THE
GUN CLUB
Mother Juno
SYMPATHY FOR THE RECORD INDUSTRY 2005
Hot
on the boot heels of last year’s reissue of The
Gun Club’s The
Las Vegas Story, Sympathy for the Record Industry
has now remastered and re-released Mother Juno. In Steve
Olende's liner notes, he claims that, after dismissing the album
years ago for its “rock-ness,” on second listen, considers
Mother Juno the band’s “most representative
album.” Before you dismiss this as shallow and slick hard
rock album as Stevo and I did, you might want to give it another
chance – particularly if you are a Gun Club fan.
As for being
the Gun Club’s most representative record, all of the elements
from various incarnations of the band can be found here –
Fire
Of Love driving blues-based punk romps, Miami-esque
jangly western-tinged pop anthems, The
Las Vegas Story’s rootsy eclecticism, Wildweed’s
new waveyness, and some of the hard rock leanings that become more
pronounced with Pastoral
Hide and Seek and particularly Divinity.
Sonically slicker than its predecessors, Mother Juno’s
big hard rock production is further accentuated by the new loud
and clear mastering. On the surface, a middle-of-the-road rock record,
the multilayered collection has a deep end, which becomes more visible
with each listen. In the tradition of The Las Vegas Story,
the hard rock is mostly rootsy in the cowpunk sense of the word,
but also contains blues, soul, jazz, swamp, surf, and new wave elements.
Mother
Juno was the Gun Club’s first release since 1984’s
The Las Vegas Story and, for all intensive purposes –
a reunion record. The band reached a peak of popularity with the
album and the tour that followed. Consistent with the Gun Club’s
pattern of lucklessness, their label, England’s Red Rhino,
collapsed a few months after Mother Juno’s release.
The album resurfaced on Thirsty Ear in 1996 and Buddha in 2000 before
its reissue this month on Sympathy. The CD also includes bonus tracks
“Crabdance”
and “Nobody’s
City,” both of which initially appeared on the
B-side of the “Breaking Hands” twelve-inch.
The story of Mother Juno begins with a 1986 phone conversation between
the band’s two co-founding members, Jeffrey
Lee Pierce and Kid Congo Powers. Pierce was living
in London and performing as a solo act. Powers had moved to Berlin
to become a member of Nick
Cave and the Bad Seeds. Pierce asked Powers if he would
be interested in a Gun Club reunion. The two planned on returning
to the more straightforward path they embarked upon seven years
earlier. Back together for the third time in their careers and adopting
the Gun Club moniker once again, the two rounded up the lineup with
a solid new rhythm section consisting of two musicians from the
band that went on tour in Pierce’s solo band - Pierce’s
girlfriend Romi Mori on bass and Clock
DVA’s Nick Sanderson on drums. In his autobiography,
Jeffrey Lee wrote that this was his favorite incarnation of the
Gun Club.
Like
Iggy Pop’s Lust
for Life and The
Idiot, Bowie’s
Berlin trilogy, the entire 80s Bad Seeds output, and
a good hunk of Neubauten’s
discography, Mother Juno was recorded at “the big
wall by the wall,” Berlin’s legendary Hansa Studios.
The Gun Club selected Hansa because Kid Congo Powers had moved to
Berlin to join Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. Initially considering
New
Order’s Peter
Hook for production duties, the band decided on an
equally odd choice for a loud guitar-driven record - the Cocteau
Twins’ Robin
Guthrie.
By this point
in their careers, self-taught Jeffrey Lee Pierce and Kid Congo Powers
have firmly established their unique musical styles and apply them
masterfully to this batch of songs. Pierce’s whisper/croon/sing/scream/howl
is not only a more subtle and in tune than on past efforts, but
also weaves itself into a wider variety of phrases, textures, and
tones. He still pulls a bit of a Morrison in his lower range, but
as always is unmistakably himself – particularly when he opens
up his throat, let’s the wind from his belly blow through,
and takes his trademark vocals to a higher pitch. Credited with
“Guitars, Slide, Feed Back,” Kid Congo Powers offers
no shortage of the fluid ambient guitar soundscapes and feedback
drenched solos for which he is best known.
The opening
tracks “Bill
Bailey” and “Thunderhead,”
two of the rawest rockers since Fire of Love, are both rootsy punk
numbers. “Bill Bailey” builds tension with a rigid driving
rockabilly beat and, in the Gun Club tradition, blows wide open
on the chorus and bridge. “Thunderhead’s” two
most memorable parts are Kid’s whammy and slide noise in the
breakdown and Pierce’s shift into an Elvisy vibrato in the
last line of the song. “Lupita
Screams,” which still takes some getting used
to on my part is the heaviest and most metallic song on the album,
and perhaps in the entire catalogue - it is almost Dio-esque.
While Powers’ big distorted guitar emits pseudo-metal solos
and riffage, the spirit of Scorpions
vocalist Klaus
Meine sneaks into Hansa and enters Pierces’ body.
While they were trying to rock hard, I assure you that these were
not the bands they were emulating.
The album shifts
down gears for “”Yellow
Eyes” and “The
Breaking Hands.” In the former, Mori and Sanderson
lay a foundation with a slow smoky soul groove as Powers cuts a
chorus-laden new wavy yet Cropperesque
figure in both the rhythm and the solo. This gives fellow Bad Seed
Blixa
Bargeld, the guest guitarist on the track, a chance
to do Powers’ usual job of laying down the ambient wallpaper.
