Jesus Lizard

One of the masterpieces of 1991 is “Goat”, the second LP by Chicago's Jesus Lizard. A record that deserves to be remembered as one of the most visceral albums of all time, quite apart from the considerable weight it exerted on the post-hardcore and noise scene of the Nineties.

Noise, but on their own terms. Two of the four had cut their teeth in Scratch Acid, and that counted for a lot in shaping the sound of Jesus Lizard, who with the songs on “Goat” pushed the fusion of roots melodies and noise-rock abrasion to its highest level, both musically and in terms of imagery. Steve Albini had done something similar in his lyrics, while musically the way had been paved ten years earlier by the Birthday Party, with their bluesy post-punk. Jesus Lizard, though, pushed further, creating an almost unique case in rock. Three exceptional, singular instrumentalists (above all guitarist Duane Denison, trained in flamenco and equal parts son of Keith Levene and Jimmy Paige, and singular in his total rejection of effects pedals) play intricate rhythms and textures. Then the most graceless of singers delights in throwing it all into disarray. That's David Yow, a true master at using his technically limited voice in an expressionist, thoroughly unorthodox way. Screams, snarls, retches, grunts – any means necessary to unsettle the listener, to shock them, to convey with raw cynicism that sense of degradation, psychological violence and disaffection (just read the horrific, grotesque lyrics, always laced with the right amount of irony). Don't mistake any of this for sloppiness: everything is placed with surgical precision, from Yow's braying to the odd-time drumming of Mac MacNeilly, and, last but not least, Steve Albini's excellent production makes it all even more claustrophobic and damn near perfect.

The nine tracks – flawless from first to last – are remarkably consistent with one another, yet full of variation: ramshackle electric blues, geometric, hammering drum patterns, bursts of distortion and, above all, that murky, irresistible bass groove courtesy of Mr. David Sims. “Then Comes Dudley” opens quietly, sobbing with its high, building guitar melody that stalls and unravels into a coda of pull-offs; the lyrics are gorgeous, an example of surreal, irrational violence. Next comes “Mouth Breather”, with a brilliant, lopsided riff in 6/4 that seems to jam and restart in 3/4, while Yow howls a tale of piss and blood.

The most direct and effective track is “Nub”: driving drums, a killer bassline and the rollercoaster of slide guitar distortion, sounding practically like a chainsaw thanks to Denison's aluminum guitar. More theatrical, “Seasick” mimics the phobia of drowning; Yow is immense, conveying such an irrational, uncontrolled feeling through his performance.

Another gem is the thoroughly drugged-up “Monkey Trick”, perhaps the masterpiece of Jesus Lizard's entire discography. The track is extremely cinematic, unfolding like a sequence of scenes: first a burst of noise, then a shrill, dissonant melody interrupted by a piercing scream right in the middle of a crescendo. It's impossible to describe the song's overall arc except step by step, given how many different situations it passes through and how many times it circles back to the center of this labyrinth. What's certain is that the band's compositional level here is out of the ordinary.

A showcase of eclecticism and class, “Karpis” is a neurotic, urban country-rock number that frames a prison story; “Lady Shoes”, meanwhile, ties in with that horror-redneck imagery of madness in small-town America, driven by an incessant bass that pumps away relentlessly until Yow's final outburst. The show closes with “Rodeo In Joliet”, the longest, slowest and most desolate track on the record. The vocal is practically a graceless howl, so ugly yet so touching in painting a barren, lifeless scene.

By the time it's over, your heart is still racing, as after a terrible fright or some great exertion. “Goat” is precisely that: a sudden, unstoppable experience that never lets you catch your breath, thanks to its blend of raw hyperrealism in the lyrics and a massive dose of adrenaline in the music. This, ladies and gentlemen, is noise-rock!

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31/10/2006