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Camper Van Beethoven — 601

ALBUM: Our Beloved Revolutionary Sweetheart (1988)

MVC Rating: 4.0/$$$$

This is an important album by an important band. Camper Van Beethoven have  something to say.

These California, early indie, alternative songmakers make you work to figure out what they were trying to say. But in the work therein lies the answer, or at least the point. And that point? Something about skewering and deconstructing suburbia, and making fun of popular culture and Patty Hearst. All legit rock angles, for sure.

Whether it was about the Eye of Fatima or figuring it all out, it was well played and it sounded about right.

One of these days
When you figure, figure it all out
Well be sure to let me know

David Lowery’s voice drips rock ‘n roll irony, as guitars get circled by a violin. This is a band whose first real ‘hit,’ if you can call it that, was: “Take the Skinheads Bowling.’

Every day, I get up and pray to Jah  And he increases the number of clocks by exactly one
Everybody’s comin’ home for lunch these days
Last night there were skinheads on my lawn
Take the skinheads bowling …

If you like this Camper Van Beethoven album, you might  also explore Key Lime Pie, a follow-up album which has that wonderful take on human optimism, ‘When I Win the Lottery.”

Also,  I highly recommend a spin-off band, Cracker, which I also have digitally only. Kind off like a more rocking Camper stripped of artsy flourishes (and violin).

Cracker was known for the song that had  the line: Cause what the world needs now is another folk singer like I need a hole in my head.

Good stuff. Cracker and Camper. David Lowery is the common key creative  force here. He looks at things a little differently.

For example thanking Patty Hearst, the Revolutionary Sweetheart, for making life more interesting.

Oh, my beloved revolutionary sweetheart
I can see your newsprint face turn yellow in the gutter
It makes me sad
How I long for the days when you came to liberate us from boredom
From driving around from the hours between five and seven in the evening

My Beloved Tania

Counting down my 678 vinyl records before I die of brain disease.

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‘I Put a Bean in my Nose’

True story, this week, Birmingham metropolitan area.

Two brothers. Two years old, each. Correct, they are twins.

First boy comes running up to pre-school teacher.

“I’ve got a rock in my nose,” the young one says.

No, really? The teacher is skeptical but concerned.

Is there a bean in this nose? By Jeremie63 (Own work) [GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html) or CC BY-SA 3.0
She looked up his nose and saw it.

Then she ran her fingers over the outside of his nose. Pebble pops out.

“See,” said the giddy kiddie. “I put it there.”

(Lecture follows about never putting rocks in orifices.)

At this time, brother runs up, equally giddy.

“I have a bean up my nose,” he posits.

No! Teacher approaching exasperation mode.

She looked but could not see a bean.

Are you sure? Teacher asks.

“I put a bean in my nose,” says the chortling darling.

Teacher is concerned but not positive because of boy’s history of tall tales, but brother had a pebble in his nose. Hmmmm.

Teacher rushes child to office where flashlight was employed. Light flooded the nasal canal but still no visual on said bean.

Are you sure you have a bean up your nose? The fledgling otolaryngologists queried.

Shoulders shrugged, hands palms up, smiling, the boy said, “I put a bean up my nose.”

“Here blow your nose,” one said, handing him a tissue.

He took the tissue and did a giant nostril sniffy, not a nosey blowsy.

No. No. No. came the chorus of fledgling ENTs. “BLOW”

Sure as shooting, a bean came flying out.

Sources say there is no truth to the rumors that the bean — an uncooked Pinto  — went through a plate glass window like a bullet.

Moral of the story: Who nose where you bean?