Published on Dec 1, 1999
Each year, I get swamped with discs that, for one reason or
another, get temporarily shelved until near the end of the year,
when the release calendar slows down for the holidays and I begin
to panic that I’ve got so much shit to listen to before January —
most of which I requested in the first place. It’s also usually
about this time that I get calls from publicists who have been, to
that point, very patient with me — but their patience begins to
run thin, and they want to know when I’m gonna get off my ass and
actually review their artists.
Such was the case with
Anatomy, the latest disc from Stan Ridgway. While my
intentions of getting to the disc were good, it got shelved in
favor of other artists — some from the same publicist, others that
came in the mail and that I was absolutely drooling over. Finally,
after a couple of calls from the publicist’s office (I believe the
gentleman’s name was Kumar — sorry if I’ve botched the spelling),
I finally switched around some discs and popped
Anatomy into the player.
Well, Kumar, if you’re reading – I’m offering to fly you to
Chicago to beat me over the head with a Louisville Slugger —
repeatedly — for not getting to this disc sooner. Not only is
Anatomy an incredible disc, it could damn well be the best
thing I’ve listened to all year — and I feel incredibly stupid for
not getting to it sooner.
Chances are, the moment you hear Ridgway sing, you’re gonna say
to yourself, “I’ve heard this guy before.” Good memory, Sparky —
Ridgway was the unique voice behind Wall Of Voodoo and their quirky
hit “Mexican Radio”. What
Anatomy does is not only puts aside the thought that Ridgway
can only write goofy songs, but also establishes him as a very
serious songwriter who nurtures his craft carefully.
Oh, there’s still tinges of sinister nature in Ridgway’s
songwriting, as evidenced in “Valerie Is Sleeping”. And while
there’s still a twisted sense of humor in Ridgway’s songwriting,
often he balances it with a more serious message, as on “Mama Had A
Stove”: “And mama raised us up / To never tell a lie / Except when
there’s a secret / Where the neighbors tend to pry.” Ka-pow.
Musically,
Anatomy shines just as bright. Although you know that
“Murray’s Steakhouse Story” is only 68 seconds long, you find
yourself expecting the track to just burst forth into something
even more spectacular than what you’re hearing. (It does — only it
happens on “Susie Before Sunrise.”) If a simple instrumental can
make you feel that excited, you can imagine how the bulk of this
album is.
Even on the more serious tracks like “Picasso’s Tear” and “Train
Of Thought”, as well as the cover of Merle Travis’s “Sixteen Tons,”
Ridgway makes sure that the ride he takes the listener on is
exciting enough to make them want to get back in line for more.
And, brother, you’re gonna want a whole lot more.
But wait, there
is more – joy! If you throw this disc in your computer and
load the Liquid Audio player, you’re treated to three live tracks
from an EP that Ridgway recorded in 1991. Why he chose to go this
route rather than actually add them to the CD proper, I don’t know,
but it’s well worth loading a player that I don’t normally use.
“Camouflage” is a re-telling of a tale often used in ’50s “death”
music, but is so powerful because you don’t expect it to turn into
such a track. And the humor of “I Wanna Be A Boss” – hell,
I’d work for such a guy.
Ridgway has successfully erased the ghosts of his musical past
with
Anatomy, and has created an album that captures the man and
his craft perfectly. If you take a chance on only one album this
year, search this one out — you will not be disappointed.