For my last partnering in the fifth annual "I'll Show You Mine If You'll Show Me Yours" write-off, I was paired with everyone's favorite Epinions towel wearing, dancing machine, Paul. I gave him a slew of choices, of which he picked Rich Robinson's solo debut, Paper (his review hopefully coming soon). He gave me a slew of choices as well, and I ended up picking the sophomore solo effort from one Julian Cope, titled Fried.
Now, coming into this write-off, I knew absolutely nothing about Mr. Cope. Hell, I had never even heard of him. He formed a band called the Teardrop Explodes in the late 70s. The band would release two albums and realize some minor success in the UK and the US. In the middle of recording sessions for the band's third album, however, Cope disbanded the group. Considered a bit of a weirdo for his pro-drug stance and his fascination with, among others, Timothy Leary, this sudden end to the Teardrop Explodes only seemed to reinforce that perception.
Cope released his first solo album in 1984, titled World Shut Your Mouth. Both critically lauded and attacked simultaneously, World Shut Your Mouth was essentially either loved or hated (though it's interesting to note that a remix of the title track became a hit in 1986). But Cope was on a creative high, and his second album, Fried, followed later in 1984.
Fried is an uneasy first listen, but it grows on you. It begins with Reynard the Fox, and in many ways, it mirrors musically that which Cope has been described as mentally and emotionally: disshelved, eccentric, and all over the place. It melds a smooth pop hook with a rant about a plastic bag (quite hilarious to be honest), before ending on a psychedelic hillbilly blues jam, for lack of a better description. It is a terrific listen, one that fans of alternative rock would no doubt love.
Other songs tend to show off Cope's copious influences. Sunspots is a brisk, crisp pop song that wouldn't sound out of place on The Beatles' White Album. The heavy bassline and guitar chords are softened by the horns that give the song it's hook, while Cope's vocals are sufficiently yearning. There's also a small guitar solo, only a few seconds long, that is gorgeously melodic and soulful. Only the song's overindulgent outro doesn't feel right, but that's water under the bridge.
The punk energy of his former band is also represented. While not overly loud or even fast, The Bloody Assizes has a biting riff and a defiant vocal tone. This song also finds Cope incorporating other influences into punk: a strong country/rockabilly flavor dominates the track, while also using psychedelic influences as well.
If nothing else though, Fried is a varied if at times inconsistent record. It's hard to pinpoint how the odd and goofy O King of Chaos fits in, and the transition from that song to the poppy Holy Love is jarring to say the least. But despite these speed-bumps, the album is more satisfying than frustrating, mostly thanks to Cope's apparent love at the time for solid melodies and hooks.
Don't mistake this for an easy listen however. It will grow on you, but it takes multiple listens to really appreciate what Cope did here. It doesn't all work, and some of the transitions are, as mentioned above, jarring, but the positives outweight the negatives. Fried, despite being 21 years old, sounds fresher now than most stuff that comes out today. With exceptional production values and a strong penchant for writing terrific melodies and hooks, Fried is the perfect album for the eccentric rock fan.
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