THE MUMMIES TAKE MANHATTAN (actually Hoboken and Brooklyn)

BACK FROM THE GRAVE: THE MUMMIES AT MAXWELL'S

I was first introduced to the legendary lo-fi outfit The Mummies during my sophomore year of college. Purists of self proclaimed "Budget Rock" may balk that I have only heard the band's material on CD or in digital form (and now live) but even without the added grain of vinyl, The Mummies particular strain of no frills frat rock bluntly blasts away with a furiously loud and snotty swagger. By "frat rock", I don't refer to the omnipresent Jock Jams comps of your youth or the latest T-Pain track but instead to the garage rock precursor that included Cannibal and the Headhunters, The Troggs, Paul Revere and The Raiders, and most famously the Kingsman's rendition of "Louie, Louie". It is these fun loving mischief makers, along with prime garage kindling The Seeds, The Barbarians, Shadows of Knight, and ? and the Mysterians that provide the basis for The Mummies sound. These influences are then funneled through the aggression of The Stooges, The Dictators and perhaps a very pissed off Yardbirds to create a band that is far more interested in provoking the audience into shouted singalongs and good natured jump-and-nudge dancing than the crowd surfing thrash fests of your average punk band (or whatever we're calling them these days).

Along with the Oblivians, The Mummies are exulted as one of the original and most respected bands in the (to put a label on it) garage punk genre. However with The Mummies, the emphasis is certainly on the former (the garage that is). Maybe it's those feel good, San Fran vibes but while The Mummies certainly seem to play harder and with more commitment that most bands I've seen, their is a certain lovable goofiness about them that permeates their lyrics ("You must fight to live on the Planet of the Apes") and their onstage banter (the drummer cracks jokes, Trent the lead singer humps his organ). The Mummies also possess a level of musicianship that is rare in their circles. Guitarist Larry Winther can actually play competent solos that are full of surf rock intonation while drummer Russell Quan beats with more virtuosity than your average snare/hi-hat man.

I attended the later show on Tuesday night which started promptly at 10:30pm with a performance by a recalibrate The Back CCs, a local band of leather clad Japanese (American) punks whose stuff reminds me most of Johnny Thunders' Heartbreakers or perhaps The Reatards. This is at least the third incarnation (that I've seen) of the now four piece Back CCs who played a maraca shaking set of high energy numbers to the crowd's rapt approval if not quite total attention (the mother fucking Mummies were coming up next after all).

The Mummies performed their sound check sounds shrouds but quickly reemerged in full ghoulish garb, which are actually suits and not individual, loose wrappings as I had always imagined. The set list consisted of most their legendary LP Never Been Caught (1992, Telstar) including classics like "Your Ass is Next in Line", "Stonger Than Dirt" and covers such as "Justine" and "Jezebel". Singer/organist Trent Ruane kept his mic mainly dangling from and tugging at his neck like a rock'n'roll masochist glaring with wide eyes at the audience while occasionally pounded out a simple Farfisa riff. The audience had a good time as more virile attendees pushed to the front (and had to keep pushing to stay there) while the more hesitant folks lingered towards the back of the packed Maxwell's room. Audience members shouted out requests, most of which were played at some point (though my roommate kept shouting out Chrome songs, which was ignored). The show was over in a shake with The Mummies, bounding back onstage for a two-three song encore.

The Mummies had not played a show on US soil in 15 years (which was also at Maxwell's). Let's hope they don't wait another generation (though, what's a generation to a Mummy!)

THE BYRDS - FIFTH DIMENSION (1966, Columbia)

FIFTH DIMENSION

America's Beatles take their first magic carpet ride.

The Byrds have often been called America's answer to The Beatles and although their popularity in the 1960s jettisoned them into the stratosphere of rock stardom, today they are frequently just plastered with the "folk-rock" label of their early years while a genre spanning catalog is often stripped down to "Mr. Tambourine Man" and "Turn, Turn, Turn". This leads people to forget that this band was also one of the finest psychedelic, and later country, and even later southern rock bands of its era. Fifth Dimension certainly has some low points ("What's Happening?", "I Come and Stand at Every Door" come to mind) but also some of the least indulgent and carefully gilded songs in the psychedelia genre. Although certainly full of psychedelic moments, Fifth Dimension would be the last LP to still retains the skeleton of folk-rock that the Byrds would later discard for their more experimental excursions, the pop influenced Younger than Yesterday and the kaleidoscopic The Notorious Byrd Brothers. 

After the fear of flying induced departure of primary tunesmith Gene Clark, his songwriting duties were taken up by David Crosby who had yet, or never would, overcome the worst of his free love obsessions. Crosby does manage to muster up some of his best, and least drippy, material including his cover of "Hey Joe", far inferior to The Leaves' little nugget but I certainly prefer Roger McGuinn's 12 string over Hendrix's downtrodden bullshit any day of the week. Crosby is largely credited with introducing "Hey Joe" into the rock catalogue after plucking it from an obscure folk singer-songwriter named Billy Roberts and introducing it to The Leaves and Love, eventually recording it himself as a member of The Byrds. It is a shame that the down tempo Hendrix version is now recognized as the classic rendition over these three fast paced translations. 

Roger himself especially shines on "5D" and his sitar-like runs on "Eight Miles High", which also features throbbing bass lines by Chris Hillman, can be trying but his solos are more precise and restrained then many of his contemporaries. While bands like the Grateful Dead and the Jefferson Airplane placed an emphasis on musicianship over song craft, a choice which has not let their music age all to gracefully, The Byrds, coming originally from the folk and bluegrass scenes, never sacrifice craftsmanship for the sake of psychedelic experimentation, but instead are able to have both, arguably more often than their contemporaries from Liverpool. The instrumental "Captain Soul", featuring ex-Byrd Gene Clark on harmonica and Michael Clarke's "I can hit a drum in time!" drumming, can seem like filler but is well structured, driving and provides an interesting oasis from the more ethereal tracks. The best songs however showcase The Byrds' ability to blend various genres into cohesive radio ready songs. Their is the beautiful "Wild Mountain Thyme", whose three part harmonies are too beautiful to be written off as hippy-dippy folk and the crown jewel of the LP, the country tinged "Mr. Spaceman", chock full of hooks, harmony, and clever lyrics. The McGuinn sung "Mr. Spaceman" in many foreshadows the country tinges of The Notorious Byrd Brothers and especially Sweetheart of the Rodeo. The Byrds had a habit of ending their LPs on off-kilter notes. Fifth Dimension concludes with the sound effects laden "2-4-2 Fox Trot", which strangely works and does not seem quaint in 2009. If you have the CD-reissue you should definitely check out the paranoid, Gene Clark inspired bonus track "Psychodrama City" which could almost pass for a Velvet Underground song until the Byrds harmonies kick in.