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Rating: 1994 John Frusciante - Niandra LaDes And Usually Just A T Shirt
After the incredible departure in 1992, Frusciante found himself alone, desperate, and enslaved by drugs. The solo work he produced is nothing more than a terrifyingly beautiful fresco of his life during that period. The only rule is: there are no rules. Music remained the only beautiful thing in his life and for this very reason John completely immersed himself in it; the 25 tracks that make up the album are an ongoing anthem to freedom; the guitarist uses the dark colors of death and the bright ones of sex to extract his essence.
Few musicians have gone as far as putting their soul into music. Though born out of pain, “Niandra LaDes” is an unrepeatable work, in which music almost perfectly aligns with the psyche of the performer. The restlessness, the terror of living, and the rage are movingly drawn by the guitar of “As Can Be”, a song without form or defined sense; we hear the soul crying out in suffering. It is a perilous listening, the indecipherable intensity of the out-of-tune singing is difficult to digest, because it is the result of extreme sensations. One gets lost in this song, so distant from standards, from rules, that it may seem too oppressive. Desperate madness takes possession of the music.
The sweet introduction of “My Smile Is a Rifle” should not deceive; we are faced with another mad song, between hysterical chatter and the funeral cadence of the guitar. Disorder reigns supreme in tracks like “Head (Beach Arab),” which is almost annoying, and “Big Takeover,” a raw sick folk, a poisonous concoction of guitars. “Curtains” is a dizzying ballad, “Running Away Into You” is a sweet and obsessive electronic sketch, between echoes and the linear guitar. The teasing guitar and the expressiveness of the singing come together in “Mascara” creating something unique. The melody stretches perfectly over the folk guitar; but John's hysteria transforms this delightful snapshot of happiness into a delirious dialogue in which only the guitar dictates moods and rhythms. Extraordinary, especially in the finale that flows then into “Been Insane,” resuming the theme of the previous song (one of the many). “Skin Blues” is another dazed intertwining of guitars, an instrument that is the absolute protagonist in this work. “Your Pussy’s Glued To A Building On Fire” is an eccentric track; the robust guitar accompanies a desperate chant. The obscenity of the title hides a great desire for love among the folds of the lyrics, another whispered confession that adds to the other pieces of soul scattered throughout the album. “Blood On My Neck From Success” is particularly oppressive, especially in the sudden screams; “Ten To Butter Blood Voodoo” is sung by two overlapping voices and gives yet another touch of madness. This is where the real songs end and a series of thirteen “Untitled” begins, where alienating electronics mix with folk hypnosis.
“Niandra LaDes” is an album that travels out of time; unruly and fascinating, it is certainly John Frusciante's masterpiece. Probably most people will not find any pleasure in listening to these insane ballads without direction; but by reading between the lines, you may find comfort in hearing the freedom that flies in the air around you.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
07 Mascara (03:40)
There's a belt of sun dripping through a porthole
In a set design
Can you read your name?
It's been so long since we blew from the inside
So where have you been since you fell off the flat edge
Of the world under an ugly sky
You've been lying by
But they meant you, dance under the moonlight
Do what you think is the sum
Of your own flesh and blood
Above there's small birds gone to trembling
In for thousands of your years
Voice 1: You felt like crystal in your thighs
Voice 2: You get four red candles
Voice 2: On the table with your penis by your eyes
Voice 1: You're the one that makes me realize
Voice 1: Big water flowing through to tomorrow
Voice 2: Through to your vacation
Voice 1: Apples and cake must have been your stake
Voice 2: ? (something about "a gallon of wine") but the smile you send in
my direction
Both: Makes me feel like I'm alive
Voice 1: You're hidden by your wooden legs
Voice 2: You're my kind, You're my kind
Voice 2: You always make me feel like a moon in my life
Voice 1: Stay here in down at the world's edge, for a time
Voice 2: It always makes me feel good to know you're alive, wrapping your ties
Voice 1: Down by the whirlpool, I finally realized you must have bitten
your snake, your little guy
Voice 1: I've been insane well the time is slow
Voice 2: I've been to a society where you can't see yourself and you can't
feel sunshine
Voice 2: And if you see me roaming the hillside won't you come along? It's
all gone to the top of yourself. You'll always be alone.
Voice 1: The Pope don't matter when the pawn is your sea, don't you agree?
Voice 2: I like you in my love, makes me feel good just to know I can love
someone like you. They'll make it hard for you choose. I can understand but
when you see the tears coming you close your eyes. To you I'm sure it's no
surprise that I could be one of the dead. Thank god my underwear's full of
lead without you. Without you.
Voice 1: When you're around I'm wound around your thumb. You wanna be numb
inside the gun. All your different delights are one big fight against the
baby inside that you've mistaken for pain.
08 Been Insane (01:41)
I've been insane well the time is slow
The Pope don't matter when the pawn
Is your sea
Don't you agree?
When you're around I'm wound
Around your thumb
You wanna be numb
Inside the gun
I've been in pain hope it doesn't show
I've been insane well the time is slow
Don't you want sunshine instead of phony lights?
All your billboards in lights
Are one big fight
Against the baby inside
That you've mistaken for pain
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