"Seething with poison and apathy, the seven band members (six perform on stage) of the Murder City Devils have supposedly turned rock'n'roll on its own deaf ear and kicked it while it was down. Every netherworld and stygian reference in the book (even the Good one) has been bestowed upon these new darlings of the media by adoring critics, who find Spencer's snarling indifference and silver-tongued, heart-on-his-sleeve lyrics nothing less than beguiling and the gut-wrenching, dirty-secret, darkest-corner-of-your-mind musical accompaniment nothing less than cathartic. Spooks and creeps, these medicine men ( woman) of hurt make snake oil of your worst pain, bottle it and clandestinely sell it back, never hesitating to share a shotglass or five of the stuff with you, huddled in the lonely alleys of your riddled brain.
You'll be on your knees, repenting like a tent-revival sinner."
"And the second the Devils ascend to the stage and rip into a soul-spearing rocker, onlookers who'd joke about honor-roll-this or math-geek-that bite their tongues. As the other band members--Dann Gallucci (guitar/keyboards), Nate Manny (guitar), Derek Fudesco (bass/keyboards) and Coady Willis (drums)--careen around with kinetic energy, Spencer Moody's unassuming appearance becomes twisted into a spastic mass of flesh, cloth and microphone cords.
Suddenly, when he sings that his "heroes have always been flunkies and drunk," it all makes sense. Rock 'n' roll is reborn again, the phoenix rising to torch non-believers with a fiery touch.
When ex-members ofthe Unabombers, Death Wish Kids and Area 51 came together in 1996, they weren't thinking about igniting a stagnant scene.
They just wanted to get electric, to plug in and rock out. That's what they did, and Seattle took notice.
Soon they were opening for national acts and gaining notoriety for their furious, ranting performances.
If the crowd didn't want
to respond, Moody's anti-apathy maledictions made sure they did. Eventually Sub Pop chose Murder City Devils as the inaugural act on its new offshoot; the band was even allowed to name the label (Die Young Stay Pretty, after a line from Gallucci's favorite Blondie song).
When the self-titled release arrived in '97, it may not have broken new ground historically, but it didn't merely dig up the bodies of old punks and trot around in their skins for a while, either.
The influences are obvious--Iggy and the Stooges, Johnny Thunders, Dead Boys--but don't forget, those acts had their own lineage to live up to. Iggy was inspired in part by Jim Morrison, while Thunders' New York Dolls worshiped the Stones.
Moody insists the band is not trying to cop someone else's attitude.
"Sometimes, in consciously or unconsciously trying to imitate other people, you come up with something that's yours," he says. He understands that this may lead to some criticism, but adds that the Devils are not capable of simply "imitating any of those people, so it's gonna come out as something new."
It's all cynical bickering anyway.
The album is a solid chunk of vintage punk that strays far enough from formula to guarantee an attentive audience. When organs shimmy into earshot, the music almost seems closer to the Animals than anything Stiv Bators might've written. (Listening to the disc's slow, almost ballad-esque closer, "Tell You Brother," one notes similarities to "House of the Rising Sun," not "Sonic Reducer.
")
Still, if there's one undeniably punk aspect of the Devils' music, it's their attraction to--and reflection of--the damaged messiahs of music and literature. In addition to Iggy and Stiv, Moody lists Burroughs, Bukowski, Jean Genet and Steven Jesse Bernstein as favorites.
"What's important to me is that the types of people I've always looked up to are the ones who did things outside of the normal way," he explains.
"The famous people I've admired in the past, or been influenced by, it seems like they're more the degenerate portion of our society. I believe in the idea that you don't need outside sources to validate what you do. Like rock 'n' roll--in the beginning it wasn't 'valid' because society as a whole didn't think it was a legitimate art form.
They did it because it felt natural for them to do. Everything good starts out that way." -
Vocals: Spencer Moody
Guitar: Dann Galluci
Bass: Derek Fudesco
Drums: Coady Willis
Guitar: Nate Manny
Keyboard: Leslie Hardy
Roadie: Gabe
Tracks:
1.
Dance Hall Music
2. It's in My Heart
3. Boom Swagger Room
4.
Get off the Floor
5. Flashbulb
6. Broken Glass
7.
Murder City Riot
8. Sick of Dreaming
9. Make It on My Own
10.
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