Sic Semper Tyrannis

The Aquabats vs. The Floating Eye of Death (1999)

Out of ideas. Well, why not revisit the talk about music? That’s what I’m most interested in anyway. And this is my blog, so step off if you don’t agree.

I had a hunch a long time ago that it was a good idea to catalog all of my CDs in Excel for insurance reasons. You see, I’ve got A LOT of CDs. And using the RANDBETWEEN function to truly randomly pick a title for me-well, we’re going to have such fun. (Am I writing for my blog or for Nerd City? It’s hard to distinguish sometimes.)

A Random CD Review from the Stutzman Memorial Library:

The Aquabats vs. The Floating Eye of Death (1999)

So, today I bring you The Aquabats. I discovered these goofy bastards when I was working at the music store. I could pretty much guess their musical aesthetic just by looking at their album covers--six or seven guys dressed up in old-school-looking superhero costumes.

“Ska band,” Collin (a fellow employee) and I said as we shelved their first album. Incidentally, that’s one of the interesting ways to engage your mind when working at a music store, surrounded by thousands upon thousands of albums you’ve never heard of--to imagine in your head what the music contained therein sounds like. You just have to think that for even the most obscure, inane-looking album you come across, there’s a band attached to it with some kind of local following.

Anyway, when we finally opened up and played an Aquabats CD, our expectations were pretty much confirmed. There were definitely a lot of ska elements-upbeat guitar “chicks” and horns. But The Aquabats provide a little more. They deal with pretty cartoonish subject matter, catchy melodies, and the occasional fourth or fifth chord. The vocals strike you as regular guys messing around, kind of like an Everyman’s attempt at opera.

Vs. The Floating Eye of Death is a pretty good introduction to the Aquabats’ oeuvre. Some of the subject matter: a giant robot with bird-like head, a man with gluey hands, a man being forced to marry a monster, apocalyptical destruction, and the history of the domestication of dogs. Clearly these guys aren’t out to save the world with art, which is a sketchy prospect anyway. The thing that separates this album from the first two is a little more RAWK and a little less ska: guitars a little heavier, drums a little simpler. At the same time, there are some nice synth and organ sounds. My faves: “Anti-matter,” “Lovers of Loving Love,” “Canis Lupis,” and “Amino Man,” one of the most affecting rock choruses accompanied by non-serious subject matter I’ve ever heard.

I’m not one to narrow things down to easy and quick ratings, but I would place this album in the “Good” region: not “Great,” but “Good.” This is an entertaining collection of songs, most of which are capable of sticking in your head well after the CD is done.

posted by Mike @ 12:09 PM