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The undersigned Lorenzo, aka De...Marga... et Genital Grinder, has an excessive, exaggerated, borderline pathological love for the PRAIMUS.
And this fact has already been stated and written several dozen times on the pages of Debaser; you also know that the leader Les Claypool, whether you believe it or not, has long been my not too distant cousin. Many things unite us; first of all, the not exactly idyllic smell emitted by our individual bodies. Besides, there's a saying that "Primus and De...Marga...Sucks!!!!"
This imaginative and rambling introduction serves to introduce to you the collection that our guys released on the musical scene in the second part of 2006. A sort of compendium that goes to retrieve the singles published by the Californians in the first part of their phantasmagoric career; from the seismic beginnings of 1990 to the more (il)logical scorching psychedelia of the last track "Mary the Ice Cube."
I possess (Possessed) all the albums of the unruly trio, including some rare singles. But I didn't give a darn fig about that and at the time of the release of They Can't All Be Zingers I snatched it up in the rare (and expensive) double vinyl version. Which I then habitually consumed, consumed, and consumed on my modest stereo setup for the (non) joy of the neighborhood: because Primus' music is listened to at a blaring volume.
Where do I start this new good news of mine?
From the cheesy cover that recalls the famous "Sailing the Seas of Cheese"; from the writings that accompany the artwork, reminding us once again how the band always seeks irony, goofing around, even making fun of us buyers. Indeed, things of this nature can be read and translated on the cover in this humorous manner: "Sixteen slices of creamy audio goodness" (how could I not credit you, my good cousin!!!). And again: "Our classic songs repackaged for your convenient listening and for our economic benefit" (Couldn’t be clearer!!!!!!).
Then finally come the tracks where the usual cosmic turmoil reigns, the controlled chaos resulting from technique that knows no bounds. The piercing bass and the cartoonish nasal voice "alive and kicking" of Les; the drums ready to dictate syncopated and skewed times first from Tim and subsequently from Brain. And lastly, the sometimes lazy guitar, which seems to head off in a completely different direction, playing sometimes ahead or behind what you’d expect: it’s Larry LaLonde handling the six-string.
Thus they create that sound, that modus operandi that unabashedly revisits the lessons of sacred monsters like Zappa, Pink Floyd, Residents, King Crimson, Minutemen, George Clinton...etc...etc...etc...I have intentionally skipped a few.
But in the end, it's only and solely about Primus; because nothing and no one has ever sounded like them. I have long decreed and am ready to confirm it all even under any kind of torture.
Because "My name is Mud" and above all "I am ready to fight the laws of tradition."
For those who are unaware of the musical saga, still ongoing, of Primus, it is recommended to view such a work of art. In small doses because they are addictive: I am certain of it, believe me...You hit (Enrico) Papi...
Ad Maiora.
Tracklist and Lyrics
02 John the Fisherman (03:37)
One...two...
One, two, three, four.
When he was young
You'd not find him doing well in school.
His mind would turn unto the waters.
Always the focus of adolescent ridicule,
He has no time for farmer's daughters.
Alienated from the clique society,
A lonely boy finds peace in fishing.
His mother says,
"John, this is not the way life's supposed to be."
"Don't you see the life that you miss?"
And he says...
When I grow up I want to be,
One of the harvesters of the sea.
I think before my days are done,
I want to be a fisherman.
Now years gone by we find the man who rules the sea.
He sets out on a dark May morning.
To bring his catch back to this small community.
He doesn't see the danger dawning.
Four hours up, oh the ocean swelled and swelled,
The fog rolled in it started raining.
"The starboard bow! Oh my God we're going down!"
They do not hear his frantic mayday.
And he says...
When I grow up I want to be,
One of the harvesters of the sea.
I think before my days are done,
I want to be a fisherman.
"I'll live and die a fisherman."
Calling John the Fisherman...
03 Too Many Puppies (03:58)
Too many puppies are being shot in the dark.
Too many puppies are trained not to bark.
At the sight of blood that must be spilled so that we may maintain
our oil fields.
Too many puppies.
Too many puppies.
Too many puppies are taught to heel.
Too many puppies are trained to kill.
On the command of men wearing money belts that buy mistresses
sleek animal pelts.
Too many puppies.
Too many puppies.
Too many puppies.
Too many puppies.
Too many puppies with guns in their hands.
Too many puppies in foreign lands.
Are dressed up sharp in suits of green and placed upon the war
machine.
Too many puppies are just like me.
Too many puppies are afraid to see.
The visions of the past brought to life again,
too many puppies, too many dead men.
04 Jerry Was a Race Car Driver (03:11)
Jerry was a race car driver
He drove so goddamned fast
He never did win no checkered flag
But he never did come in last
Jerry was a race car driver
He'd say "El solo number one"
With a bocephus sticker on his 442
He'd light 'em up just for fun
Captain Pierce was a fireman
Richmond engine #3
I'll be a wealthy man when I get a dime
For all the things that man taught to me
Captain Pierce was a strong man
Strong as any man alive
It stuck in his craw
That they made him retire at the age of 65
"Dog will hunt"
Jerry was a race car driver
22 years old
Had too many cold beers one night
And wrapped himself around a telephone pole
06 Tommy the Cat (04:14)
" well I remember as though it were a meal ago"
Said Tommy the Cat as he reeled back to clear whatever foreign matter
may have nestled its way into his mighty throat.
