Wayne Kramer – Citizen Wayne – Review

Wayne Kramer

Citizen Wayne (Epitaph)
by Jon Sarre

I like Wayne Kramer. Most people like Wayne Kramer. He’s a hard guy to dislike, especially for a legend. He was one of the MC5’s guitar slingers. He played with Johnny Thunders and G.G. Allin. He’s never given a bad interview in his life. He’s probably the type of guy who’d push yer car outta a ditch. It’s just something about this new record though – flawed isn’t really the word for it – fatally fucked is a better description. Citizen Wayne looks good on paper and everything: Kramer’s sonic recollections on the MC5 days (“Back When Dogs Could Talk,” “Revolution in Apt. 29”), the ’68 Chicago riots (“Down on the Ground”), prison (“Count Time”) and the ill-starred Gang War partnership with Johnny Thunders (“Snatch Defeat”) are all great subjects. It’s kind of a musical autobiography. All looks promising, until you press play, that is.

What does this record in is David Was’ woefully overdone production. Citizen Wayne is so shellacked with layers of studio technology (overdubs, samples, electronic doodles, experimental percussion), that the guitar and the human being who plays it seem trapped like an ant fossilized in amber. Was reduces Kramer to the level of a session player. That’s pretty weird when ya consider who’s name is on the cover. When left off the electronic leash, Kramer gets to sweat a bit, and knock off some hambone blues-rock like “Down on the Ground.” He gets a few punches in on “Snatched Defeat,” but the corny Neil Youngish chorus pretty much kills the moment. Then there’s the final track, a pretty – delicate even – instrumental called “Farewell to Whiskey,” is a welcome shift to a guy with a guitar. That’s it. It’s weird to write that about Wayne Kramer.