Words by Jason Lee. Photo by Paul Gillard.
We don’t get to say this enough but now we get to say it at least, it’s a goddamn shame the “talking blues” hasn’t been a thing lately, or at least not since Dylan put out “Subterranean Homesick Blues” way back in 1965 (!) which took the talking blues all the way to #39 on the Billboard charts (Zimmy’s first hit!) which naturally all but killed the genre dead and if you’re like wow that’s really tragic but what in tarnation is the talking blues anyway?! well it’s pretty much just what it sounds like but it’s so much more too and come to think of it maybe mumble rap’s the new talking blues…
…first born way back in 1926 (!) when comedian Chris Bouchillon visited the Columbia Records field office in Atlanta insisting he cut a record on the spot and when the staff producer was like “eh, you cannot sing” (to which Chris replied, “that’s nothing, you should hear me play the piano!”) but nonetheless they ended up recordinga zippy story-song monologue called “Talking Blues” which became a surprise hit on the Southern circuit disseminated on shellac records (we’re talkin’ pre-vinyl!) with lyrics about outrunning Ol’ Scratch thru a judicious application of lard, or in other words just your average day in 1926…
If you want to get to heaven / let me tell you how to do it
Grease your feet in a little mutton suet / slide right out of the Devil’s hand
And ooze right over in the Promised Land / go easy
Make it easy / go greasy
…and what’s even crazier than the manic street preacher jacked up on morphine and moonshine lyrics is how Bouchillon unwittingly set the template for a whole new musical style that’s something like Beat poetry deep fried in motor oil with rat-a-tat-tat lyrics sung-spoken in a rapid-fire recitative over a looped fragment of music most noteworthy for its frenzied forward motion, bouncing back and forth between poetic stanzas and brief interjections on wheezing harmonica or fiddle or geetar like a dynamic, semi-improvised call-and-response with no proper “verses” or “choruses” to speak of lest it lose that open-ended ramblin’ quality which defines the genre basically no matter how carefully crafted the words may be in reality…
R: Paul Gillard
…with lyrics full of wordplay and punchlines and other poetic devices and nary a 12-bar-blues progression to be heard cuz that’d bring tension and release into it and talking blues is more about tension in suspension and the liminal space between anguish (this is the blues after all) and humor ranging from ribald (think risqué double-entendres or single-entendres even) to morbid with plenty of satirical stabs directed at “The Man” who’s too oblivious to even get the joke half the time…
…so no wonder the folkies and the hippies were captivated by talking blues in the postswar era up ’til about the early ‘70s (hypothesis: metal and punk and hip hop killed the talking blues as updated outlets for many of the same feelings) with roots in oral folk culture and irreverent stick it to the man humor which led mid-century folkies like Pete Seeger and Woody Guthrie to build on the format with talkin’ labor unions and the Dust Bowl ditties whereas subjects like the Vietnam War and nuclear armageddon took on prominence in the ‘60s and early ‘70s…
…and apologies for our masculinist bias cuz there’s female blues belters for instance like Lucille Bogan who should probably be considered part of the talking blues tradition too with songs like “Shave ‘Em Dry” (1935) that even with its 12-bar blues progression is notable for its sung-spoken vocals and rapid-fire string of filthy-minded punchlines that’d make even Moms Mably blush and if you even wondered where the Stones stole “you’d make a dead man cum” from it’s Bogan…
…buy hey ya shouldn’t have to go back 90 years to find a smart, satirical, not-to-be-fucked-with lady who specializes in “talking blues” or ok let’s say “talkin’ punk as f*ck blues” and luckly we got our very own homegrown version right here in Brooklyn who calls out patriarchal entitlement, economic apartheid, imperialism, codependent relationships, oppressive bio-politics, mass media as distraction factory, dehumanizing technology and even just plain ol’ garden variety misogyny where she sees it backed by music that’ll make you wanna hop up and down on an invisible pogo stick or maybe even a real one…
…and that’d be one Mossy Ross and yes we’re talkin’ the singer-songwriter-bassist of Nuclear Family Fantasy who last month just put out a primal scream of album called When I Get Paid that checks off all the talkin’ punk as f*ck blues boxes, a collection of eight ramblin’-or-more-like-rampaging songs that make “protest music” fun again with no shortage of tragicomic zing plus one particularly well-chosen cover that being what’s gotta be the most life-affirming song about self immolation ever written, namely, the Toadies’ “I Burn” (long live Deep Ellum!) which Mossy and NFF amp up into even more of a neo-grunge ripper if that’s possible…
R: Shirt by POWERevolution
…with the album-opening “Because I Can” serving as a sort of thesis statement on patriarchal entitlement as told in the first-person declaring “If you wonder how I cheat and I scam / and I don’t give a damn / It’s cus I can / don’t matter the supply / I create the demand / because I can” over a rollicking backbeat and a punky-surfy riff supplemented by vocal oohs and ahhs which after a rip-roaring guitar solo flips the script with the non-entitled seizing the mic and saying “we’re saying your time is up / aw no, you’ve had enough / why / because we can”…
…leading into the blooze-rock rave-up “When I Get Paid” which takes the enumeration of “Subterranean Homesick Blues” to its logical conclusion and turns it into a shopping list-cum-consumerist fantasy with the narrator listing off all the cool sh*t they’re gonna buy once they finally “get paid” which ranges from a warm coat to a Van Gogh to being able to pay for health care so I guess they got hired either at Rite Aid or Lehman Brothers but either way much like the Dylan bop of yore these talkin’ blues come across somehow as equal parts euphoric and apocalyptic the latter seeing as Mossy hasn’t gotten that big payout just yet it seems…
…leading into “Guns & Boobs” a song whose title (we’re warning you now!) is a real bait-and-switch cuz it starts off talkin’ those communist blues and then about how guns and boobs gerts fetishized in our society as a means of distracting the easly distracted from all the disturbing things routinely done in our name like Operation Condor and false confessions elicited through torture but that’s okay you just stay focused on the hook and block out the rest you’re good to go…
…and look we’re not gonna give away the whole store so we’ll stop here except to say that When I Get Paid ends with the most fist-pumping anthem you’ve ever heard about being included in a digital encyclopedia and not Encarta either which just goes to show whatever the satirical intent may be on Nuclear Family Fantasy’s part we all gotta find our little bit of bliss wherever we’re able these days…
Artists statement: Nuclear Family Fantasy explores the impact of growing up with the illusion that the nuclear family is still the ideal. Their songs convey the struggles with addiction and mental health that sometimes result from being expected to continue believing in the attainability of the American Dream.
I’m so excited to release NFF’s fourth album, “When I Get Paid!” Big, huge thanks to @benbullington for kicking ass on guitar, @iamdrewhall for slaying the drums, and @johnepperly for being the kindest, most talentedest engineer. Mastered by Mike Kalajian @kalajianofdoom@rogueplanetmastering. Not only is Mike the best at mastering, Rogue Planet also uses 100% clean and renewable energy, and they plant a tree for every song mastered.
Album artwork by the gorgeous and talented @loveluzena@loveluzenafoto.
Layout and design by the also gorgeous and talented @gabyamusic
Hair and makeup by the ALSO gorgeous and talented @cheyennnemakeup
Logo by @subtexture