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Rating:
Maybe you don't know, but...
... "even before New York and L.A. discovered it, Entertainment! was the soundtrack of all the parties in Athens".
It's not me saying this, but the singer of a band... let's say, QUITE famous from Athens. The most famous. He says it referring to a time when he still had hair. Come on, it's not that hard to figure out...
If you put on "Party Out Of Bounds", track no.1, with its fade-in that gradually raises the volume of Keith Strickland's snare/shotgun and Kate Pierson's synth-bass, you'll hear (after a few seconds) the late Ricky Wilson strum a metallic chord that will remarkably remind you of Andy Gill. The Gang Of Four were devoured in Athens during those months. Little to say. But the "entertainment" of the B-52's was entertainment in the strictest and most laugh-filled sense possible. Athens wasn't Leeds, there were no steel factories; there was the spirit of the college town where all the South's crazy deviants arrived (mostly to study art) and wore wigs and thrift-shop clothes for the sheer fun of it, to "be strange" at night. Athens wasn’t even New York: when the B-52's landed up there, it was like landing on another planet – the environment was too depressed, too intellectual, too inclined to take itself seriously. And they didn’t know the meaning of the word "serious".
If you want to understand who the B-52's are, go watch a video of "Dirty Back Road" - preferably from '80 or so. For someone like me who has always kept a respectful distance from dance floors, and never lived through or understood disco music, seeing Cindy Wilson and Kate Pierson MOVE while singing that piece was a revelation. They were cool as hell, way more than John Travolta and Newton-John – bleah... Cindy with an aircraft carrier on her head, Kate looking like Ann Margret in some movie with Elvis. Sparkling B-movie '50s outfits, heavy makeup: pure kitsch, so brazen it was sublime. EVERYTHING was sublime in those three minutes, and the lyrics (a triumph of double entendres) were not a detail: "you RIDE me like a road" (!), over chords that infectious doesn't begin to describe. And when at the end they started the synchronized "dance" on the tile, it was nothing short of an apotheosis.
And even more enjoyable was listening to two voices blending perfectly. Because Cindy and Kate sang (and sing) like goddesses. But they wouldn't have achieved the status of a perfect party band if between them there wasn't that non-singer, animator, driving force (and great musical brain) that is Fred Schneider. When "Rock Lobster" and the first LP came out, they were the absolute new-thing, and just a few months later they replicated with this second album that - in part - loses a touch of unpredictability, but still holds surprises (just by skimming through the titles)...
...imagine an avid Yes fan asking you, to stump you, what a "topographic ocean" is. Well, you don't need to resurrect faded school memories to silence him, you would just need to counter-question: "And why, do you know what it is, a PRIVATE IDAHO...?". Oh-oh-oh. "Private Idaho" is a masterful piece. For the music (the guitar riff that reveals Ricky's surf training, Kate’s organ sound that preludes to the refrain), but also for the lyrics. Idaho is a metaphor of isolation and sociopathy, a luxurious villa opening onto a bottomless blue pool, and that pool signifies the whirlpool of depression. For this, the song’s message is: "yes, enjoy yourself as much as you can in your golden refuge outside the world, but be very careful (YOU BETTER BEWARE, Fred’s voice sounds menacing), because behind the beautiful facade lies a nasty surprise...". How many party bands could write lyrics of this level?
And how many could transition from the futuristic post-punk of "Running Around" and "Devil In My Car" to the dark scenarios of "Quiche Lorraine", to the stroboscopic rockabilly of "Strobe Light", before reserving an interstellar jaunt "53 Miles West of Venus" for the final 5 minutes of spaced-out cosmic hallucinations...?
...but if you want my personal Masterpiece, that’s "Give Me Back My Man": a rhythm in which there’s all the New Wave of 1980, a tightened sonic structure enriched by ruthless electro-percussions, and... lyrics that encompass all the B-52’s - "I'll give you FISH, I'll give you CANDY, I'll give you everything you want, but you give me back my man...". And that's not all: it’s a spectacular proof of Cindy’s vocal range and endurance - listen closely to the lines "if she don’t get her man back she’s gonna drown", and hear how many moments the "O" of "drown" is prolonged... And in the final part – having fun with overdubbing – a personal concert of voices and counter-voices is constructed to great effect.
Real rating: 4 and something. Personal rating: no less than 5...
...but in this case, I make subjectivity prevail.
