Never liked the circus. I wasn't a curmudgeonly kid, but the notion of the Big Top always filled me with dull dread. Some entertainments are simply meant to die, replaced by snazzier, safer and/or more sophisticated forms of leisure. And that's good-- that's progress. The mystery play, bangsawan and blackface burlesque are all happily retired diversions, subject to occasional, ironic revisitation or ill-informed nostalgia. But the circus somehow perseveres with its cruelty to animals, displays of aimless skill, terrible sex politics and-- last but not least-- abominable music.
Which is where Tod Ashley-- frontman of Firewater-- and I part ways. He loves the circus. This much can be confirmed by a quick glance at the Firewater's record covers, but any track off The Man on the Burning Tightrope-- even more so than the band's three previous records-- reveals a wealth of swirly organs, squawking accordions, crunchy snares and carny-barker vocals. Before I start talking about the songs, let's make a pact. If you happen to like this sort of sensibility, if you need something to tie you over between Tiger Lilies records, and finally, if you thought the Zoot Suit Riots of '97 were the best thing since Tom Waits...then by all means disregard my sour tone, take everything that follows as praise, and multiply the record's rating by the factor of 1.5. Oh, and know that I hate Cirque du Soleil, too.
The opening instrumental "Fanfare" sets the tone with a horn section breathing fire over exaggerated, dramatic rolls (the album was produced by the band's Israeli-born drummer, and, perhaps unsurprisingly, mixed to showcase the rhythm section). "Anything at All" follows, with Ashley croaking come-ons like "If I were a memory I'd creep into your head." It bears mentioning that Firewater's lyrics are a bit on the eye-rolling side, with a preponderance of weak verb rhymes ("Everybody lies/ Loves/ Lives/ Cries/ Tries/ Dies," this sort of thing). By the third track-- the boringly-titled "Too Much (Is Never Enough)"-- Ashley's vocal affectations suddenly bring to mind Smash Mouth. Considering that we're talking about the former frontman of Cop Shoot Cop, that is a sad, sad sentence to write.
"Too Many Angels" is the first to fully make good on the circus theme, and culminates in a fantastic, squeaky solo that may blow your left speaker. From here on, the band settles firmly into the antic-roadshow act that doesn't let up for the rest of the record. The title song even devolves into a Sgt. Pepper skit: "Ladies and gentlemen, please put your hands together for the one-- the only-- the Man on the Burning Tightrope!"
In its second half, Ashley's concept-heavy contraption begins to run out of steam. "Secret" stoops to set answering-machine messages to music and "Ponzi's Revenge" is an instrumental allusion to Firewater's second album, The Ponzi Scheme. The album winds up with not one but two-- two!-- reprises of earlier tracks: "Dark Days Revisited", a faux-Slavic stomp with a gypsy choir, and a superfluous return of "Fanfare". Putting aside my dislike of the P.T. Barnum milieu, I will concede that there is a way to approach its arcane aesthetic with wit and subtlety (witness Grant Lee Philips, or the films of Mark and Michael Polish). You, in turn, must concede that this is not it.
