Harvey Danger
Where Have All The Merrymakers Gone? (Slash)
by Kerry Joyce
Have you ever hoped that maybe there was more to the smorgasbord of life than the 18 precooked items at the breakfast buffet? Did you ever think it might be possible to hit Mach 3 somehow without the use of a Gillette razor? Have you ever considered that a couple of musicians in a deservedly unsigned band hitting the same couple of notes at the same time in just the right way might experience something a certain hot shot A&R guy will never understand? Yeah, well, neither has Harvey Danger.
Musically, they fall into the now threadbare alternarock tradition, much better musicians than the average, though not registering at all on the Richter scale of originality. What sets Harvey Danger apart is their lyrics, and don’t think they don’t know it. Even if you’re not an adept at picking out the words, you won’t miss a one on this CD, which makes sure you hear every syllable, even if it’s at the expense of some sometimes enjoyable musicianship.
The lyrics are funny, hip, irreverent (Wait! Am I talking about the latest hit sitcom or a CD here?), and really the only kind of lines that could be delivered with any credulity, given lead vocalist and lyricist Sean Nelson’s somewhat limited range. The formula works on their hit, “Flagpole Sitta,” a “Camp Granada” for the ’90s, but on little else. Nelson is a talented little wordsmith though, and we can only hope that with the cash London Records laid on him, he’ll stay away from graduate school, journalism gigs at Seattle’s indie weeklies, and that maybe, MAYBE, he’ll rediscover his balls somehow, and tell us what’s really on his mind.
More likely, he knows exactly where his very huge balls are, in which case what I see in the future for these fellows ten years from now is some very comfortable upholstered furniture, in a very tall skyscraper, no closer to a studio or a live show than their secretaries fax machine. Until then, if you think the purpose of life is to be less of a loser than the next guy, if the idea of Melrose Place: The Alternative Rock Musical excites you, check out the defensively entitled Where Have All The Merrymakers Gone? by Harvey Danger. Then go to hell. You’ll like it there. It’s hot.
