SIDE A
1. Uncontrollable Urge – 3:11
2. (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction – 2:41
3. Praying Hands – 2:49
4. Space Junk – 2:15
5. Mongoloid – 3:44
6. Jocko Homo – 3:37
SIDE B
7. Too Much Paranoias – 1:58
8. Gut Feeling/(Slap Your Mammy) – 4:58
9. Come Back Jonee – 3:49
10. Sloppy (I Saw My Baby Gettin’) – 2:40
11. Shrivel-Up – 3:04
From the late 70s until the coming of Lebron James in the early 2000s, Devo were Akron, Ohio’s most famous export. Devo are an esoteric band, often both hard to define and, despite their popularity, easy to forget in a critical context. Like most people, I primarily knew them for their 1980 international mega-hit Whip It growing up, and was generally aware of them as a kooky robotic band in their lego hats. Broad press coverage has been similar as they are considered a novelty band. This isn’t without merit, as so much of their spirit is about surrealist humour and even on this, their most acclaimed and occasionally dark album, there’s always a certain humour and lightness to the whole thing.
Devo’s background and inspiration is interesting and tragic. The classic lineup as features on this album involves two sets of brothers, the Mothersbaughs and Casales, plus drummer Bob Myers. Among other musical and artistic acquaintances who flitted in and out of Devo, the early core of Mark Mothersbaugh and Gerald Casale were the ever-present leaders as the band slowly developed a cult following in local Ohio with their mad and violent, sonically and occasionally otherwise, live shows. The name and initial collaborative concept refers to the idea of ‘Devolution’ that Casale, original member Bob Lewis and friends cultivated as students at Kent State University. The darkly comical concept was that instead of continuing to evolve, humans had reached a point where they devolving backwards. But this sardonic view of humanity was reaffirmed in a horrifying way for the early band members who attended Kent State, when the institution’s famous 1970 shootings occurred. This was the final catalyst for Devo to pursue their dark concepts, finalising the band name and beginning to write songs based on the concept.
The next five years involved the band’s cacophonous, discordant and confrontational shows, sparse dissonant early punk releases and their 1976 short film The Truth About De-Evolution. This avant-garde piece, essentially an extended music video, showed Devo’s multimedia credentials and contained the first great Devo anthem, Jocko Homo. This song was then released in 1977 as a B-side to their first single Mongoloid, both of which would later be re-recorded in less raw sparse form for the first album the following year. First encountering Jocko Homo, on the late night alternative music program Rage which is very Devo, was spellbinding and put me onto the album, where I discovered a hidden gem.
It was an unusually long teething period for Devo. Their lack of apparent commercial potential, and obvious embracing of this alternative spirit, meant that major label support was not forthcoming. But in time, especially through the film, sound business decision that it was, notable backers became involved. David Bowie became a champion of the group on the back of the film, as did his friend Iggy Pop. This helped Devo secure a contract with Warner Bros. and session time to record their debut album, to be produced by industry legend and Bowie collaborator Brian Eno.
With everything ready, Devo at long last entered the iconic Conny Plank studio in Cologne, Germany, where so many of the German bands that inspired Devo had worked. They had the funding and clout, and the opportunity to lay down their madness on record. In general terms they of course succeeded. However interestingly, and kind of disappointingly, Eno’s reflection was that the band were stubborn and difficult to work with. His account was that the group were reluctant to experiment openly in that very Eno way, preferring to stick steadfastly to their original and very direct arrangements. While this may seem very not in the spirit of Devo style artists, it is still very them. They were always stubborn, this extended to petty resistance to external ideas no matter how good, and their steadfast refusal to add more to the sound and layer things in a sophisticated Eno-produced way is textbook minimalist punk.
Ultimately when it all boils down to it, the focus, discipline and succinctness of the Devo method results in a great and eminently enjoyable album. Generally speaking, albums by bands on the more experimental and progressive side, including some already covered and still to come in this countdown, invariably have sequences somewhere that meander. These artists always insist on finding time to do weird, sparse, seemingly deliberately obtuse things. That never occurs with Devo, they have no time for that at all. This album, much like the overall vibe given off by their persona and dynamic, is straight to the point, all business and no waffle. There is an economy of sound throughout the whole punchy, direct album. In that sense, it is pure peak punk. But it is melodic, the guitar is jangly, calling back to the Byrds and forward to the 80s. As mentioned before, the whole sound has a silly quality to it at times, whether from the crazed vocals, subversive lyrics, occasionally Eno synth tones or general happy high tempo nature of the sound. But it’s always got a hard punky edge, occasionally challenging you when you get complacent about how enjoyable it is, and the deeper the lyrics are looked into the more their sarcastic bitter nature reveals itself. This album is like the edgy dark depressed man’s party music.
Despite their punk credentials, despite the cold, robotic, emotionless and deliberately countercultural aesthetic, and despite the layering of silly novelty on top of that, the album doesn’t sound unwelcoming or unappealing like you’d think. Eno’s production is too crisp and quality and the compositions, arrangements and performances too tight, punchy and direct. Everything rocks and moves forward with great momentum. For a band whose early reputation was so defined by their tendency to the dissonant, the only real moment of nasty sonic discomfort comes from the brief but disconcerting Too Much Paranoias midway through the album. Even then, it is almost needed, as a detour to break up what is otherwise a mighty sequence of unfailing brilliance in that sequence of the album, and a structural marker-point that says ‘here’s a silly break to mark the half way point.
