I suck information through the holes in my skull
As my belly gurgles hungry my mouth is always full.

For those who aren't in on the gag, Primus fans proclaim themselves to one another by announcing that Primus sucks. Let me say enthusiastically that Antipop sucks like nothing Primus has produced since Sailing the Seas of Cheese.

This is truly inspired and innovative rock and roll that stresses the bass-playing prowess of the one and only Les Claypool, who seems to have taken the inventive bass stylings of Mike Watt (Firehose) and Flea (The Red Hot Chili Peppers) to their most logical and emphatically beautiful extreme.

Before I plunge into a review of Antipop itself, I want to give people unfamiliar with this earth-shatteringly original band a little background on what kind of a treat they'll be in for if they decide to give this trio a chance.

When a friend of mine did me the favor of introducing me to Primus in 1991, the band tended to be categorized as metal or alterna-metal, a miscategorization that lingers today. The problem with this designation is that it does a disservice to both metalheads and Primus. Metal music is essentially about playing fat, boring guitar licks while cavorting about in zipper-studded leather and flirting with the satanic in a way that makes priests and octogenarian Catholic women simultaneously fearful and titillated.

I don't mean to suggest that metal music is bad (although I happen to think that it is). I respect lots of people (including writers on this site, such as Mordred) who have something approaching patience for goth/glam power ballads performed by men who like to show how very dangerous they are by costuming themselves like extremely pretty women and singing catchy little melodies that could very easily be ridden to the top of the charts by Paula Abduhl.

In fairness, I think that metal music rightly cashes in on the exuberant mindlessness that is certainly an important part of the history of rock and roll. Metal is gloriously self-indulgent and insatiably appetitive--and emblematic of a lot of what Elvis stood for. It's just not my kind of music.

Although bands like Metallica seem to be overshadowed by the success of such faux-metal or bubble metal acts as Bon Jovi, I suppose one of the reasons that Primus continues to be lumped in with metal acts is that Claypool once auditioned for Metallica.

It is evidence of the beneficence of God that the members of Metallica didn't want Claypool. His musical vision is far grander than theirs, far more sophisticated and challenging and--I will not apologize for returning to this grandiose word--beautiful.

Les Claypool understands the importance of rhythm in rock and roll. More importantly, however, he understands the importance of repetition with a difference. The ordinary Primus tune starts with a bass track that is phenomenally energizing or mind-bogglingly catchy or ferociously syncopated and then subtly mutates into something that I can only describe as a bass guitar talking to itself (or sometimes arguing with itself). The only thing I can compare Claypool's bass artistry to is the 'sheets of sound' approach that John Coltrane developed on saxophone. Claypool doesn't break chords down into note-by-note exploration, but he does tend to analyze and celebrate his opening bass licks through the course of his songs.

And while I adore everything that Primus has produced, I have to admit that Pork Soda, Tales from the Punchbowl and The Brown Album did not strike me as inventive on the level that Frizzle Fry and Sailing the Seas of Cheese had been. As a case in point, the bass lick from "DMV," (an excellent song on Pork Soda) was a teency bit too derivative of "Jerry Was a Race Car Driver" for me to get as excited about the song as I would have liked. And though I'm not a prude, I'm afraid I was never quite able to see very much humor in "Wynona's Big Brown Beaver" (from Punchbowl).

Something leads me to suspect that for a while there Claypool was trying to emulate the not-too-brilliant sexual innuendo that Anthony Kiedis and the Chili Peppers relied on for their incredibly successful Blood Sugar Sex Magic (which I consider a truly great album despite such lines as "Drink my juice, young love, chug-a-lug me").

As for Antipop, it is quite possibly even more innovative than I am able to admit. It may even be better than my heart's darling, Sailing the Seas of Cheese. Back when Frizzle Fry came out, I suspect it wasn't as innovative as I tell myself that it was. It begins with a little soundburst that is an obvious tribute to Rush and includes incredibly funky songs that sound the way we all know Peart, Lee and Lifeson could sound if they just lightened up for a few minutes.

So maybe Primus was never quite as original as they are in Antipop. Some reviewers have attributed this success to the new drummer Brain (who, to date, has expressed no intention of taking over the world). I'm not inclined to agree. In the first place, I still think Tim "Herb" Alexander was an excellent percussive counterpart to Claypool, as evidenced by the sophisticated dialogues that occur between bass and drums on the early Primus albums. Secondly, we should recall that Brain played with Primus back on The Brown Album, which, though an excellent CD, is probably the Primus disc I reach for the least.

I feel pretty confident in saying that if we need to point to anything specific to account for the refreshingly innovative sound of Antipop, it is the infusion of production assistance from Tom Morello (of Rage Against the Machine), Stewart Copland (formerly of the Police), and Tom Waits (whom all Primus fans will remember for his brilliant contribution to the very best song ever written, Primus' "Tommy the Cat").

One might go so far as to say that Antipop showcases Primus doing everything they have ever done well even more successfully than they did it in the past. Claypool, who has always been more of a cool frontman than a gifted vocalist, even sings better than he usually does. His bass licks are as engaging and frenetic as the ones on Sailing the Seas of Cheese, but are accompanied by guitar work that is even better than the stuff that Ler (Larry Lalonde) produced back on Frizzle Fry, when he wasn't too embarrassed to copy the stylings of other, more compositionally gifted guitarists.

Claypool's lyrics have been remarkably inconsistent on past albums. Before Antipop, his best songs were generally his silliest. When he tried to be reflective or philosophical or introspective, he usually just ended up either making fun of himself or making me wish that he had (e.g. "To Defy the Laws of Tradition"). But with Antipop I think it is safe to say that he has hit his lyrical stride. Here he is not pompous or pretentious, but not vapid or purely sarcastic either. There is substance here if you want it, but it won't be jammed mercilessly into your ear if you don't.

The title track, for instance, features the following stanzas:

As a young man
I plug into the tube
But the stench of all that pretense
I cannot muddle through.

I lay on my back
And scan the radio
All that comes out of my speakers
Is a steady syrup flow.

I suck information through the holes in my skull
as my belly gurgles hungry my mouth is always full.

He appears to be more concerned with helping us to identify with his disappointment in that syrup flow than in calling attention to how clever he is for detecting its worthlessness. And he has not lost his sense of humor, as we see in the song that he writes for Bodacious, a rodeo bull that no cowboy seems to be able to master:

Bodacious am a whole lotta bull
Over nineteen hundred pounds
He's born in Galtry, Oklahoma
And he's the baddest sonsabitch around.
If a burma bull ever were a super star
Then Bodacious just might be
He's a cream-colored, beefy brawn
Full-fledged, four-footed bovine celebrity.

I know people (such as my brother-in-law) who can't get past the distortion and the lyrical silliness to the musical meat of Primus. But it's seriously good music that rewards patient listening. It's a bit like be-bop in that respect. At first it may sound like musicians who are just having too much fun with their own extraordinary musical talent. But if you pay attention, you'll find out that they're really having that fun on your behalf. I heartily recommend Antipop; it's everything that I have ever asked jazz or rock and roll or even orchestral music to be: gripping.


Recommended: Yes