Didjits
Hey Judester

Personality is one of the fundamental virtues for those who want to be remembered by making rock music. When you find yourself with three meager instruments and your models are the "usual suspects" Chuck Berry, Little Richard, Jerry Lee Lewis, those to whom the birth of this musical genre is owed, you must be able to invent something unique to add flavor to a recipe that, by the late '80s, had begun to taste like reheated soup. They have been declared dead repeatedly, yet the "old" rock'n'roll has managed, season after season, to reinvent itself with surprisingly innovative energy, considering that they are always the same notes, the same scales, the same rhythms. But if the sheet music hasn't changed much over time, it is the execution that has made the difference.
Rick Sims (a man with personality to spare), a singer/guitarist from Chicago, absorbed and reinterpreted the lessons of the '50s masters as only a punk or an indie-rocker from the '80s could. It wasn't a sterile revival that Sims performed, but a conscious filtering of rock'n'roll through the stylistic achievements of hardcore and noise-rock. To achieve this, Sims relied on guitar play that was as eclectic as it was fiery and on overwhelming vocal showmanship: demonic, hysterical, psychotic, unpredictable, vitalist, gritty, hedonistic, Sims' falsetto is one of the most inspired and captivating of the era and the genre. He was accompanied by an impeccable rhythm section (Brad Sims, Joe Evans), with particular mention of drummer Brad (Rick's brother), precise, powerful and at the same time intelligent and imaginative.

The album "Hey Judester" (1988), the second work by Didjits, can be divided into two parts: the first, more original in revising the canons of rock'n'roll; the second, more faithful to tradition. The first three songs serve as a manifesto of their aesthetics: the frenetic rockabilly of "Max Wedge", the dissonances in "Stingray", the sharp guitars, the discouraged refrain, and the sudden convulsions of "Plate In My Head", reveal how Didjits' rock stands midway between the classic boogie pulse, the melodic and concise punk of fellow Chicagoans Naked Raygun, and harmonic derailments of every kind. In "Skull Baby" the frenetic rhythm is abandoned, and a shrill riff (closely related to "Bone Machine" by Pixies) emerges, an obsessive, morbid pace, with Sims shedding the role of shouter for a moment and assuming the tone of a slightly more lighthearted Lux Interior, but equally maniacal, while in the Sonic Youth-style finale, the harmony disintegrates and dissolves into an overflowing, unhealthy sludge. "Under The Christmas Fish" is perhaps the masterpiece of the album, as well as the most atypical track: every element, from the limping rhythm to the expressionist and desperate singing (between Thomas, Cave, and Yow), to the neurasthenia of tight guitars creating an anxiety-inducing and suffocating atmosphere, helps to demonstrate how the influence of Pere Ubu (yes, them) extended throughout the following decade (and beyond), coming to infect the groups seemingly most immune to the "modern dance" virus. "Axhandle" deserves the laurel for the most pyrotechnic whirlwind: bass in the foreground, breathtaking singing, and a guitar expressing itself freely, now squealing, now absent, now devoted to an expanded jingle-jangle of Mould-ian memory.
The more "calligraphic" part of the album revisits traditional rock genres, not without putting the usual frenzied rhythms, shredded guitars, beastly vocalizations on the table, with the addition of sporadically destroyed keyboards. And so the Didjits then review funk ("King Carp"), hard-rock ("Stampo Knee Grinder"), metal ("Joliet"), boogie ("Lucille"), rock'n'roll ("Balls...Fire"; now tell me: what does the title remind you of?), up to garage ("Dad"). In my opinion, the best version of the Didjits remains in the first part of the album, which alone is worth the price of admission. The second part, while far from pure revival, is less valuable and perhaps is what prevents "Hey Judester" from being classified as a work of absolute value. Nonetheless, the Didjits have effectively and wisely demonstrated what it means to play classics and moderns at the same time, genuine without being naive, by virtue of intelligence, inspiration and, of course, personality.