Question: where, exactly, does the Murder City moniker come from? Correct me if I'm wrong, but to my knowledge, there hasn't been a violent outbreak in Seattle since that overzealous Granola-muncher threw a brick through a Starbucks Coffee window in 1997. And why am I asking you? Like you know, or give a shit.
Well. The Murder City Devils are a gore-obsessed group of aspiring homicidal maniacs-turned-Computer-Age-sensitive hard-rockers-- not to mention the official spokespunks of the American Nightmare. They're also an image-conscious band of splatterpunk method actors hammering out riff-heavy generic punk-metal designed with the intent to inflict serious bodily harm. 'Course, if these songs caused even slight allergic reactions in lab mice, the world might be better off. Instead, the Devils force you to reconsider the worth of forgotten early 90s grungepuppies like Helmet and Alice in Chains. True, though, these phony prophets of urban apocalypse and doom do have their cute side. So, with that said, we'll proceed with a thorough autopsy of the bloodied, mangled stiff of the album that is In Name and Blood.
Singer Spencer Moody fuses the angry growls of Billy Idol, James Hetfield, Layne Staley, and the Cult's Ian Astbury into a single vocal amalgam that defies all logical possibilities of style appropriation and synthesis. The songs-- none of which are especially distinct-- all sport the same arrangements, chord progressions, and static tempos bumped along by clumsy drumkit-bashing. And, in a miraculous feat of economy, the Murder City Devils manage to squeeze out twelve 'different' songs from the same song. Even more amazing is how two guitar dudes riffing on the same heavy-duty power chords manage to sound like only one guitar dude riffing on heavy-duty power chords.
What are the songs about? Just what you'd expect: kindergartners overdosing on refined sugar, a baseball player's suicide by baseball bat, beheaded babies, fatal paper cuts, amateur sheep-shearing contests, and unwanted puppies being doused with gasoline and set ablaze. They document the Devil's handiwork on Earth during the last 2000 years: all the carnage, famine, war, bestiality, and abject human suffering you can possibly imagine.
That would be great wouldn't it? Sorry, kids. The lyrics are as harmless as a disgruntled school cafeteria lady wielding a gravy ladle. Just check out the gut-tearing sentiments of "Lemuria Rising": "I wish you could have been a fly on the wall/ When I was twelve years old/ I would slit my wrists if it weren't for rock n' roll," roars Moody. For further enjoyment, here are some more memorable Moody word-power moments: "She was the prettiest girl in an ugly town"; "Every time I put my oars in your water/ I do it for the sailors"; "You built a ship/ Put it in a bottle/ Then we watched it roll away." Uh, like, when do all the bloody entrails and gouged eyeballs come into play, guys?
I was shocked to learn that "Somebody Else's Baby" is not about a prison inmate whose wife just had another man's baby (see Merle Haggard). In reality, it's just another innocuous song about some dork getting dumped. As compensation, though, there's more mention of The Dark One on this record than in all of Ozzy Osbourne and Robert Johnson's output combined. And that's a lot of Dark One.
These poor doomed souls simply get bogged down in too much muddy sludge-rock-- not to be confused, of course, with that elusive phenomenon known as punk rock. Hence, In Name and Blood whips little-to-no ass. In fact, most of these songs don't rock much harder than "Rebel Yell," and many even seem to pay homage to it. Leslie Hardy's spooky Farfisa-toned organ does give the songs a certain camp-sinister "Munsters"-theme quality, I suppose. But the only time the Devils live up to their namesake and commit actual murder is with their irony-laced disemboweling of Neil Diamond's "I'll Come Running." The nugget goes to show that the band actually does have a sense of humor, and a damned clever one, at that. It's a totally fresh concept: crappy neo-metal band does awful cover of unlistenable easy listening song. Hilarious! Get in line behind Screeching Weasel, boys.
Conceptually, I'd say the Murder City Devils are pretty memorable. But the music? Well, I just finished listening to In Name and Blood about 10 minutes ago, and I've already forgotten what it sounds like. And that's pretty sad considering that I haven't even finished this review yet.
