The World/Inferno Friendship Society - Just the Best Party
(Gern Blandsten)
Think of a band. Think of a band who wants to make music. Think of all of the intriguing, amazing possibilities that come with the combinations presented in instrumentation, all of the greatness that comes from orchestration. Think of the limitlessly superb quality that music can create.
Now think about the worst results of a combination of punk and ska, with a little bit of musical-inspired madness, circus-core and a world music groove thrown in. That's what this release sounds like. It's got the annoyingly smarmy song titles that seem to be a prerequisite of "fun" punk (check these out: "Zen & the Art of Breaking Everything in this Room," "The Naughty Little Rat Makes New Friends," "My Ancestral Homeland, New Jersey"). It's got the beaten-to-death martini glass imagery on the back cover that every ska band has employed since the Specials released their debut, and on the cover are a bunch of shady looking characters in suits and dresses. Bring the rock, ladies and gentlemen.
The music contained within this rather frustrating package is no less frustrating. These guys seem to want to blend all sorts of diverse styles to create a great, giant pastiche of all of their favorite influences, something that would turn out to be really, strikingly good. Well, they didn't succeed. "Friend to the Friendless" sounds like a bizarre outtake to the Parisian edition of Guys and Dolls, with accordion and mandolin accompanying male and female vocals doing different parts. If it weren't done so seriously, it would have a weird appeal to it. As it stands, all I can really say about this is: what the fuck were you guys thinking?
At least the next track, the (un?)ironically titled "Peter Lorre" brings a little energy. It's still got the musical-by-way-of-ska band feel of "Friend to the Friendless," but, like I said, at least it brings some energy into the mix. Rock that accordion!
The absolute weirdness continues with "I Wouldn't Want to Live in a World Without Grudges," which begins with some deep singing overtop of mandolin, and, again, accordion, before busting out in a weird Russian folk jam. Instead of Guys and Dolls, this sounds like a Moulin Rouge outtake. Especially when the electric guitar enters into the mix and four people start singing at once.
Again I'll ask: what the fuck is this? Who could possibly have conceptualized a release like this one? And there's another question: is it a concept album? Is there some point behind the musical-inspired compositions? And why does that accordion player on the cover look so goddamn shady? I've listened to this several times and it all still remains a mystery. Maybe this is the greatest record ever released, and five hundred years from now it will be revered by the human race for it's forward thinking blending of styles. For now, in the 21st century, it seems pointlessly bizarre and uncomfortably strange.
Dear lord, make it stop.
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