THE JESUS LIZARD – RACK

Everyone has a story, or some sordid tale of a band performance and the electricity surrounding it. Fortunately, I have a few, of several different bands. But some of you may know, or even remember seeing a “Tight n Shiny,” a signature move by the Jesus Lizard’s David Yow. It’s, um, expressive to say the least but the other memory that comes to mind is the group lost in oblivion as Yow howls in my face, “MAKE ME, ANOTHER BOILERMAKER! MAKE ME, ANOTHER BOILERMAKER!” Yes, it isn’t easy to forget.

Now after 26 years the band finally takes its place back in the limelight, or at least the broken street lamp on some graffiti-scratched corner of Chicago. With a catalog notorious for having four-letter names, the Jesus Lizard returns with its new Rack (Ipecac Recordings) and this time the band picks up where it left off.  With the band’s earlier releases, we’d always find Yow’s vocals treated/muffled as he howled coasting on top of Duane Denison’s guitar chords as David Sims & Mac McNeilly ravaged the rhythm of every song. The band’s growth allowed more clarity in his vocals, as they are now. The band has always been lumped together with “noise rock” bands in the 90s and we can only assume it’s because the group moved frantically with so much kinetic energy building through their respective instruments. No, the band was aggressive and loud but always delivered structured rock music pieces. The opening “Hide & Seek” gives way to Yow’s clear love & hate relationship, peppered with Dennison’s dissonant guitar notes and chords while Sims & McNeilly propel the song up until Yow’s demise. That’s the way to start things, and it doesn’t end there, as “Armistice Day,” like a slow drawl invites you in with its sludgy rhythm that moves mountains. Again it’s Dennison’s nimble fingers that accentuate Yow’s words.

There’s always a build-up around the Jesus Lizard’s music but it’s “What If?”, with its brief, creepy story, that just lingers. Oddly enough, it lulls listeners in with its rhythm which barely shifts but still mesmerizes. “Alexis Feels Sick” is catchy, and while it revolves around Alexis Fleisig’s opinion(s) of how humanity treats itself, it delivers the Jesus Lizard’s signature delivery of rhythm & lead, equally obliterating everything in its path. Yow glides right over it all. But it’s the much cleaner “Swan The Dog” that I gravitate to with its abrupt stop/starts added in for good measure before the band reverts back to its aggressive nature filled with odd lyricism that leaves us all intrigued.

The years may have passed but the energy delivered by the Jesus Lizard in 2024 is unrelenting. Rack finds the band in perfect form leaving its inhibitions behind. Oh, wait, no, the Jesus Lizard never had any inhibitions to begin with. This is sheer unadulterated rock and I’m sure no fucks are given if you don’t enjoy this.

CURSIVE – DEVOURER

At some point, we all seem to lose sight of what our actual goals might be or may have been. This doesn’t apply to everyone but probably more than we might imagine. Enter Cursive, that indie rock band out of Omaha, Nebraska that’s always been able to what they learned from punk, post-punk, and experimental outfits to create a wide spectrum of sound since its inception back in 1995. While the group has shifted membership throughout the years, the lineup has been stable since 2018 with Tim Kasher (vocals, guitar, organ) Ted Stevens (guitar, vocals), Matt Maginn (bass, vocals), Megan Siebe (cello), Clint Schnase (drums, percussion), Patrick Newbery (keys) and Pat Oakes (drums). Just releasing its 10^th long-player in Devourer (Run For Cover Records), the well-seasoned outfit has managed to maneuver from youthful angst to weathered disillusionment. But that doesn’t come at a price though.

As the band ages gracefully, on its new album, the band is offering up lyricism that circles around a frustration juxtaposed with oddly clever pop backdrops. This isn’t new territory for Cursive though, it’s only the perspective that has shifted. Fans of the band who have followed grown with it surely have an understanding of Cursive’s tongue-in-cheek wordplay. But it’s the music as well, while not detracting from its own identity, has evolved. The band rocks with the fervor of a million burning suns on “Botch Job,” as instruments leave little to no breathing room for Kasher, but he makes his way regardless. Here his gritty voice spews discontent with the human body; as we get older, some things work the same, others don’t. The reliance on medical assistance Isn’t a predictable one and how you abuse yourself throughout the years, come on, it catches up to all of us somehow. Until death, which we sometimes welcome. Like an ocean, guitars, drums, keys, and strings; all crash against one another. It’s a storm that matches Kasher’s words. The quirky “Up And Away,” has much more pop sensibilities offset by dissonant notes, as the strings fill empty space. And here’s where the contrast comes as Kasher laments about unfulfilled dreams as he’s matured. Clever indeed.

