The Murder City Devils – In Name and Blood – Review

The Murder City Devils

In Name and Blood (Sub Pop)
by Jon Sarre

This band’s either some kinda rock’n’rollin’aberration in these post-hiphop times, a throwback to ’60s punk by ’90s punx jacked up on ’70s punk (and ’80s too, just so we don’t leave a decade out) or just another medio-core hipster scam with borrowed farfisa plinks’n’fuzztones that accessorize nicely with tattoos (both their’s and their audience’s). Sometimes The Murder City Devils, I figure, are both at the same time. I mean, I wanna like ’em and all, but when it comes down to it, ‘s’always “compared to everything else (that sucks)” and, fuck, that’s no way to look at anything, not even trivial piddlin’ shit like this. Neither the band nor SubPop needs my fuckin’ opinion (read their thick as a dic(tionary) press kit sometime – there’re pencil pushers slippin’ in their own hyperbole left and right, and some of ’em might even be sincere).

So mebbe now yer sayin’ to yerself, “So what? If a buncha ill-compensated ‘zine geeks dig ’em, what about me? I can barely read, should I care what they write? Nah, I just wanna hear some fuckin’ rock’n’roll!” Okay, yeah, so the Murder City Devils sound like the Mummies with “production values” people who appeared on stage wrapped head to toe in toilet paper never aspired to (“hi fi,” even), but with a singer who croons like Danzig (but bears more of a resemblance to that Messy Marvin kid in those old TV ads). Unfortunately, they’re not nearly as funny as the Mummies, yet not as snobby either (that’s to say MCD doesn’t consider themselves too cool for the possibility of a mass audience, new fangled digital technology, or, y’know, “marketing”). In fact, this new CD isn’t just a CD, but an “enhanced” CD, which means ya can stick it in yer computer and, I dunno, buy t-shirts or play Pong or somethin’ with it, too. This makes it even more useful than just a regular CD which, aside from its aural role, is pretty much only good for secondary uses as a beverage coaster, bread plate or ineffectual compact mirror. Thank God for technology!
(PO Box 20645 Seattle, WA 98102)