Tracklist and Lyrics
01 Party Out Of Bounds (03:21)
Party Out of Bounds
Music & Lyrics by the B-52’s
SUPRIIIIIIZE! PAAAAAARTY!
Yeah, we just thought we'd drop in!
Where's your icebox?
Where's the punch?
Ew, house-a-tosis!
Who's to blame when parties really get out of hand?
Who's to blame when they get poorly planned?
Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoooo-ooooooooo.
Crashers get bombed, slobs make a mess.
Ya know sometimes they'll even ruin your wife's dress.
Crashers getttin' bombed. (Who's to blame?)
Can you pull it back in line?
Can you salvage it in time?
What can you do to save a party?
Parcheesi? Charades? A spur-of-the-moment
Scavenger hunt, or Queen of the Nile? (WOOOOOOOOOOH!)
Who turned out the lights! (WOOOOOOOOOOH!)
Bombed, crashers gettin' bombed
crashers gettin' bombed, bombed, bombed, bombed, well who's to blame?
Who's to blame when situations degenerate?
Disgusting things you'd never anticipate?
Hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoooo-ooooooooo.
People get sick, they play the wrong games.
Ya know, it can ruin your name!
Crashers gettin' bombed. (Who's to blame?)
Can you pull it back in line?
Can you salvage it in time?
WOOOOOOOOOOOH!
It shouldn't be difficult!
Try not to condemn!
O.K. Who ordered pizza?
I'll be tactful when making the rounds
Be tactful when making the rounds
and maybeee you can save a parteeee.
Party gone out of bounds!
Gone out of bounds!
Party gone out of bounds!
Gone out of bounds!
04 Give Me Back My Man (04:00)
She cuts her hair
and calls his name.
Wishin' everything could be the same,
like when she had him.
I'll give you fish,
I'll give you candy,
I'll give you everthing I have in my hand.
Walking out of Korvettes,
Package in her hand.
Motions to all the seabirds,
throws divinity on the sand.
I'll give you fish,
I'll give you candy,
I'll give you everthing I have in my hand.
Give me, give back my man.
Give me, give back my man.
Her head's in a whirlpool,
spinnin' round and round.
If she don't get her man back
she's gonna drown.
I'll give you fish,
I'll give you candy,
I'll give you everything I have in my hand.
Give her, give back her man,
Give her, give back her man. (repeat)
05 Private Idaho (03:35)
Hoo Hoo Hoo Hoo Hoo Hoo Hoo Hoo Hoo
You're living in your own Private Idaho
Living in your own Private Idaho
Underground like a wild potato.
Don't go on the patio.
Beware of the pool,
blue bottomless pool.
It leads you straight
right throught the gate
that opens on the pool.
You're living in your own Private Idaho.
You're living in your own Private Idaho.
Keep off the path, beware of the gate,
watch out for signs that say "hidden driveways".
Don't let the chlorine in your eyes
blind you to the awful surprise
that's waitin' for you at
the bottom of the bottomless blue blue blue pool.
You're livin in your own Private Idaho. Idaho.
You're out of control, the rivers that roll,
you fell into the water and down to Idaho.
Get out of that state,
get out of that state you're in.
You better beware.
You're living in your own Private Idaho.
You're living in your own Private Idaho.
Keep off the patio,
keep off the path.
The lawn may be green
but you better not be seen
walkin' through the gate that leads you down,
down to a pool fraught with danger
is a pool full of strangers.
You're living in your own Private Idaho,
where do I go from here to a better state than this.
Well, don't be blind to the big surprise
swimming round and round like the deadly hand
of a radium clock, at the bottom of the pool.
I-I-I-daho
I-I-I-daho
Woah oh oh woah oh oh woah oh oh
Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah
Get out of that state
Get out of that state
You're living in your own Private Idaho,
livin in your own Private.... Idaho
06 Devil In My Car (04:28)
HELP! The devil's in my car.
HELP! The devil's in my car.
HELP! The devil's in my car.
Ho, devil's in my car, whoa please
PLEASE! Leave me alone!
We're really tearin' tar.
We're goin' 90 miles an hour.
Ho! He's drivin' me crazy.
He's drivin' me to Hell now.
He's pointing his pitchfork at me.
He's in the front seat of my car!
He's taking over!
Oo, he ripped my upholstry.
