Andrew Savage and Jason Kelly have recorded several singles and, with the arrival of Funky Was the State of Affairs, two albums as Fergus & Geronimo. They've drawn inspiration from the Mothers of Invention, 1950s doo-wop, Motown soul, 60s British Invasion pop, and garage rock. Their musical vision is expansive, but their perspective is narrow and specific: Savage and Kelly live to take the piss out of indie rock. What Frank Zappa was to San Francisco, these snarky Texans are to Williamsburg; they're outsiders pointing and laughing at the self-serious shenanigans perpetrated on the other side of the window. With Funky, Fergus & Geronimo have created a concept record of Big Ideas-- something about alien invaders and cultural paranoia-- that plays like a gag on indie pretentiousness. Whatever else can be said about Fergus & Geronimo, Funky is a worthy record for this moment in time, even when its weaknesses get in the way.
Speaking of weaknesses, Funky isn't as enjoyable as Fergus & Geronimo's full-length 2011 debut, Unlearn, even if it is more musically focused and muscular. Unlearn had better jokes, which were aimed with deadly accuracy at the trust-fund babies and trend-chasing yuppies currently populating the hippest realms of rock music. Beyond the quips, Unlearn made its most persuasive argument against the current state of indie with its very form: Misshapen, tossed-off, and unprofessional sounding, Unlearn seemed like a statement against the slick-ification of underground music. Savage and Kelly were clearly conversant with various musical styles, slipping in and out of genre guises with ease, but it was the ease (rather than the skill) that was emphasized. It recalled a time when self-identifying indie rockers made records on a lark, not to make a career.
It's tempting to compare Fergus & Geronimo to Ween, especially since we now desperately need a new group that can be funny while also being musically credible. Like Ween, Fergus & Geronimo have rooted their latest record in a specific time and place in music history. Funky is Savage and Kelly's "late 70s art-punk" record, and the reference points are as obvious as they are keenly observed. The chugging "No Parties" is a perfect melding of the first B-52's record with the first Devo record. "Roman Tick" barks nonchalantly in a rapid-fire 90 seconds like Pink Flag-era Wire. "Spies" sends the mid-60s Kinks through a Paul Weller filter. Toward the end of Funky, the album finally lives up to its title by pumping up the African polyrhythms of "Marky Move" in a nod to Talking Heads.
If Unlearn seemed like two smartasses laughing into a tape recorder for 30 minutes, Funky suggests that Savage and Kelly are in the midst of turning Fergus & Geronimo into an actual band. And, again, the Ween comparison looms; perhaps on the next record, Fergus & Geronimo will finally display some serious Eddie Hazel-level instrumental chops.
But here's how Fergus & Geronimo are not like Ween: Savage and Kelly don't go far enough. Where Ween were sick and dark and genuinely off-putting, fearlessly bounding down avenues of bad taste and full-on sociopathic rage, Fergus & Geronimo are only slightly less polite than the groups they're mocking. Funky Was the State of Affairs is a nice record with some quality laughs and catchy songs, but it doesn't cut as deep as it could. Fergus & Geronimo's goofiness belies its musical vision; it should leave a mark, rather than be easily brushed off.
