Published on Nov 12, 1999
Back in the early ’90s, “Weird Al” Yankovic was hurting. His
movie
UHF was a critical failure (though it was slowly on its way
to becoming a cult favorite, thanks to machine-gum airings by
Comedy Central), and musically, he seemed at a standstill. He
needed a new target for his unique brand of satire besides Michael
Jackson.
Enter Nirvana in 1992 — and with them would come Yankovic’s
“comeback” (though he hates that word) album
Off The Deep End, an album which re-affirmed his place as
one of this generation’s leading satirists. It’s only been seven
years since this disc was released, and while every single group he
parodied (not counting the “medley”) has gone the way of the
passenger pigeon, the material still sounds fresh.
The highlight for me on this disc, ironically, isn’t a parody;
rather, it’s a Yankovic original, “You Don’t Love Me Anymore.” A
tale of love that has run its course, Yankovic questions the, aah,
“actions” of his inamorata. (Almost sounds like the woman in the
song was a relative of Lorena Bobbitt.) No matter how many times I
listen to this song, it’s guaranteed to at least put a smile on my
face, if not put me on the floor in hysterics. Likewise, “Trigger
Happy” is a powerful original that, at least at one time, would
have been hilarious. (Unfortunately, with the outbreak of gun
violence these days, jokes about guns and an itchy trigger finger
might not seem funny to some people — but at least Yankovic means
no malice towards anyone.)
In fact, it’s strange to admit, but the originals on
Off The Deep End actually are, at times, stronger than the
parodies. I mean, I love the slam against television and M.C.
Hammer with “I Can’t Watch This,” and “Smells Like Nirvana” has its
charms. But a few others sound a bit forced. “The White Stuff”
dares to bring New Kids On The Block back to the forefront, even if
it’s only for target practice; regrettably, Yankovic’s ode to the
Oreo just doesn’t have the kind of punch one would come to expect
from him. Same goes with “The Plumbing Song” — and, let’s face it,
parodying Milli Vanilli is kind of like hitting below the belt with
an 18-pound sledgehammer.
Even there, a few of the originals aren’t always of the same
caliber as the powerful material. “Airline Amy” is a decent enough
song, but it’s definitely not as strong a cut as, say, “Trigger
Happy.” “I Was Only Joking” attempts to be madcap a la Spike Jones,
but it falls a little short, albeit not by much.
One song which grew on me was “Taco Grande,” a parody of
Gerardo’s “Rico Suave.” It’s kind of interesting to hear Yankovic’s
rapid-fire, Speedy Gonzalez-like delivery and dry humor regarding
Mexican food. What might go unnoticed is a brief cameo from Cheech
Marin, which really doesn’t add too much to the song.
The one thing I’ll call Yankovic on the carpet for is the
“hidden” track that plays 10 minutes after the final fade-out of
“You Don’t Love Me Anymore.” All it’s comprised of is about three
seconds of primal screaming, and if you’re not expecting it, it’s
going to scare the hell out of you. But I’m getting sick of sitting
through minutes of silence to get to this stuff — and I’m sorry,
but Yankovic’s no exception.
Off The Deep End could be seen as Yankovic getting his
“parody sea legs” back, but there’s no denying his original
material was good fun on this one. The parodies might have been a
bit hit-and-miss, but overall this album was a nice “welcome back”
from one of comedy’s favorite sons.