Pros: Punk rock meets heavy metal, a couple years before Nirvana; no Fred Durst
Cons: No Fred Durst
The Bottom Line: Part punk, part metal, and part folk, "Creator" is the defining work of the Lemonheads; a musical hybrid that easily lends itself multiple listenings.
TheAnimalChin's Full Review: Creator by The Lemonheads
In the excellent book, “Please Kill Me,” Jerry Nolan, former drummer for the New York Dolls, notes that the thing he remembers most about seeing Elvis Presley in concert was that the king had a rather large hole in one of his shoes. Sure Nolan admits that Elvis had been spectacular, wowing the crowds with both his music and fancy footwork, but he couldn’t seem to forget that hole.
Likewise, for me, the thing I remember most about my junior year summer – during which I traveled all over the East Coast – is a nondescript brick building in Auburndale, Massachusetts, a Post Office that served as the mailing address for the Lemonheads at the time of their second album, “Creator.” Sure, I had seen Paul Revere’s house, the Empire State Building, and the entire town of historic Williamsburg, Virginia, but man alive, they didn’t seem to compare to that dinky little building in the Boston suburbs where, I imagined, Ben Deily, Evan Dando, and Jesse Peretz would gather to discuss their latest sonic experiments.
A beautiful lie, of course. I doubt Ben, Evan, or Jesse ever stepped foot in that building, let alone talked shop there. But still, I dreamt they had when I drove past that summer, on my way to another historic landmark.
To quote Mr. Deily (who was himself quoting Archie Bunker, but I digress), those were the days. I had just discovered this thing called indie rock and to me, the Lemonheads (along with their predecessors, Husker Du and the Replacements) were the franchise. The Lemonheads you say, why would you slave over a band like that, when bands like the Pixies and Big Black were blowing minds daily, paving the way for a thing called grunge? Because the Lemonheads combined the three things I valued most in music: the simplicity and energy of punk rock, the “Dionysian roar of heavy metal” (thanks Greil Marcus), and the intelligence of songwriters like Paul Westerberg. Plus, they did it all in half the time.
Okay, so I’m riffing a little too much. I’ve read too much Magnet, plus, I’m an English and Philosophy major: I’m conditioned to think I need to drop as many references as possible. But I’m getting help, really.
I first noticed the Lemonheads via their debut album, “Hate Your Friends.” A friend from high school played it constantly because of one song, on which he said the singer screamed he was “a rabbit and liked to stick his carrot” in the listener. I was sold. I bought the album and was sucked into their sick vortex. Soon afterwards, I purchased “Creator,” against the advice of my friend, who claimed the album sucked, that the band didn’t put out another decent one until “It’s a Shame about Ray.”
Lies.
“Creator” is, in my opinion, the Lemonheads’ finest work. It is the work of a band that has successfully moved past standard three chord punk rock (not that there’s anything wrong with punk rock), past clichéd joke songs like the aforementioned “Rabbit” and “Rat Velvet” (although I still think their version of “Amazing Grace” is killer: Ben Deily playing the part of the dirty Catholic boy to a “T”), and onto greener pastures. Look no further than the album’s first song, “Burying Ground,” if you doubt me. Sounds of rain falling and a church bell ringing quickly give way to a chiming guitar that itself cedes to a vaguely heavy metal riff. Ominous? You bet. Ben Deily’s lyrics add to the slightly macabre atmosphere:
Down the road, around the hill
Past the dusty railroad tracks
Where the dark ones whisper
She is gone…
So now you understand why they thank “Ozzy, Tony, Geezer, and Bill (of Black Sabbath) and Government Issue” in the liner notes. Like Nirvana a few years later, the Lemonheads seem to have successfully merged heavy metal and punk rock, creating a tuneful hybrid that didn’t sound quite like either. Deily’s next song, “Sunday,” follows suit: heavy riffs, yet amazingly tuneful, the song also boasts a stanza stolen from Emily Dickinson. So they’re going to get literary on my butt too? Yep, both Deily and Peretz attended Harvard.
But no band gets very far by just playing the same song over and over. Okay, maybe the Ramones but they were the Ramones. “Creator” is a great record because it is, ulp, diverse. And a large part of that diversity (although I loathe to admit it) can be attributed to Deily’s foil, college drop-out Evan Dando. To be honest, I really don’t care for Dando (I stopped buying Lemonheads records after he admitted he tried heroin for fun – although he can almost be forgiven for his interview with a clueless, and obviously linguistically impaired, Dutch journalist at the end of the album, in which he calls the band completely derivative and “Lick” a “complete fraud”) but this record also contains some of his strongest work. Witness “Clang Bang Clang” (retitled “Left for Dead” on the band’s fourth record, “Lovey”) and an early version of “Mallo Cup” if you don’t believe me. Also willing to summon the spirits of Iommi and Stabb, Dando does just fine with his heavy metal punk rock, even if his lyrics are slightly less, well, understandable. Take “Out,” for example:
Digging deeper in the sand
Now the water comes up
Cut my finger off
You’re so, you’re so…
Still, I mentioned diversity, and it doesn’t count if you have two singers who write the same type of songs. Dando and Deily shine here because they can branch out: both contribute acoustic numbers to the record. While Dando pulls his from the Charles Manson songbook (“Your Home is Where You’re Happy”), Deily produces his own number, “Postcard,” that to me, ranks right up there with “Unsatisfied.” Take a look at the lyrics:
I know that it doesn’t matter much
But I hope we’ll keep in touch
I know you won’t go on as such
But I hope we’ll keep in touch
Could it be that hard?
I’ll send you a postcard
Okay, I admit, slightly cheesy, but Deily’s delivery manages to eliminate any urges to vomit. The last song on the album seals the deal for me. “Live Without” was the song that I played throughout that car ride past the Post Office in Massachusetts.
Two in the morning though I know I’m lying to myself
Its an eccentric gift, gathering dust on the shelf
Still feverish...
New stars, old sky, life’s satisfied
Indeed. Get this one, and if you don’t trust me, Trouser Press also thought this was the Lemonhead’s best album.
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