Primus
Green Naugahyde

The time jump that this September 2011 holds for us seems almost planned by occult forces, united to bring to light the great season of the American crossover (funk+metal, although labels in this case are truly superfluous and limiting) which had its peak between the late eighties and early nineties. In these days, almost simultaneously, three pillars of a sound that has set a precedent will be released, three bands that, starting from the same ideals, have traveled different paths and achieved different success, but ultimately, one way or another, are still standing: Red Hot Chili Peppers, Jane's Addiction and Primus. Who knows, perhaps driven by the emotional wave, people will go and dust off the old records of other fellow travelers: Infectious Grooves, Faith No More, Living Colour, Fishbone, Scat Opera, White Trash, Psychefunkapus (seek their Skin), 24-7 Spyz, Scatterbrain, bands that put inventiveness and imagination at the head of their sound.

Primus, recently seen during the two Italian stops (Rome and Vigevano) of their tour in June, return to record after Antipop (1999). Nearly twelve years of absence, and they manage to release an album that doesn't show the slightest signs of aging while taking large doses of the peculiarities that made Frizzle Fry (1990) Sailing The Seas Of Cheese (1991) and Pork Soda (1993) unique works to understand the rock evolution of those years and which indelibly marked the uniqueness of Primus, a group uncategorizable as it is inimitable and unique, where instrumental technique perfectly marries irony and non-sense.

The timid signals of a return were witnessed last year, with the release of an EP of 4 old songs re-played with the band's first drummer Jay Lane (who, in fact, never appeared on any previous Primus album) and it's precisely he who is the biggest novelty of a lineup that revolves around the flair of Les Claypool (in these years the protagonist of a thousand other projects, solo and with Jay Lane, some of which are worth rediscovering) and his amazing bass and the disorienting guitar of Larry Lalonde, who did not have too many problems leaving the proto-death metal of the ill-fated Possessed in the far-flung 1989 to join Claypool's court.
Certainly superior to Antipop, Green Naugahyde marks a new beginning for the Californian band. Primus no longer need to prove anything, nor do they need to shake or mock better than others. What they had to say has been said, now they move within the rooms of their habitus, the inevitability of continuing to live doing what has always been done best. Like martial arts masters, having reached the age where it's impossible to fly two meters over opponents' heads or break bricks with a touch of iron fingers, Primus shift from an aggressive, dynamic, and explosive style, to an internal, soft style, more about breathing than force, and for this shift, the participation of everyone is necessary.

Preceded by a brief intro (Prelude to a Crawl), as soon as Hennepin Crawler starts, you understand why Primus have rightfully entered among the cult bands of alternative rock. Claypool's bass and voice, here less bizarre and eccentric than usual, mark the song, imprinting the signature. It's still them, you can continue safely.
Claypool's love for the sport of fishing also returns in the six abundant minutes of Last Salmon Man, a small summary of Primus thought with Lalonde as the protagonist and many small surprises inside.
The great technique of the three members in the psychedelic moments with the acid guitar and the paroxysmal finale of Eyes Of The Squirrel, the progressive territories ridden by Jilly's On Smack which detaches from the rest with its leaden and liquid atmospheres up to Green Ranger, almost a "splattered" extract from a Pink Floyd record.
Tragedy's a' Comin' leaves you stunned by how the monstrous instrumental technique can marry so well with funk and pop.

Then there's the more grotesque and bizarre side of Eternal Consumption Engine, without paying the ticket, we are catapulted into a big circus tent with the sad solarity of a clown who gives the moods to the song. Lee Van Cleef resumes the discourse started by Wynona's Big Brown Beaver in 1995 and here Claypool's bass is a marvel while in HOINFODAMAN we can hear the heaviest guitar riff of the record and the most grotesque vocal lines as if they had just come out of a Disney cartoon.
Totally out of control and indecipherable Moron TV and Extinction Burst, improvisations, Zappa-like virtuosity, flair, and many plot twists, all the prerogatives we expected in this eagerly awaited return of Primus.

The comeback of the year.