Pure Punk Picks
Debaser – The Pixies
I guess The Pixies are pretty popular now. At least, they can sell out concerts with several thousands of people attending their shows.
I’m certainly glad for them and I feel that they deserve it.
But though I do love them, it would be too strange for me to attend a show of theirs now.
I saw them many times in the late eighties in Boston. I saw them at clubs like The Rat, where it wasn’t in thousands but, more like in the tens. Or at Green Street Station just blocks from where the Midway is now.
It just wouldn’t feel right, feel normal to me.
By the time The Pixies came around, Andy and I had seen, more than a dozen, great local bands that we were certain would break through the music industry and become the “next big thing.”
I still feel strongly, that those bands we supported, in a perfect world, would’ve, should’ve become big stars.
But when I first saw this band play, many years ago.
I thought to myself- “Well, here’s another local band I love, that know one will care about.” I had zero hopes for this band success.
Seems like a was wrong, but now, it seems that I am happily surprised.
Not sure how to describe them since they recorded on an English independent label, I guess they were considered indi then. Of course, that was when some indi bands actually played with some guts and passion, as this band certainly did.
Lotsa surf in their music, a lot of punk and hardcore as well, and an irreverent take on pop and lyrics, I’d say.
They had so many great albums, so many great songs. It’s hard to choose but I had to- one, has no other choice but to choose!
With a simple bass pattern answered by some dissonant chords, “Debaser” is met with a stark, surf guitar lick and an underlying surf beat. In the eighties a lot of punk and new wave had surf rock and garage influences intertwined.
“Got me a movie, I want you to know! Slicing up eyeballs, I want you to know! Girl is so groovy, I want you to know! Don’t know about you but I am- Un Chein Andulsia.” (Which translate to “An Andulusian Dog.” Which is a Franco- Spanish short, silent surrealistic film from 1929 directed by the famous film director, Luis Brunel and the famous artist, Salvador Dali.
At one point in the film it shows an eyeball slashed with a razor and the eyeball drops out. It’s made to look like it could be a human’s eye but it’s actually, one from a dead donkey!
I first saw this movie played before a David Bowie show, in the seventies, the Station To Station tour, I believe.
So yeah, there’s some artsy connections with this song. That doesn’t distract me- in fact, it leads me on like an andulsian slimedog, on the hunt for the scent of his female master!
But this song itself, is pure passion, pure excitement, totally unpretentious and a lot of fun. And not at all overly ponderous as some of the hardcore and metal can be at times.
“I want to grow up, grow up to be, be a debaser.” (Debase her- is how it’s sadly sung).
Definition: “someone who lowers the quality or character of value.”
Not something, anyone wants to grow up to be. But this song is so uplifting in its energy, so intense and emotional in the vocals and so real and true in its’ sound.
And when the drums and guitars drop off to let the singer, Black Francis, howl out the lyrics accentuated at the end of each line with the phrase- “Oh, oh oh, whoa!” You feel the powerful wildness of a vocal that was quite common during the early punk/new wave era.
Be it- David Byrne of Talking Heads, David Thomas of Pere Ubu, Fred Schneider of The B-52’s and many more- and maybe this all stems from Little Richard when he sang, “A-womp-bomp-a-loo-bomp. A-lomp-bam-boom.”
This song may not slice your eyeballs- “Oh, oh, oh, whoa!”
And maybe, not slice up your eardrums, though it caused massive bleeding in mine- “Oh, oh, oh, whoa!”
But this song should cut clean to your soul, slicing up your heart and your mind like a Japanese sushi chef blazing away, madly, ruthlessly.
This song cuts out all the fat and the rules and expectations, of what a really, great pop/rock song could be. You could now be too abrasive, too nonsensical, too eccentric and obscure and still deliver the goods. A song that was just as good. No!- better, than pop songs that were served up before.
This song doesn’t serve up any sliced eyeballs, be they human or donkey as such-
But it does serve up a real passionate energy, an intelligent awareness, and an artistic break of the past.
A culmination of what was brewing during it’s inception and a realization of what could be to move music forwards- towards its’ future.
And when the guitars culminate in a primal, Velvet Underground strum, towards the end, the endorphins spin through my system like a flock of salmon swimming up stream through my central system, producing jolts of joy!
Me, I’m just now waiting for my order of sliced, donkey eyes at my local delicatessen.
With a side order of potato salad and a half sour pickle, at that.
But this song will always fill my musical nourishment.
(Slimedog)
