Though popular music and humor (of the biting satire type) have grown by leaps and bounds during the same time period, many artists seem loathe to mix them.
Most radio listeners think of pop satirist "Weird Al" Yankovic when they link the two art forms, but many young bands (especially New York's They Might Be Giants) have put the funny where their mouths are, creating a new music style that could be referred to as pop whimsy.Some new releases spotlight three relative newcomers that aren't afraid to let their funnybones show through, blending sharp musical hooks with often sarcastic, yet insightful (and inciting) personal and political statements.
THE DEAD MILKMEN; "Metaphysical Graffiti" (Enigma Records); produced by Brian Beattie and the Dead Milkmen. ***
Philadelphia's Dead Milkmen have been riding the crest of college radio success from their 1984 single "Bitchin' Camaro," and each subsequent album has had more chart success than its predecessor.
But does this mean that the quartet's been soft-pedaling its anti-authoritarian philosophies or "milking" success from their unique "sarcasta-billy" or "scruff-rock" sound?
Hardly. The four punk-popsters (or is that pop-punksters?) still dare to be snide on any subject, and no pop idol is safe from their acidic and acerbic observations.
Much like their 1987 college radio smash "Instant Club Hit (You'll Dance to Anything)" mocked the mindless dance club drones who danced to it while not considering the content, their fifth studio album (the title of which mocks the Led Zeppelin LP "Physical Graffiti") features the band's signature slams - this time directed toward Edie Brickell ("Now Everybody's Me"), everyone's least favorite '50s throwbacks ("In Praise of Sha Na Na") and rock dinosaurs..
Besides those three cruel masterpieces, the album is a bit schizophrenic, as a takeoff on '60s funk- and R&B-inspired dance crazes ("Do the Brown Nose") immediately precedes the surprisingly sweet and loony pop number "Dollar Signs in Her Eyes."
Vocalist Rodney Cosloy Anonymous' move to keyboards has freed up guitarist Joe Jack Talcum to sing some of the band's more pop-flavored numbers (as compared to Anonymous' regular gruff numbers). Fortunately, the gems on the album far outshine the clinkers.
*****
THE CRAZY 8's; "Doggapotamus World" (Red Rum Records); produced by the Crazy 8's. ***
Anyone who's ever seen this racially mixed seven-piece unit in any of its semi-regular Zephyr Club appearances can testify that the band's mix of reggae, ska, soul, funk, pop and rock can really move an audience.
However, only the band's first studio album, 1984's "Law and Order," and the live "Big Live Nut Pack" actually translated some of the band's manic energy into vinyl energy, which might account for why the band has picked up a terrific club reputation but still doesn't have a major record label deal.
Also, allegedly, some record executives have asked the band to make its sound more accessible and to sound more like Oingo Boingo (vocalist Todd Duncan already bears a singing resemblance to OB's Danny Elfman), but that's something the Crazy 8's are reluctant to do.
Fortunately, the band has broken that streak with its fourth studio album, which took some three years in the making.
The wait was worth it, as all seven band members contributed to the songwriting, and it's a cohesive, though not totally coherent effort.
For example, each member seems to have a different idea of which direction the band should take, so ballads are mixed with rollicking dance numbers and hot instrumentals.
Duncan - who also plays alto sax - is the band's most prolific songwriter, composing six songs alone and collaborating on a seventh, the funky "All Said and Done," with baritone and tenor sax player Danny Schauffler.
His "Find Myself a Sunny Spot," which utilizes a ska arrangement (including Tim Tubb's trombone blares), shows the band at its best: a batch of strong musicians who can shake the Wasatch Fault with no problem.
*****
YOUNG FRESH FELLOWS; "This One's For the Ladies" (Frontier/Pop Llama Records); produced by Conrad Uno. ***1/2
Though this Seattle quartet is still highly anonymous to most music listeners, their sound has inspired many young pop bands (including They Might Be Giants, which paid homage to the band on its "Flood" album).
Their anonymity's a pity, too, since all four band members are successful businessmen outside the group, and they record albums for the sheer pleasure of it.
The Fellows' fifth studio album has the band recovering from the minor disappointment of its aptly titled 1987 album "Totally Lost" and trying to recapture the crisp pop hooks that made the group sound, well, fresh.
The title track, a rousing rocker featuring splintered guitar squeals from Kurt Bloch (replacing longtime stalwart Chuck Carroll), pays tribute to the women "who wait for us after the shows," vocalist Scott McCaughey hoarsely proclaims.
But the band is not filled with misogynists and doesn't treat women as sex objects (check out "Deep Down and Inbetween" and "When I'm Lonely Again" for surprising sensitivity).
The Fellows even show good taste with their tribute to dadaist comic book hero the Flaming Carrot ("Carrot Head").
But best of all is the album's first single, "Picture Book," which pokes fun at family scrapbooks and vacation pictures without getting too downright mean about it, and "The Family Gun," which is surprisingly forthright in its gun control message: "Peace on earth, good will to everyone/My brother, my sister and the family gun."
Throughout, the band manages to punch up the arrangements as never before, and they've never sounded better. It's a terrific album, reassuring one that creativity still exists in today's pop music.