As for the 11 songs themselves, for mine they can be broken down into the first four, middle four and final three. The album has a rough three part structure to it. The first quartet of songs are the simplest. They are short, very basic, direct pop punk bites mostly based around one single lively riff. The middle of the album is the peak, featuring its three great masterpieces. Then at the end come the sparser, artsier earlier recorded pieces, with their rich guitar work, darker undertones and more subtle sounds.
Uncontrollable Urge fires in with maximum energy, immediately drawing a line in the sand as to the crisp melodic punk we’re going to be dealing with. It probably the absolute punkiest track on the album, with a very simple powerful riff and high tempo. Eno’s synth contributions are most notable and most discordant here and Mark Mothersbaugh’s rapid fire series of ‘yeahs’ are a typically hilarious but defiant first vocal contribution. The second track of the album is a re-recording of the group’s second single, a remarkably curious cover of the seminal Rolling Stones classic (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction. It is a defining statement of the Devo aesthetic and philosophy. All sense of rock ‘n’ roll energy has been removed. The tempo is lowered, any melody is basically removed, and the famous riff is not pleasant. Instead, their version is based around a robotic drum pattern, dissonant guitar chords and any semblance of energy instead comes from a simple staccato bassline. It only bears any resemblance to the original because it shares the same lyric. The opening section is them completed by a similar pair of short snappy gems. Praying Hands is a naughty little song in subject matter but with a fabulous crispy guitar riff and bass-drum driven lively tempo. Space Junk has a beautifully subtle piano part helping complete its equally simple main figure and spends half is length comically listing place names. But again, the basic riff and overall sound is appealing and the depicted story of a poor woman being killed by falling space debris is quintessential Devo dark comedy.
The peak section of the album begins with the classic Mongoloid. As soon as it starts there is an immediate sense that the mood and rhythm has shifted somewhat. The gorgeous, simple, clean bassline that opens the track immediately suggests a more patient and melodic approach. But as each new element is added, the sonic landscape becomes madder and madder. First are more Eno synth workings. Then in comes the heavily distorted discordant guitar figure and extremely processed, loud, electronic sounding drums. The overall rhythm of the song, as driven by the unique drum work, clearly reflects the influence of German ‘Krautrock’ that was so important for Devo. The song proceeds based around this march-like German motorik and captivatingly combines its strange punk meets new wave raw sonic palette with the structure and vocal melodies of a pop song.
Jocko Homo is Devo’s singular anthem, included the iconic call and response of the album’s title. It is a wholly unique ‘hit’, starting with a famous and brilliant 7/8 staccato riff and a comical sounding verse based on an alternating descending guitar figure and ascending distorted synth figure. It doesn’t really have a chorus, with the verse giving natural way to the titular call and response, then back to the first riff. The clear highlight of the track is its amazing ‘God made man’ bridge section, which is the only moment on the album that has always made me wonder just how sophisticated a bonafide complex prog-style band Devo could have been if they’d tried. Jocko Homo shows that they are not simple talentless punks. They have a mastery of tension, payoff and subtle arrangements.
Speaking of tension and payoff. Next comes the creepy and unresolved Too Much Paranoias, with Mothersbaugh unpleasantly speed-ranting over a fantastically filthy repeating dissonant guitar riff. It is the most challenging the album gets but for what it is, is still fun, partly because it keeps itself to the right brief length. The resolution of the track’s tension is wonderful though, as Gut Feeling immediately begins with the greatest two minutes of the album. The long and gorgeous opening section is an extended instrumental jam, really the only moment of breath and patient exploration Devo allow themselves on the album. You can really sense that they could sense the vibe of the piece, as it builds and jams around a simple, gorgeous crispy guitar arpeggio. The group rocks out over this basic figure, building in intensity and tempo, climaxing with a joyous piano part before breaking down into the song’s belated first verse. For the remainder of that song that free joyous energy is maintained, including its rather random detour into Slap Your Mammy, the song’s brief aggressive coda.
After the mighty run in the middle of the album, it is impossible to avoid the sensation that the last three tracks are rather understated and underrated. Come Back Jonee keeps up the punk party feel, with a superb fun opening riff and frenetic tempo maintained by some rapid hi-hat work and jangly guitar chordage. Sloppy (I Saw My Baby Gettin’) has maybe the most difficult vocal on the album in Mark Mothersbaugh’s monotone shouting. But it is over the most sensational high spidery guitar riff, all of which contrasts nicely with the quiet chorus. The song does one of my favourite tricks, the little reverse switcheroo of having a loud and dramatic intro and verse, then a slow soft chorus. Devo take this to the extreme, virtually stopping dead in the hours and needed to start again from scratch with the great riff. This just leaves the closer Shrivel Up which is vastly different to the rest of the album. It is perhaps the most pure new wave sounding track, with an almost funky feel from its synth base and another subtle skilful spindly guitar riff. It is a very unusual closer for its time, maintaining a clear discipline. The track is the slowest in tempo on the whole album and maintains a kind of tempered solemn tenderness the whole way through, only cutting lose slightly, and satisfyingly, at the very end.
Q: Are We Not Men, A: We Are Devo is an album of great balance the whole way. It is discordant but melodic. It is crazy but pleasant. It is punk but pop. It is countercultural and experimental but disciplined and direct. That satisfying sense of critical and artistic legitimacy paired with good old fashioned simple pop music is the key to its success. This album never feels pretentious, nor ever lacks gravitas somehow. It is serious art and serious fun.
Hoss Album Reviews 