Joe (Time To Get Unconscious Again) Fernbacher, Creem, 7/83
On their first record, The Punch Line, the Minutemen shook up the must of hardcore velocity with a quirky philosophy of “well-defined ambiguity” which manifested itself through a thoroughly disarming collection of punk haikus that dazedly re-defined the concept of musical time. In an admittedly surprising mixture of bottom line speed and Beefheartian glaze they gave us some soon to be classic smirks like “History Lesson,” which straightforwardly tells us that “hundred thousand years ago homosapiens stood erect mind empty mind fresh created love and hate created god and antigod human slaughtered human for power,” and “The Punch Line,” a simple passion play about the realities of heroism wherein Custer at his famous last stand not only goes out in a blaze of glory but with a load of crap in his pants. The thing that put the dis in the disarming on this record was the astonishing fact that none of the songs exceeded a minute in length, thus taking what began with the Ramones to its absurdly logical conclusion. So it was with somewhat baited breath that I slid their latest, What Makes A Man Start Fires, onto my two hundred dollar Silvertone Stereo.
Alas, it seemed at first listen that they’ve forsaken the experiments into the blinky lands of absurd velocity which made their first album so noticeable--I mean, some of these tracks actually exceeded the two minute mark. But soon I realized that what the Minutemen might have lost in speediness they’ve made up for in lyrical profundity and absurdity; the music may have slowed down some but the vision’s gotten totally frantic. Which is not to say that all the spalls of speed are gone. Actually some of the strongest material on the record, like “Polarity,” is indeed brief and here, making one believe that by the time they evolve into album side length ’cept LPs, this reviewer will be nothing more than worm fodder. “Sell Or Sold” is the antithesis of the mini-series, “Life As A Rehearsal” is back porch philosophy at its crankiest, and “Mutiny In Jonestown” is a chilling look into what Jim Jones just might have been thinking to himself as he sipped his kool-aid la muerte. My faves also included “The Anchor” and “Beacon Sighted Through Fog,” the latter with lyrics that’d make Capt. Beefheart beam. “And who the hell made the safe man pivots on peripheral vision corkscrew into thought lanterns mufflers flatten thick and planer fit into rolls paced and sad syrup lacking totaled pack a chunk of the sun glue it to your heart hold on.”
The only thing that’s a bit annoying is that, after finally coming to grips with the philosophy of “well-defined ambiguity,” The Minutemen now want me to get behind “chasing the reasons refusing to reason by listing the reasons” and, to tell you the truth, I think that is the kind of philosophical cat and mouse gaming that really does make men start fires, so, if you’ll excuse me, there’s this can of Zippo on the sink and I’m gonna figure out whether or not I should drink it or take it downtown and set the welfare offices all ablaze.
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