Published on Dec 13, 1997
311 is the Ed Wood of the alternative world. Critics hate ’em,
and after listening to
Transistor, I can see why. But their enthusiasm for what
they’re doing is contagious. They’re never going to be in the same
realm as the Red Hot Chili Peppers or even Rancid, but their love
for music is as strong as their love for pot, for which they even
thank in their liner notes.
No doubt
Transistor is a fine soundtrack for the 1990s Dorm Nation.
Fraternities and dorm hallways boom “Prisoner” and “Rub A Dub” from
their speakers, but for people with even a limited music
background, their lyrics are as dumb as a “Suddenly Susan” script
and their songs have an annoying tendency to end unexpectedly.
Some of their earlier releases such as
Music and
Grassroots featured a band who was trying to find their
voice in a mix of punk, funk and rap. With a budget,
Transistor shows the band still hasn’t found what it’s
looking for. Dave Matthews and Blues Traveler have far better
chops, the weakest tracks of the Beastie Boys can eclipse most
material on
Transistor and for funk…well…if you haven’t heard any
material from George Clinton or Prince, go outside and start
beating yourself over the head with a couple of good sized rocks,
now.
Some experiments actually pay off on
Transistor. The opening title track and “Prisoner” provide a
nice, smooth groove that hints at a great jammin’ album to come.
However, the Iron Maiden-like guitar intro to “Beautiful Disaster”
throws the album way off track.
As for the lyrics, well, you don’t really listen to 311 to
approach enlightenment, even though they make plenty of references
to Babylon and goddesses. However, you can tell how stoned the band
was recording this because half of the lyrics look like they came
from the fortune cookies they ate when they had the munchies.
“Stick to the way you rock/it just do it real slow.”(“Rub A
Dub”) “Wanna take it further/let’s take that funk further.” (“No
Control”) “And when the kind consciousness come unto you/you will
know and it won’t stop.” (“Inner Light Spectrum”) Sorry, haven’t
achieved enlightenment yet, dudes.
Maybe if the album was shorter, the pain would have been less.
Clocking in at about 70 minutes, this ranks up with one of the most
painful, enduring moments of this year. Watching close-ups of
Robin’s crotch in
Batman And Robin and seeing Nicolas Cage run in slow motion
for what seemed like half of
Con Air were the other two exercises in hell this year.
Seeing all of
Alien Resurrection was the most difficult to endure, but I
digress.
Writing on a music critic site, I realize that critics can be
wrong. Rush, one of the most critically reviled groups in history,
has produced some damn good work. But 311 is another sad staple in
the current crop of bands that try to merge different styles in
favor of a bigger paycheck. Sugar Ray, Reel Big Fish and Smash
Mouth are other offenders.
Transistor is probably the most ambitious album of the
bunch, so it won’t get a F in my book. Still, after listening to
the entire album, I am not filled with the pseudo-mystical images
that the band tries to put in your head. Instead, I get this image
of Kathie Lee Gifford pumping this album into the PA systems in
sweatshops all over the world.