrying Won’t Do” is a classic mid 60s rocker, very reminiscent of Them or the Animals in their more wig-out moments. Du Monte really belts this out, giving it all he’s got. Something that’s not often heard these days (outside of Mr. Cave’s oeuvre that is) is a bit of raw emotion, and it’s welcome.
Time for the one irreducably silly song on the album, “County Cage”, a lament (reminiscent of Mr Cash’s more maudlin moments) over a shooting that doesn’t sit quite right; oh, bother, I’ll cut to the chase here and address the protagonist in person. Mr. Du Monte, you are far too nice to have shot your wife, let alone twice. Luckily this piece of daftness is blown away “Connelly