Able to appreciate the rolling bass lines on other tracks, the more aggressive offerings were still what drew me in. But since the band is appearing at Chicago’s Riot Fest this weekend, I figured that I needed to brush up on some history and track down some (digital) copies of those albums. It was a wise decision.
Within the burgeoning underground rock thing that was going on during the early and mid ‘80s there were a few bands who didn’t work strictly in punk, but were able to appeal to the genre’s fan base. The Dead Milkmen probably faired the best in ‘the scene,’ even as the Violent Femmes wound up being a much higher profile group – and a great deal more serious. Regardless, the Milkmen ended up inking a deal with Enigma, a Restless Records subsidiary, and releasing its first album in 1985.
Big Lizard in My Backyard sported “Bitchin’ Camaro,” which hit the radio airwaves and for whatever reason seemed to ingratiate itself to listeners. Oddly, though, there are a clutch of songs from the record that not only eschew the bloated introduction that the car song sports, but also include some greater musicality.
“Beach Song” begins with a bass line that’s all but cribbed from Sandinista, but quickly moves into a jangly guitar focused protest of heading down to the beach. And since no one wants to wind up looking like a leather suitcase, listeners would be wise to heed the warning. And yeah, the beach – or the people the go there, more explicitly – do get annoying. But the solo snuck in here does as much to mitigate a horrific trip to the shore as getting drunk prior to heading out there.
The Milkmen’s following album - Eat Your Paisley! – wasn’t received well by fans/critics/people that make ‘taste.’ The second album, though, seems unfairly maligned. It just didn’t match the audacity related by Big Lizard in My Backyard nor did the group’s third album - Bucky Fellini – despite it being generally lauded.
This third effort, though, ratcheted up the comedic factor with “Instant Club Hit” even if the track’s nothing short of obnoxious (and I hope the group doesn’t break out a rendition of it this coming Saturday at the Metro). Elsewhere on the disc, tracks like “Tacoland” don’t show off a new found musical talent, but do include interesting additions to the punk-come-rock construction of the Milkmen. There’s a slide guitar, but it’s not necessarily a mind expanding experience. It’s just there.
Either way, watching forty/fifty year old men playing thirty year old songs might prove entertaining. Maybe. Even if it does, whatever the definition of ‘punk’ is or could be, doesn’t involve shelling out twenty bucks to watch dudes play old songs.