He's at the wheel,
HELP! The devil's in my car.
HELP! He's drivin' too far.
(scream!) Ooooooh!
Whoooa!
I can't lock the door,
I can't put on my safety belt.
There's nothing for me to do but yell HELP!
Devil's in my car!
I'm goin' to Hell in my old Chevrolet,
I don't know which way.
Oh, HELP! Devil's in my car!
Yeah, yeah. He's gone too far.
I won't see ya tomorrow.
I won't see ya anymore.
He's got his cloven hoof on the clutch.
Oh! Ow! I'm sitting on his tail.
Oh-Ohh, I don't wanna go to Hell.
(I don't wanna go to the devil.)
He's in my car, in my car, in my car.
Ohhhh-waaaaahhh!
The radio gives me static,
there's nothing on my CB.
Oh, HELP! the devil's in my car.
Oh, he's in my car. He's in my car.
The devil's in my car.
We're turning off the road.
Oh! Where ya taking me devil?
Oh! He's grinning door to door.
He's got his cloven hoof on the clutch.
HELP ME!
Oh, I don't wanna go to Hell.
(I don't wanna go to the devil.)
He's in my car.
Freeway to Hell.
We're burning up the road.
Freeway to Hell. (Right through the tollbooth)
We're burning up the road.
Freeway to Hell. (Right through the guardrail)
We're burning up the road.
Freeway to Hell. (Across the median)
We're burning up the road.
Freeway to Hell. (Would you slow down?)
We're burning up the road.
I've got the devil juice in my CARburater!
I've got the devil in my cigarette lighter.
I don't need no battery (I got the devil in my car).
In my car. In my car-oh!
In my car
In my car
In my car
In my car
In my car
07 Quiche Lorraine (03:58)
The skies are charcoal grey,
It's a dreary downtown day,
But at the end of my 40 foot leash,
Is my little friend Quiche.
Quiche La Poodle is her name
And having a good time on a crummy day is our game.
Quiche Quiche Lorraine
Quiche Quiche Lorraine
Everyday I take her out. Yea!
She runs around, she shouts out and barks, Yea!
Cause she's a good doggie
She's a sweet, sweet, sweet PUPPY! Arf Arf
And I know she'll stick by me, Yea! Arf Arf
Oh no! Here comes a Great Dane
Drivin' down the lane
Quiche, Quiche, Quiche come back here;
Don't leave me.
I'll go insane.
I'll go insane.
How do you like that?
Has anybody seen a dog dyed dark green.
About two inches tall, with a strawberry blonde fall;
Sunglasses and a bonnet
and designer jeans with appliques on it?
The dog that brought me so much joy
Left me wallowing in pain.
Quiche Lorraine.
I'll show her!
Do you see the key in my hand?
I'm gonna throw it in the lake.
Yea, you've been so rotten to me,
You take the cake.
I'm just gonna lock the door to your kennel,
and just you try and come back to me.
Yea, you'll see.
Quiche Quiche Lorraine You mangey mutt.
Quiche Quiche Lorraine I'm talking about Quiche!
Quiche Quiche Lorraine Quiche Lorraine!
08 Strobe Light (03:59)
Where's my telephone?
Is that you baby? Yeah!
Got something to tell ya. Oh, what?
I wanna see ya tonight.
I want you to walk in the door.
I want you to lay on the floor.
Cause tonight's the night.
We make love under a strobe light.
Underneath the strobe light.
Wanna make love to you under the strobe light.
Wanna make love to you under the strobe light.
Strobe light, wooooooah, strobe light, wooooooah, yeah!
Pulsin' light goes to my head!
Everything I see is red!
Baby, when I kiss your hair,
I feel electricity in the air.
I'm gonna kiss your eyes. (gasp)
Then I'm gonna kiss your neck. (groan)
Then I'm gonna kiss your tummy. (oooh!)
Then I'm gonna kiss your PINEAPPLE! (shriek!)
Tonight's the night for love under the light.
Strobe light, strobe light.
Underneath the strobe light.
Wanna make love to you under the strobe light.
Wanna make love to you under the strobe light.
Strobe light, wooooooah, strobe light, wooooooah, yeah!
I just wanna make love to you.
I just wanna make love to you.
Underneath the strobe light.
Strobe light! Strobe light! Strobe light!
Strobe light! Strobe light!
Strobe strobe strobe strobe strobe light.
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