Frank Black Album Reviews

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Frank Black (1993)
Teenager of the Year (1994)

Frank Black (1993)

7.5

Los Angeles / I Heard Ramona Sing / Hang on to Your Ego / Fu Manchu / Places Named After Numbers / Czar / Old Black Dawning / Ten Percenter / Brackish Boy / Two Spaces / Tossed (Instrumental Version) / Parry the Wind High, Low / Adda Lee / Every Time I Go Around Here / Don’t Ya Rile ‘Em

Imagine you’re the front man of one of the most lauded bands of the past few years, put on a pedestal by thousands of fans and worshipped with as much enthusiasm by the music press. Your four albums are all considered essentials of the era, progress isn’t lacking, bands cite you as an influence and you go on tour with U2. However … there’s this bass player you don’t get along with. Oh well, there’s a lot of things going on that bother you, you’d like to be completely in charge, for instance, don’t want to share that huge piece of cake you've got. But, the problem is, that bass player might be one of the band’s secret weapons: the songs she contributes to and her breathy vocals make her the favorite masturbatory dream of thousands of alternative rock kids out there, while she also adds a certain coolness to the band (because you’re looking like the eternal student … in a chubby version). On the other hand, there’s the erratic behaviour, the nasty drug habit she can’t kick, and, well, she hates your fucking guts. What do you do? You set up a meeting to discuss it can’t go on like that anymore, that you’ve been rubbing each other the wrong way for too long? No, nothing like that: you pull a Frank Black (or a Black Francis – which is how he was called before) and you write history by announcing the band’s break-up on BBC’s Radio 5. BEFORE mentioning it to your band mates.

Black had been working on his debut while he was still in the Pixies (it appeared less than two months after the break-up), and I presume the others were fully aware of it and it probably wasn’t considered a problem, as Kim Deal also had The Breeders with whom she recorded the marvellous Pod a few years earlier. Frank Black was very much anticipated, but it became clear very soon that the fans were in for a vastly different ride this time. The tandem of Deal/Santiago/Lovering may not have been the most technically proficient one in the history of rock, but they proved the perfect match for Black’s healthily insane tales of madness, sex and a whole lotta nonsense. While the lyrics are still pretty undecipherable (“You heard about a criminal man of virtue, is there any doubt his minimal strands would suit you? Is a hard earned way, is a hard earned way”), the music’s become less extreme/abrasive/unsettling/original. However, despite a diminished lunacy factor, the debut goes to show what the attentive fans had always known: Black was a man with a vision – perhaps a quirky one, but at least he had one – and coupled with his undeniable gift for coming up with first-rate melodies, it could lead to extremely satisfying results. “Could”, indeed, as the subsequent albums share a wide-ranging sprawl, but also a frustrating unevenness. This eponymous album is no different: for each masterstroke (“Los Angeles,” “Fu Manchu”), there’s a song that’s merely pleasant (“Every Time I Go Around Here,” “Places Named After Numbers”), that betrays his personal stamp, but nothing more. An inspired Charles Thompson (C.T. for the friends) was/is capable of writing songs that can compete with those of his own heroes (Iggy Pop, The Beatles, Brian Wilson (proven by a slightly bloated take on Pet Sounds-outtake “Hang on to Your Ego”), Hüsker Dü, etc), but on Frank Black he also prooves that he's a mere mortal after all.

“Los Angeles” kicks off the album on a tremendously ambitious note, though. Starting of acoustically, it soon transforms into a tough rocker, as if it suddenly remembers to be the sequel to Trompe Le Monde. However, halfway through, the song suddenly retreads to spacier terrain, sounding like a mellow, ethereal tribute to David Bowie’s 70’s rock. The other unquestionable highlight is the delightfully nonsensical “Fu Manchu,” a simple, stomping rocker that builds on Bossanova’s sci-fi rock, while the playful sax parts (courtesy of They Might Be Giants) are an original touch. Apart from these two, there’s nothing really earth-shattering here, but the dirty gutter-rock of “Ten Percenter” (allegedly a tribute to Iggy Pop) is suitably sleazy, while the breezy “I Heard Ramona Sing” is an inconspicuous gem that gets better with every listen. The concise pop of “Old Black Dawning” pays homage to the Pixies’ soft/loud-dynamics (albeit in a less extreme fashion), while someone clearly listened to some Johnny Marr before recording this. “Two Spaces”, on the other hand, is an enchanting ditty that tries to reconcile They Might Be Giants with askew XTC, “Adda Lee” does the same with ska and Weezer (still non-existent at the time), while the crawling growl of the guitars in “Parry the Wind High, Low” is a perfect accompaniment for the lyrics about Desmond Dekker and UFO’s. As suggested above, Frank Black also has its share of less impressive stuff: while there’s nothing that I’d call true filler, some of these tracks just don’t make the standard Black set for himself during the previous years. “Tossed” is a fun instrumental that’s overly long, “Brackish Boy” is mock mariachi he did so much better before (“Crackity Jones” anyone?) and “Czar” is decent rock with very recognizable bass lines. It should’ve been trimmed a bit (obviously Black himself thought otherwise – witness the second album) and it needs a few more stunners to be regarded as a classic, but Frank Black’s best moments proove there was an afterlife for the man who’d stop playing a leading role, while never succumbing to pap either. Well, not yet.

