Either way, the Ralphs are dead all but for a low run single issued in 1980 and a compilation attempting to sweep up the leftovers. Of course, this all amounts to a pretty enticing corpse that, in some ways, works to incorporate some Devo styled synth oddities with a twitch of gothy darkness via Ralph Williams’ vocals. It’s not an overt Bauhaus thing, but just breathy for the sake of sounding disgusted and detached from the stasis of straight life.
Pinning the Ralphs as just another one of the endless list of lost Texas bands doesn’t work. Granted, the group issued work through VVV, most often figured simply as the home to Bobby Soxx, but there’s not persistence of vision when entertaining a history of that imprint. So while that better known band might be thought to truck in gut bucket punk, there’s only the most tenuous tie to the Ralphs.
Folks generally lump bands with keyboards from this epoch of American punk stuff into a single category, but even that doesn’t work. The Ralphs aren’t Dow Jones and the Industrials or Pere Ubu. It’s some weird, dusty amalgam of every aggressive, underground music imaginable.
Granted, “Vegetable Romp” might as well have been plucked from Devo’s catalog – all the way down to Williams’ singing in the trembley, agitated voice. Good track regardless of it’s influence being all but too apparent.
“Inhumane,” in contrast, ranks as a ’77 styled rocker – all bar chords and speed. The vocals are even unique when contrasted to other efforts here. Just boss stuff.
What’s odd, though, is that the Ralphs do easily out rank a good number of bands that are harbingers of new wave. A bunch of San Fran bands come to mind. And while this isn’t meant to denigrate anyone, there’s no reason other than regionalism to explain the Ralphs’ relative obscurity at this late date. It’s safe to assume that even down there in Dallas, the ensemble isn’t afforded it’s proper place in history. That needs to change, though.