The Wildhearts
Earth Vs. The Wildhearts (East/West)
by Scott Hefflon
If you were to take the standard rock format that was nearly beaten to death in the late ’80s, and juice it up with ’90s sarcasm, energy, and topical freedom, then broke it down into 12 non-stop songs littered with hooks, humor, sneering, bubblegum, and junk culture overload, you might have something like this “Beach Boys meets Biohazard” collectible. Or a massive headache. The explicit lyrics label on the cover is well-earned. (Stupid cover, by the way. the entire inside sleeve is a mad “Where’s Waldo in Hell” acid trip illustration that defies description and The Wildhearts go with this thing?)
With titles such as “Greetings from Shitsville,” “My Baby is a Headfuck,” and “Loveshit,” ya know you’re getting the real Mofo McCoy. True-to-life playful snarls like “Do I have to take this shite from you overtime I look your way or say ‘Hey, it’s about time you showed me yours and I showed you mine'” followed by a twisted “Day tripper, prick teaser,” with summertime oh-ah-ohs, raging blues fillers, and Jerry Lee Lewis piano bashing and closing with chants of “headfuck, headfuck, headfuck, headfuck.” (The song blends right into the distorted raving of “Suckerpunch” that would satisfy even the most ravenous banger or pit freak.)
The classic rock intro to song six is quickly warped into a whiskey-guzzlin’ love stomp called “Loveshit,” and “Caffeine Bomb” is two and a half minutes of near constant lyrics, much like a heavier “End of the World as We Know It.” But the pick hit, despite the chorus of “miles and miles and miles and miles away” that I swore would make me projectile vomit if I ever was subjected to yet another song that used the shlock concept, is “The Mile Away Girl.” After a standard monster rock opening, the song breaks down into a single, tasty guitar chugging along to “She’s always busy caring cuz that’s all she’s ever done/ She’s a thousand Florence Nightengales all rolled up into one.” People have remarked cute and sweet when I played them this line, but I don’t know, I just like, OK? The song launches into some of the fullest rock ‘n’ roll sound I’ve ever heard without all the bullshit bravado.
In general, The Wildhearts’ wordplay is excellent, harmonies fill every possible nook and cranny, and the song structures are so infectious you don’t even notice you’ve heard them all a thousand times before. Just under an hour of re-vamped, smirking rock ‘n’ roll without a dull moment in sight.