In a first-class post-punk guitar lesson, the troubled sleep is
broken as the guitars get up with the shakes and engage in an artfully
panned battle. “The Breaking Hands,” with its soft and
highly layered Cocteau Twins shimmer, is the one track that clearly
shows the mark of producer Robin Guthrie. A hazy wall of slide guitars
and synthesizers float above and around this mid-timpoed pop song
completely unique to the Gun Club discography.
“Araby’s”
breakneck triplets accelerate the pace to new levels. As the horse
chase rumbles by, a giant poppy chorus tears the composition open
in the fashion of “Bill Bailey”. The western feel is
further accentuated by Powers ghostly reverbed-out whammy surf guitar
on the breaks. “Hearts,”
an intense burst of sentimentality not unlike some of Patti
Smith’s melodic/melodramatic three-chord anthems,
contains Powers’ best and spookiest ambient guitar. After
the punk of “My
Cousin Kim,” Mother Juno winds up with
the brilliant power ballad “Port
of Souls."
Lyrics
and Thematic Material
Claus
Castenskiold, who painted the covers of The
Fall’s The
Wonderful and Frightening World of the Fall, Perverted
By Language, and This
Nations Saving Grace, also did the cover to
Mother Juno. As the dour sleepless face of the man behind the
wheel stares into the distance, the woman in the passenger seat
covers her face and peeks out at him from underneath her hands.
The driver has a bottle in his hand and another on the seat. Dice
hang from the rearview mirror and a dashboard Jesus has his face
covered by a black cloth execution style. The woman in Castenskiold
painting looks on in horror as the man casts their collective fates
to the wind.
Here again
Pierce, this time at the peak of his lyrical abilities, remains
the poet of hopelessness. Yet instead of focusing on acts of debauchery
and violence that mark Pierce’s previous work, Mother
Juno’s melancholy fatalism is more about 1) futile descents
into oblivion and 2) the acceptance of cruelty, betrayal, and abandonment
in both life and love. The numb characters can’t rescue themselves
from downward spirals. Though a significant other accepts the faults
of “Bill Bailey” and begs to go along for the hell-ride,
the protagonists of the remainder of the album are left alone to
die as their lovers walk away to save themselves.
Water is the
most common motif in Mother Juno. And the water is that
which stains, that which can’t be held, and moreover, that
which drowns. Water is appears in every song except for “Cousin
Kim,” which, with contains all fire imagery. The record begins
when Bill Bailey’s lover tries to save him from the water
- ordering him to “get out of the sea” and “crawl
up and go back home.” Thunderhead, who left the protagonist
alone, lost her mind, and lives in the street, “went wild
across the sea.” The narrator tells Lupita, a down and out
junkie, “The river’s got your forehead.” He adds
that “New York houses pain and boredom in between the seas.”
Yellow Eyes’ daddy-boy has “gone under water”
– explaining that “his other side just took over.”
Though “the sun and sea are smiling” in the opiated
dreamscape of “The Breaking Hands,” it is a mirage as
the narrator wishes “Allah would will me a piece of iron in
my head.” In “Araby” “the rain just slaps
our faces / colors me to here / where do we go? / where’s
the train?” Next in “Hearts,” water is amorphous
and impossible to contain. “Hearts, with love like water /
Hearts, with love that goes.” Finally, in “Port of Souls,”
Pierce’s farewell, he is drowned - “too much ocean,
too much sea, it’s no wonder that you buried me.”
Consistent
with the Gun Club’s overall body of work, Mother Juno
references to American song to enforce its themes. “Bill
Bailey,” whose woman, as in Hughie Cannon’s 1902 minstrel
standard, wants her loser boyfriend back, is, according to Pierce’s
autobiography Go Tell the Mountain, about Pierce’s
friend Nick Cave – who also shows up on
.While the
lyrics to the chorus share the same primary line with the 1902 song,
“Bill
Bailey won’t you come home”, Pierce’s
heroine, instead of begging “please come home” and offering
to do the laundry and pay the rent, orders her “pale and useless”
man to “shut up and come back home tonight.” Like the
Modern
Lovers’ “She
Cracked,” “Thunderhead” is an abandoned
man’s account of a wild ex-girlfriend losing her mind. Other
than the unreliable narrator technique applied to a lover’s
insanity, Jonathan Richman’s “she’d eat garbage,
eat shit, get stoned” and Pierce’s “she sleeps
in garbage/ Oh Shit! Should I be alone” are put across with
the exact same phrasing. As is Richman’s heroine understanding
“the European things of 1943” and Pierce’s crawling
“over her head backwards like it was 1963. Finally, “Port
of Souls” is peopled with American folk song characters. The
first line, “Run
Molly Run” is the title of a song about an old
horse who is supposed to take her last breath in a race with a younger
horse, but at the end surprises everyone by winning. Pierce, who
would never go for a happy ending, is of course only teasing the
listener with the promise of beating the odds. Rose Connelly, who
winds up in the bottom of the river, murdered by her lover in the
traditional folk song “The
Willow Garden,” appears in the fourth verse.
The final folk figure to show up is the “steel driving man”
who also appears in Fire of Love’s “For
the Love of Ivy,” John
Henry. As the mountain sinks in on John Henry in the
popular folk song of the same name, Mother Juno’s
protagonist loses the battle with “too much ocean, too much
sea and finds himself buried in the “Port of Souls.”
©
New York Night Train , 2005
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