Now while Cursive has never been a political outfit, on “Rookie” they take a stern look at political posturing. Musically, the group is intense whether it hits its highs and lows, and strings come in to move alongside & blend with bleeding guitars and powerful drums. But it’s the lyricism that’ll catch your ear we hear what someone enraptured by the draw of politicians becomes the greatest fanatic, finding some kind of meaning to their lackluster lives. “Dead End Days” just might be what you expect, and much like The Smiths, the band can wrap the most depressing subject matter around sugary pop sweetness. The pensiveness is direct and I’m not sure if it’s a nod, but when Kasher sings “Some bigger than others,” the cadence sounds like something Morrissey would have dropped years ago. This is one of my favorites here as is the nostalgia-laced “Dark Star” where Kasher takes a swing at the human condition and succumbs to our most base urges, keeping religion at a distance, sort of. Regardless, it’s the melody and his way of delivering thick-blood curdling lyrics that amaze, hitting those instrumental notes precisely with his voice.

There’s such a wide array of subject matter the band touches on, and eloquently delivers it through its music and lyricism. Through Devourer, the band has shown its maturity and expressiveness. At times Kasher might be self-deprecating or simply generalizing for his generation, but any way you slice it, this album is probably the band’s most realized work to date and one of the best of the year.

DALE CROVER – GLOSSOLALIA

We are not strangers. Well, Dale Crover isn’t a stranger to many anyway. He has a long and storied carrier, most notably as the drummer for sludge-rock outfit Melvins but has also performed on recordings by Nirvana, Redd Kross, Conan Neutron, Porn, and others. What some may not be aware of is since 2016, he’s been releasing solo material of his own. While Crover remains a sought after drummer, he’s no slouch in the songwriting department either. His new Glossolalia (Joyful Noise Recordings) is proof of that.

While there’s no urgency to move frantically from track to track, Crover knows how to take his time, it’s about the build up after all. If there’s a style he fancies, it’s probably mostly noted as a garage psych rock fascination that weaves together tracks that don’t bend or break under pressure. “Ring” is a good example of it as he’s joined by Soundgarden’s Kim Thayil on guitar. Simple strumming and a slight turn of the wrist for brief solos as Crover coos and swings through the track in just under the five minute mark. The backing harmonies aren’t forced and allow the track to take on a life all its own. I don’t know if it’s just me but with the driving “Jane,” Crover sounds a lot like Tom Petty. Anyone? Just me? But moving on… “I Quit” is probably what I’d refer to as an indie-rock banger. There’s no flash or over-the-top solo antics, but Crover rides the rhythm, driving across a landscape, taking it all in and creating a hauntingly beautiful melody. Somewhere in between though, squealing guitars edge around dissonance & feedback, shimmering in its brilliance.

There are moments where Crover covers ground around psych-stoner movements on “I Waited Forever” which features Rob Crow (Pinback, Anal Trump). Living out in the desert myself now, this just might be drive-time music so long as someone passes a spliff. It’s repetitive but far from repetitious with limited lyrical wordplay that doesn’t need much. Mostly clean guitars would cut through any clutter if there was any, with a simple rhythm that’s pretty infectious. Now of course we had to continue the drive with the slow burner “Don’t Worry About It” which was completely unexpected. Like a stripped down Pink Floyd that gets directly to the point. It’s spacey and Rob Crow appears once again, coming in for the assist with guitar and backing vocals. There’s just this subtle beauty swirling all around it. The harder rocky wall strewn across “Spoiled Daisies” features proto-rocker Ty Segall as he antes up with crunchy riffing and some solos here. Crover leaves no ground untouched with a clear-cut vision tying songs together.

If anyone comes to Glossolalia expecting Melvins or any other outfit Dale Crover has been a part of, strike the thought of it. This album expresses just one man’s musical direction and view. I hope I’m always there to take that ride with him.