Published on Jul 15, 2005
Like most of us on the fringes of the music scene, I have
wondered a few times what I might call a band foolish enough to let
me be a member. “The Suckers” is probably taken. But given my
aversion to shock-rock, I sincerely doubt I’d go the gross-out
route. I really don’t want the first thing people think when they
hear my stage name to be: “Yuck.”
Which was pretty much my reaction when I first saw the name
Pinkeye D’Gekko. What I found inside, though, was at least more
intriguing than the name might lead you to expect.
Pinkeye is a sharp five-man ensemble led by
singer/songwriter/producer Steve Richards Mahoney, whose approach
to music is sufficiently chameleon-like to give some truth to the
latter half of this group’s name. My impression based on the first
four tracks here was Molly Hatchet and Elvin Bishop throwing a
party for Meat Loaf — greasy Southern boogie rock with a flair for
theatrics, and respectably well done at that.
But then we get to “Call Me Adolf During Wartime,” which sounds
vaguely, disturbingly, like a lost Marilyn Manson number…
followed by “The Poet,” a freaky Moody Blues-Dionne Warwick
mind-meld… followed by “See You Again,” cheeky power-pop
that seems to be trying to answer the question “what if Nick Lowe
joined the Monkees?”
By the time I got to the Stonesy country-rock of “Listen In
Love” (think “Tumbling Dice” with an acid twist) and “Slow Down,”
an homage to early rock and roll that’s fueled by the spirit of
Bill Haley & the Comets, I was scratching my head. I admire
musical versatility as much as the next guy, but what’s the thread
running through these songs that ties them all together?
In the liner notes, Mahoney says all his songs are about “God
and women,” and I’ve read an interview or two where he expands on
this thought. But truly, it’s a reach to detect the spiritual
undercurrents Mahoney claims are there until you get to the closing
trio of “Have U Seen The Genie,” “The Velvet Fizz” and “Missing.”
The rest of the time, the clearest thread I see is pure showmanship
— as in, “look what we can do.”
Is it impressive? Mostly. Fulfilling? Moderately. Memorable? Not
exactly. To these ears, this is a collection of pretty decent songs
that don’t quite add up. What these guys appear to need — besides
a name that doesn’t immediately make people want to call their
pharmacist — is an outside producer to help give their ideas and
energy better focus.
Not that I would expect my opinion to have much impact on any
band, let alone one that leads with this much flash and confidence
(and, I understand, just scored an opening slot with Lynyrd Skynyrd
this summer). I just call ’em like I hear ’em. As Jimmy Buffett
once said, “It’s my job…”