Yeah Yeah Yeahs Album Reviews

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Yeah Yeah Yeahs EP (2001)
Fever to Tell (2003)

Yeah Yeah Yeahs EP (2001)

7.5

Bang / Mystery Girl / Art Star / Miles Away / Our Time

A YEAH YEAH YEAHS RECIPE

Yield: 6 servings
Prep. Time: 30 minutes plus 15 minutes standing time
Cooking time: 35 minutes plus Yeah Yeah Yeahs cooking time

3 c crushed fresh or low-sodium canned White Stripes
1/2 c chopped X-Ray Spex
1/2 c chopped red bell Jon Spencer Blues Explosion
1/2 c chopped Siouxsie Sioux
1/2 c chopped Debbie Harry
1/2 c Cramps or Gun Club
2 tbs Chrissie Hynde
1/2 tsp dried Elastica leaves
1/2 tsp dried Hives leaves
1/2 tsp dried Strokes leaves
1/2 tsp dried Royal Trux leaves
4 blues whites, lightly beaten
1 1/2 c non-fat ricotta Peaches or cottage Peaches
8 oz Yeah Yeah Yeahs, cooked al dente and well drained
1 lb fresh sex, well washed
4 oz non-fat Hole, grated

1. Place White Stripes, X-Ray Specs, Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, Siouxsie Sioux, Debbie Harry, Cramps or Gun Club, PJ Harvey, Chrissie Hynde, Elastica Leaves, Hives leaves, Strokes leaves, Royal Trux leaves, and black Blues Explosion in a large, heavy saucepan. Simmer for 20 minutes.

2. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

3. Mix together the blues whites and the ricotta or cottage Peaches. Set aside.

4. To assemble, place a layer of White Stripes sauce in the bottom of a 9-by-13 inch casserole. Cover the sauce with a layer of cooked Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Spread ricotta-blues mixture over the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and top with a layer of sex. Add another layer of Yeah Yeah Yeahs, another layer of sauce, and finish with grated Hole.

5. Bake for 35 minutes. Let stand for 15 minutes before cutting.

MY NOTES: I doubled most of the spices and added red Blues Explosion. (I don't see how 1/2 tsp of Elastica and Strokes could possibly be enough for a full Yeah Yeah Yeahs!)

I didn't use the sex and it turned out fine.

There was an excess of liquid in the bottom of the casserole. Several people suggested remedies for this. You could try to saute the X-Ray Spex first and drain the excess liquid from them. You could let the sauce simmer longer so as to reduce some of the liquid. I suppose you could try adding some cornstarch/arrowroot. However, don't try adding White Stripes paste because this would probably change the flavor considerably.

This Yeah Yeah Yeahs has a really nice flavor. I think the Cramps and Siouxsie Sioux add a lot to it since the White Stripes aren't prominent. It's a refreshing change from a heavy, Peaches and grease filled Yeah Yeah Yeahs.

(Thanks to Kelly Roddy)

Alternate recipe: “Bang” is a swell piece of street trash (Southern Culture on the Skids after a whorehouse bender) that reduces The Kills’ sexiness to prep school daftness. Singer/foxy lady Karen O not only moans and groans her way throughout the song, but with lines such as “As a fuck son, you sucked,” she makes it obvious what it’s all about. “Mystery,” a kind of sinister rockabilly groove, is pretty cool as well (gotta dig the swagger and yelping vocals there), but unfortunately “Art Star” spoils the fun with its pseudo-offensive alternation of cheesy “doo-doo-doo”-parts and over-the-top white noise. “Miles Away” is the most straightforward of the bunch and is propelled by the capable duo of Brian Chase (drums) and Nick Zinner (guitars). The stretched-out “Our Time,” which lifts its chorus from golden oldie “Crimson and Clover,” explores less obvious territory, which suggests the Yeah Yeah Yeahs might be here to stay after all. Anyway, with this self-titled EP, they were off to a good start.

Fever to Tell (2003)

7

Rich / Date with the Night / Man / Tick / Black Tongue / Pin / Cold Light / No No No / Maps/ Y Control / Modern Romance

With the ridiculous hype that preceded the band and their highly anticipated debut album, Fever to Tell was bound to disappoint – which it does, to a degree -, but its best moments are proof of the band’s undeniable talent and suggest that they might deliver a truly convincing album somewhere in this decade. As it is now, Fever to Tell is basically a continuation of their ecstatic garage punk of the EP’s, but unfortunately they’re not able maintain the quality level for an entire album, even though it’s only 37 minutes long. Now, before I get to the nitpicking, I gotta stress that the band – despite the absence of a full-fledged, era-defining classic – offers quite a bunch of tracks that explain why they immediately made their debut as support act to the mighty Strokes and White Stripes. Though stylistically limited, Brian Chase and Nick Zinner are able to kick up quite a racket, with especially the guitar player coming up with quite a diversity of textures (tough power chords, distorted staccato rockabilly riffs, post-punk jangle). The band’s main attraction, of course, remains Karen O, a combination of Kim Gordon (from back when she wore the torn mini-dresses) and one of Heidi Fleiss’ girls: she moans, pants, cajoles and shrieks her way throughout these 11 songs like an over-sexed ADHD-sufferer on a speed trip. It’s a routine that works, but only in small or medium-sized doses.

Already during “Rich,” the album’s raunchy opening track, O announces herself as the horniest girl on the block, and the music – loud, tough and primal – fits it perfectly. Even better is the wave-punk of “Date with the Night,” a weirdly danceable slab of contortionist’s disco and a great showcase for how great O’s vocals can be (I even dig the hoarse “choke choke choke choke!”), especially when she reaches a kind of climax with a repeated “I’ll set you, I’ll set it off.” It’s this feverish, sleazy atmosphere that turns some of their brashest songs into irresistible trailer park art-punk. Other fine tracks are the stomping Royal Trux meets-The Cramps of “Black Tongue,” with its great guitar sounds and, uh, catchy lyrics (“Boy you’re just a stupid bitch, girl you’re just a no good dick”?), and “Cold Light,” which is twice as perverted as anything The Kills ever attempted (“We could do it to each other like a sister and a brother”). It goes to show that average songwriting can be redeemed with a unique style. While not as successful, “Man” and “Tick” are enjoyable as well, the former because it shows what brutal hard rock can sound like in the hands of a few hipsters, while the latter sounds both like a reply to Nina Hagen’s theatrical antics and the retro-punk of The Hives (and it works … kinda). While I would’ve been happy with an EP containing these songs, the band proves it perhaps wasn’t ready for a full-length release, as the monotonous “Pin” sounds underdeveloped and “No No No” adds a completely superfluous spacey outro. Then the band surprisingly changes gears for the last few songs in which they display a less hectic side. “Maps” is easily the best one of these tracks, with restrained vocals by O (bringing her closer to PJ Harvey and Roisin Murphy than to Courtney Love). Also “Y Control” is a decent new wave-ish track with ringing guitars and accessible vocals, but album closer “Modern Romance” unfortunately deals in adolescent disillusion (“there’s no more modern romance”!), with the droning music being quite a letdown and the unexpected coda unable to set this straight. Fever to Tell shows an original and talented band at work, but also – once again – that the hype (based on the band’s different appearance and attitude) is in complete disproportion to the product. That said, they’re not a bunch of ridiculous wannabees like The Vines (to name just one) either; let’s just say we’re already looking forward to the album that’ll turn them into a 1st tier-band.