The Fugs: Final CD Part 1
Well, Ed Sanders, Tuli Kupferberg, and their band of merry left-wing loonies have delivered an album that is timely, fresh, and very, very Fugs.
The Fugs is one of those bands that defies categorization: their styles range from bluegrass to psychedelic to punk. Their political commentary, which was always the heart and soul of their work, is sharp and courageous. It was the song "Go Down Congress," sung to the tune of "Go down Moses" which deals with the connections between the Bushes and the Saudis, that actually persuaded me to drop 20 bucks on this CD.
The Fugs have never been terribly concerned with speaking truth to power -- they know power doesn't care -- but they speak truth to people, and this is more important, because the effort to overcome the lies of power in this day and age is the greater battle. The political core of this album comprises songs that dance across genres. "Government Surveillance Yodel" and "I've Been Working for the Landlord" are pure country, "Go Down, Congress" is a spiritual done in an electric folk style very similar to the Horseflies or Billy Bragg (indeed, it may be said that the Fugs pioneered this style), while "Perpitude" is something one could expect from the Dead Kennedys.
Indeed, as far as calls to protest go, "Perpitude" is a much needed wake-up call to a dazed and complacent nation. Its refrain, "everybody's somebody's criminal" is the much needed answer to the question raised about the Patriot Act "well if you're not a terrorist, you got nothing to worry about, right?" It provides us stark reminders of how the people we venerate as heroes, from Socrates to John Lennon, Joan of Arc to Thomas Paine, were all regarded as criminals by someone; and how the same could happen to any of us.
But lest you go away from this review thinking this album is nothing but a huge polemic bummer, allow me to correct that view right away. The grand tradition of Fugs raunch is carried forward on this album on the cut "Septuagenarian in Love," a treatise on old love that is at once self-deprecatory and funny as hell. It is a richly deserved parody of the godawful "Teenager in Love." Less raunchy humor can be found in "Advice from the Fugs" and "Is."
Quiet contemplation has joined protest and parody in the Fugs emotional spectrum as they have aged. "Try to be Joyful," "Luke was a Physician and a Saint," and "Burn, Bridges, Burn" are contemplations of life and death that suggest a great maturation since the days of the band that gave us "Group Grope."
The CD comes with a booklet containing lyrics, commentary, and cover art by Art Spiegelman, creator of MAUS and In the Shadow of No Towers. In an age where Bob Dylan is appearing in Victoria's Secret advertisements and Ringo Starr hawks mutual funds, the Fugs remain a tonic for the progressive soul consumed with cynicism.
The Fugs is one of those bands that defies categorization: their styles range from bluegrass to psychedelic to punk. Their political commentary, which was always the heart and soul of their work, is sharp and courageous. It was the song "Go Down Congress," sung to the tune of "Go down Moses" which deals with the connections between the Bushes and the Saudis, that actually persuaded me to drop 20 bucks on this CD.
The Fugs have never been terribly concerned with speaking truth to power -- they know power doesn't care -- but they speak truth to people, and this is more important, because the effort to overcome the lies of power in this day and age is the greater battle. The political core of this album comprises songs that dance across genres. "Government Surveillance Yodel" and "I've Been Working for the Landlord" are pure country, "Go Down, Congress" is a spiritual done in an electric folk style very similar to the Horseflies or Billy Bragg (indeed, it may be said that the Fugs pioneered this style), while "Perpitude" is something one could expect from the Dead Kennedys.
Indeed, as far as calls to protest go, "Perpitude" is a much needed wake-up call to a dazed and complacent nation. Its refrain, "everybody's somebody's criminal" is the much needed answer to the question raised about the Patriot Act "well if you're not a terrorist, you got nothing to worry about, right?" It provides us stark reminders of how the people we venerate as heroes, from Socrates to John Lennon, Joan of Arc to Thomas Paine, were all regarded as criminals by someone; and how the same could happen to any of us.
But lest you go away from this review thinking this album is nothing but a huge polemic bummer, allow me to correct that view right away. The grand tradition of Fugs raunch is carried forward on this album on the cut "Septuagenarian in Love," a treatise on old love that is at once self-deprecatory and funny as hell. It is a richly deserved parody of the godawful "Teenager in Love." Less raunchy humor can be found in "Advice from the Fugs" and "Is."
Quiet contemplation has joined protest and parody in the Fugs emotional spectrum as they have aged. "Try to be Joyful," "Luke was a Physician and a Saint," and "Burn, Bridges, Burn" are contemplations of life and death that suggest a great maturation since the days of the band that gave us "Group Grope."
The CD comes with a booklet containing lyrics, commentary, and cover art by Art Spiegelman, creator of MAUS and In the Shadow of No Towers. In an age where Bob Dylan is appearing in Victoria's Secret advertisements and Ringo Starr hawks mutual funds, the Fugs remain a tonic for the progressive soul consumed with cynicism.