I was never a huge fan. My initial take was, what is this?
Village Voice critic Robert Christgau in reviewing this very album called them “the world’s greatest new-wave kiddie-novelty disco-punk band’ – a bit of a left-handed compliment, though he gave the album a B-plus.
The group’s first ‘hit’ on their first album– ‘Rock Lobster– with its undulating yodel chirps and big twang single string guitar (at least that’s how it sounded) would lend to that feeling this is of the novelty ilk destined for Dr. Demento.
I mean they are chortling over a crustacean for goodness sakes.
But the years and several second listens have softened me on the B-52’s.
They were more than a novelty act. Stripping down the instruments, unloading any trace of the blues, the B-52’s simply made people happy. Many people for a long time.
They were the opposite of the venomous Sex Pistols (not saying venom doesn’t have a place.) They wanted to party out of bounds at the Love Shack. The only bad things in B52ville were when you took to living in your own private Idaho or you lose Quiche Lorraine, that doggie dyed green.
Over the years I’ve come to appreciate, in moderation, their chirpy cheery camp and thift-store chic. This is not a record I’d put on to stretch out on the couch and read the paper, but ‘Party Out of Bounds’ off this record or ‘Love Shack’ coming a decade later, are good anchors for any party mixtape (remember those?).
Counting down my 678 vinyl records before I die of brain disease.
One young evening during my freshman year at the University of Georgia I walked next door from my dorm in Reed Hall to Memorial Hall. There was a concert going on, and to these 19-year-old ears calibrated on what would later be called classic rock and southern rock, it seemed out of bounds.
It was a free concert by the Swimming Pool Q’s and the newly famous B-52’s.
This was 1978, nearly a decade before this entertaining, shoestring documentary
In 1987, ‘Athens, Ga.–Inside/Out’ came out with its running commentary by my man Ort.
I had it in VHS, lost it, then DVD, lost it, but I still have the vinyl record.
Now by 1987 this New Wave, alternative, punk thing had been filtering through the music industry for a while, seeping into the mainstream where the masses drink.
The B-52’s truly created a new sound; the Swimming Pool Q’s are still on my turntable after all these years. (Bob Elsey gets my vote for underrated understated guitarist of all time). Love Tractor has a bizarro Christmas album I recommend checking out.
And Ort? Well I haven’t lived in Athens for more than 30 years. But my parents are still there. I went to high school there and did a year at UGA. I have come back to Athens quite a bit over the years. But I haven’t seen Ort in a long time. A downtown Athens fixture, Ort is a music history savant. I used to sit down with Ort and talk about music for hours over beer (me buying).
But neither Ort, nor the Q’s, nor the B-52’s is on this record, which is the soundtrack of the documentary. The documentary chronicles what these aforementioned folks wrought, so to speak. Athens was a hip little cauldron anchored and fueled by the university, surrounded by swimming holes and pine forests. And there was kudzu, the invasive species in the South that greened up nearly every bridge, old barn and derelict wall around. There’s a metaphor growing in there somewhere. REM featured kudzu on its first full album, ‘Murmur.’
REM is clearly the standout on this record, with a cover of ‘(All I’ve Got to Do is) Dream’ and their own ‘Swan Swan H.’ The rest are songs from bands that achieved varying degrees of success at levels well below REM: Love Tractor, the Squalls, Pylon, Time Toy, Kilkenny Cats, and Flat Duo Jets.
The Jets played some wild rockabilly punk, but, alas, Jason and the Scorchers, not from Athens, were better at this. My God, Pylon, considered one of Athens’ most dynamic live groups, blisters with ‘Stop It.’ If that doesn’t make you bang your head, check your pulse.
Time Toy does some stream of consciousness, white rap slam poetry behind the rhythmic guitar sound of Paul ‘Buzz’ Hammond.
I went to Cedar Shoals high school with Paul and was a friend long long time ago. I lent him my acoustic guitar, which I couldn’t play too well. Months went by and he said he lost it. Damn Paul.
He gave me a banjo in return. I never learned to play and sold it cheap to a very happy banjo player (Is there any other kind?)
I lost track of Paul after moving out of state, and starting career, family, etc., but in the late 70s or early 80s I saw him numerous times playing in his earlier band, Little Tigers.
I Googled his name recently and was sad to find his obituary from 2016. RIP Paul.
So what are we to make of this? Athens was an early adapter of this ‘scene’ way of developing and attracting talent. Chapel Hill, Austin, Seattle, among others, followed suit with their own scenes. Athens was a pioneer. It was and probably still is, a special place for creative and diverse ideas because of the ingredients: sleepy southern town, hotbed of matriculation and home of numerous practicing thespians. OK, I’m goofing now.