Teenager of the Year (1994)

8

Whatever Happened to Pong? / Thalassocracy / (I Want to Live on An) Abstract Plain / Calistan / The Vanishing Spies / Speedy Marie / Headache / Sir Rockabye / Freedom Rock / Two Reelers / Fiddle Riddle / Olé Mulholland / Fazer Eyes / I Could Stay Here Forever / The Hostess with the Mostest / Superabound / Big Red / Space Is Gonna Do Me Good / White Noise Maker / Pure Denizen of the Citizens Band / Pie in the Sky

Barely a year after the release of his solo debut (which was completely overshadowed by The Breeders' Last Splash a few months later), Black already came up with the corpulent 22-song opus Teenager of the Year. At the time, you might've presumed he was suffering from an inflated ego and expecting too much of an effort from his fans (I know that my attention span starts crumbling down after 35-40 minutes), but then you'd neglect the fact he'd always been that prolific (and still is!), also with the Pixies, with whom he released on average an album a year from 1988 to 1991. The first difficulty (basically a luxury problem) with the album is that it's actually 22 songs and not - like Zen Arcade, for instance - a bunch of songs with some interludes and transitional pieces thrown in. The second setback is that the song order is a bit peculiar to say the least, as the album starts and ends with the most energetic songs and has a first half that's much more eclectic (and better) than the second half. Whereas the ceaseless stylistic swings of the first half keep you on your toes, waiting in anticipation for what's shoved in front of you next, the last ten songs or so are considerably less enticing and basically demand that you clear your mind and listen to it as if it's a different album. Therefore, the best way to approach these songs (and to give 'em the fair shot they deserve) is to immediately skip to, for instance, "Fazer Eyes" when you put the record on again.

Quality-wise, the first half hour of the album can withstand the intimidating Pixies-legacy. Seriously. It may be less "far-out," less hysterical (although the opening salvo of "Whatever Happened to Pong?" and "Thalassocracy" is pretty fuckin' intense to any band's standard) and less wicked overall, but it also proves that Black really was the genius of his former band and that he, apart from a terrific shrieker, also an impressive neo-classicist craftsman is. As such, Teenager of the Year demonstrates that Black's songs, despite the singular approach, didn't come out of nowhere, as he has obviously learned a lot from a few decades op pop/rock, incorporating sugary Beatles-esque melodies and breezy Beach Boys-inspired surf-pop, while it's also hard to imagine this album (and others) would ever have been recorded if David Bowie and the gentle folks of Pere Ubu (Eric Drew Feldman is still the main collaborator here) hadn't pursued a career in music. So, the album starts off on a hectic note with two short, revved up punk-bursts (especially check out how the intro to "Whatever" almost sounds like a Led Zeppelin-tribute), but after that, one pop delight follows the previous one. For "Abstract Plain" and the irresistible pop of "Headache," Black got the ringing acoustic guitars out of the closet; the lovely love-song "Speedy Marie" and the falsetto-including "Sir Rockabye" are delicate, concise dream-pop, "Freedom Rock" an almost epic rock song with a nifty reggae-ish break halfway, while "Two Reelers" reconciles Speedy Gonzales-punk with space-y synth-wave without falling flat. Even better than most of these songs is "Calistan": incorporating piano, laying down a wonderful melody and betraying a marvellous knack for dosage (a slight problem earlier on), Black succeeds in creating a song that'll haunt you for at least an entire day. As suggested above, the second half of the album isn't quite as successful or rewarding: some of the songs are a bit underdeveloped or unsubstantial ("I Could Stay Here Forever," "Space Is Gonna Do Me Good"), but the goofy pop of "Big Red" and the swift rock 'n' roll of "The Hostess with the Mostest," "Bad, Wicked World" and "Pie in the Sky" (with short, demented solo by guest Joey Santiago) get by on the strengths of the Black-touch. The abundance of material does create a bit of an anti-climax after the extraordinary barrage of songs the album begins with, but what Teenager of the Year does above all, is confirm that Black was more than capable of doing it all on his own as well.