1) Things Fall Apart; 2) Slink; 3) The New Adventure; 4) Magic Hymie; 5) Fast Karma / No Questions; 6) Worlds In Collision; 7) The Red Nights; 8) No More Reruns; 9) No Warning, No Alarm.
General verdict: A «Remain In-Lite» for those who prefer Diet Coke and nicotine-free cigarettes to, you know, the real bad thing.
In order to measure the amazing amounts of
genetic and social diversity on planet Earth, you could dig deep into the world
of genetic samples and anthropological studies. Or you could take a trip around
the globe, not forgetting all the important spots such as the Kalahari Desert
or Papua New Guinea. Or, to save yourself time, money, and brain cells, you
could take a quick look at some Internet reviews and see that there are real people on this planet who
consider Jerry Harrison's solo debut, The
Red And The Black, to be a better
album than Remain In Light. And I
think to myself — what a wonderful world!
Not that The
Red And The Black is a worthless effort or anything. It is simply a
clear-cut attempt on one guy's part to bite off more than he can chew. Where
Chris and Tina deliberately chose a different, almost antithetical route to
Byrne's vision, Harrison made a record that just as deliberately claimed direct
descent from the musical and general artistic stem of both Fear Of Music and Remain In
Light. The funky rhythms, the avantgarde solos, the alarmingly alarmed
mindset, the worried-and-or-ominous vocals, the cryptic lyrics — everything is
here in more or less the same dosage as you would see on traditional Talking
Heads records. The big difference is that the only Talking Head here is the
head that rarely talked: Jerry himself.
He does invite some of the same people that
played an important role in the greatness of Remain In Light: the ubiquitous Adrian Belew on guitar, Nona
Hendryx on backing vocals (she also contributes some of her own lyrics), and,
although that does not quite count, Bernie Worrell on keyboards (who had
already joined the Heads' touring roster after Remain In Light was released, and would stay on with them for the
next several years). But there is no Tina, no Chris, no David, and, last but
definitely not least of all, no Brian Eno to work the same magic for his songs
that he did for the Heads. Instead, the album is co-produced by Jerry with Dave
Jerden, Remain In Light's sound
engineer — technically close, but no cigar.
The difference is felt as early as on the first
track. It has a nicely suitable title (ʽThings Fall Apartʼ) and a suitably
paranoid mood, but the whole thing is just not too exciting. A slightly slower
tempo than required. A fairly simple, metronomically-oriented rhythm section. A
lilting funky guitar rhythm that is, without explanation, pushed so far back in
the mix it hardly even begins to matter. Vocals that try to sound ominous but
are neither deep enough to be spooky nor jerky enough to be unsettling.
Moderately catchy, but not amazing hooklines. In other words — a good imitation
of the real thing, but the spirit just isn't there, really.
In a way, the lyrics to the second track,
ʽSlinkʼ, are self-explanatory. "Don't you rush it, don't you push it,
don't you shove it, don't you lose control — you must keep it cool, keep it
smooth" is the chorus recipe, and while it is obvious that our man Jerry
here is simply giving you some good advice on how to survive in the insane
modern age, it is hard to get rid of the feeling that the same applies to his
own music as well — The Red And The
Black being a non-rushing, non-pushing, non-shoving, never-losing-control
reply to Remain In Light, what with
ʽSlinkʼ itself built upon a steady, semi-tight ska rhythm with a perfectly
normal, not-too-agitated guitar riff running through it and a perfectly normal
melodica part cheering up your spirit. Besides, do you really want Jerry Harrison to give you reasonable psychological
advice — and, in the process, confirm himself as the boringly sane counterpart to David Byrne's psycho
persona? Next thing we know, you will be siding with Luke Skywalker against
Darth Vader or something.
But enough with the criticisms. While all the songs on the album suffer from
the same problems, most of them also have their virtues — Harrison is not the
last person in the world when it comes to moods and hooks. ʽMagic Hymieʼ, for
instance, is a lot of fun, a sort of cartoonish funky take on the vibe of ʽI
Shot The Sheriffʼ (I have no idea who is meant by ʽHymieʼ, but the song paints
a credible picture of how it feels to be pushed to the brink). ʽWorlds In
Collisionʼ, starting off with a threatening sonic vibe not unlike the one in
ʽMemories Can't Waitʼ, is Jerry's grim-faced post-punkish revolutionary update
of the message of ʽTimes They Are A-Changin'ʼ, with Adrian supplying most of
the real revolution while Jerry is mainly busy shouting out ominous slogans
("all you mothers, show your children you're not afraid to die!").
There is even some odd charm in the neo-Chuck-Berry-like proto-rap of ʽNo More
Rerunsʼ, though there is little to distinguish it properly from a hundred other
similar New Wave tracks.
By the end of my third listen I was actually liking the album or, at least, the
effort that went into making it. If anything, it does show that Jerry Harrison
was not just a replaceable cog in the Heads machine, but a serious contributor
to the global whole, with a very modern vision that was very different from
Byrne's, but not at all incompatible. But it also shows that Harrison was essentially
a normal guy, interested in exploring new avenues but not at all willing to run
down them like crazy, with no shoes and no shirt on. Indeed, some people like
such characters better — these are the ones willing to say that The Red And The Black is superior to Remain In Light — yet these are the
people to whom I would rather entrust driving cars than making critical evaluations.
Bottomline: The Red And The Black is
a worthy effort that sheds some much-needed light on the persona of a most
important «man in the shadows», but it does not really stand out on its own —
only in the overall context of Talking Heads' history.
"Hymie" is pejorative slang for a Jewish person. It was around this time that Jesse Jackson was caught on tape referring to Jewish people as "hymies" and New York City as "Hymietown." The whole scandal was satirized on "SNL" with Eddie Murphy appearing as Jackson to sing an R&B-styled number called "Don't Let Me Down, Hymietown."
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