Many a fat alley rat had met its demise while staring point blank down
the cavernous barrel of this awesome prowling machine.
Truly a wonder of nature this urban predator.
Tommy the cat had many a story to tell,
But it was a rare occasion such as this that he did.
She came slidin' down the alleyway like butter drippin' off a hot biscuit.
The aroma, the mean scent, was enough to arouse suspicion in even the
oldest of Tigers that hung around the hot spot in those days.
The sight was beyond belief.
Many a head snapped for double - even triple - takes as this vivacious
feline made her her way into the delta of the alleyway where the most
virile of the young tabbys were known to hang out.
They hung in droves. Such a multitude of masculinity could only be
found in one place...
And that was O'malley's Alley.
The air was thick with cat calls (no pun intended),
But not even a muscle in her neck did twitch
as she sauntered straight into the heart of the alleyway.
She knew what she wanted.
She was lookin' for that stud bull, she was looking for that he cat.
And that was me.
Tommy the Cat is my name and I say unto thee...
Say baby do you wanna lay down with me
Say baby do you wanna lay down by my side
Ah baby do you wanna lay down with me
Say baby?...Say baby?
07 My Name Is Mud (04:45)
My name is Mud
Not to be confused with Bill or Jack or Pete or Dennis
My name is mud and it's always been
'Cause I'm the most boring sons-a-bitch you've ever seen
I dress in blue-yes navy blue
From head to toe I'm rather drab except my patent shoes
I make 'em shine, well most the time
'Cept today my feet are troddin' on by this friend of mine
Six foot two and rude as hell
I got to get him in the ground before he starts to smell
My name is Mud
My name is Mud, but call me Aloysius Devadander Abercrombie
That's long for Mud so I've been told
Told that by this sonsabitch that lies before me bloated blue and cold
I've got my pride, I drink my wine
I'd drink only the finest 'cept I haven't earned a dime in several months
Or were it years
The breath on that fat bastard could bring any man to tears
We had our words, a common spat
So I kissed him upside the cranium with that aluminum baseball bat
My name is Mud
09 DMV (04:56)
I've been to hell. I spell it...
I spell it DMV
Anyone that's been there
knows precisely what I mean
Stood there and I've waited
and choked back the urge to scream
And if I had my druthers
I'd screw a chimpanzee
call it pointless
When I need relief I spell it THC
Perhaps you may know vaguely what I mean
I sit back and smoke away
huge chunks of memory
As I slowly inflict upon
myself a full lobotomy
call it pointless
Barbecues, tea kettles, gobs of axle grease
There comes a time for every man
To sail the seas of cheese
Now, life's a bowl of bagel dogs,
but there are unpleasantries
Cold toilet seats, dentist chairs
and trips to DMV
call it pointless
I've been to hell. I spell it...
I spell it DMV
Anyone that's been there knows
precisely what I mean
I've stood in line and waited
near an hour and fifteen
And if I had my druthers
I'd screw that chimpanzee
call it pointless
10 Over the Electric Grapevine (06:23)
They headed southward from San Francisco,
To be with Chuckles and the others.
With electric in the air and peroxide in their hair,
They looked like golden brothers.
They drove a Datsun, an automatic,
The radio blaring static,
He made a face into the light
and burst out laughing at the sight.
The hysteria ensuing would dominate the night.
From all the candy, the seats were sticky,
As they were drawn into the grapevine.
Then "Introduce Yourself" came on
as they barreled through the gog.
The demon puffing madly on a mentholated log.
They were tired, they were sleepy,
So they parked behind the Roxy.
Adam left to use the phone, so he sat there all alone,
When Adam's voice come beaming through on the radio,
He started laughing...
12 Southbound Pachyderm (06:23)
Quite a surprise
What an ingenious device
Boredom encompasses my time
I don't know what I should do
Indulging a moment of your time
Seldom the breeder of lies
But you won't believe that it's true
They take to the sky
Southbound Pachyderm
Pinholes through cardboard
At the Sun
Passing the bucks by one by one
Leaving nothing in return
Watching the majest blow past
Speculating which will be the last
Savoring my piece of pie
And there is no reprise
They're filling the sky
Southbound Pachyderm
13 Over the Falls (02:41)
They broke out in laughter again
His lip beaded with sweat as they strapped him in
And he stood by and waited to be called
The talk was of times that'd gone by
And the quantity and quality of women they lie
His eyes welled with wet and his mouth had gone dry
As he stood by and waited to be called
He stood by and waited to be called
He stood by and waited like the others before
For his turn to go over the falls
He got up and tried it again
For lack of persistence is surely a sin
As he stood by and waited to be called
He looked to the lightning with glee
And admired his vessel for its symmetry
Feeling twelve units shy of a bachelor's degree
As he stood by and waited to be called
He stood by and waited to be called
He stood by and waited like the others before
For his turn to go over the falls
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