One of the greatest
nerd-rock bands ever,
The B-52s arrived in 1979
with this gem of a debut.
They were not accomplished
musicians, but these spirited
performances completely
overshadowed what they may
have lacked in precision,
or what the serious
musicians might have called “chops.”
I might have been one
of those dismissive listeners.
I can imagine myself saying
something like, “but these guys
can barely play and sing!”
I had a sensibility, though,
it’s origin a mystery, an early
aesthetic or a kind of maxim,
one that I articulated for myself
pretty early on in my musical
life, one to which I still adhere,
that if a band or a songwriter
is not technically proficient
or skilled, they/he/she better be
inventive, creative, strange, quirky,
must have something unique to offer,
a voice I’ve never heard anywhere else,
and the B-52’s demonstrated
these characteristics at full throttle,
as did early Talking Heads, Devo.
The incongruity, the absurdism
still makes me laugh out loud.
Fred Schneider’s delivery,
the most unlikely of rock stars,
more unlikely even than
David Byrne, sing/speaks with
such conviction, it’s impossible
not to believe him when he
tells us that the girl from
Planet Claire is driving
a Plymouth Satellite, or that
beach goers might be in danger
from the bikini whale.
And Cindy and Kate with
those glorious bouffants,
the hollering and wailing,
their tight harmonies,
their unison chanting,
their yodeling, their back
and forth with Fred: nothing less
than a party out of bounds.
The songs are not consistently
strong across their first two albums,
but when they were “on”,
they were pure fire.
“Why don’t you dance with me?
I’m not no limburger.”
Indeed.
Notes on the vinyl editions: The B-52s, Warner Brothers, 1979. This is a recent reissue on clear vinyl with red splatter. Wild Planet, Warner Brothers, 1980. Another recent reissue, this one on clear vinyl with blue splatter. I don’t believe either of these albums were remastered for this edition–if they were, there’s nothing to indicate this in the liner notes.
In case you’re just joining me: I am listening to (almost) every record in my collection in alphabetical order and writing a poem-like-thing in response.
michael jarmer 