Man Man "Six Demon Bag" 2006

Sophomore album from Philly-based Waits / Zappa / Beefheart obsessives asks us this time out not to merely delight in its sounds, but in its songs as well.What a backward sophomore record. You'd think after all the Zappa/Waits/Beefheart darts thrown his way after the band's 2004 debut, lead singer Honus Honus would cut the gravel shtick-- the stache, too. Instead, he seems to have bought all three's entire discographies over again, zeroing in on Waits' freak empathy, Zappa's klezmatics and turnarounds, the Captain's sense of surprise. We know exactly what he's building in there. In the process, though, Honus lost his former bandmates, and possibly a lot more. This big-top ringleader whose barely prophetic ramblings and nauseous yelps we delighted in last time around as mere entertainment now asks us to move closer, listen not to the sounds, but to the songs-- the pleas for help.
I didn't expect people to dig The Man in a Blue Turban With a Face, same reason I wouldn't drag them to Deerhoof or put a plastic snake in their drink as a joke. Unfocused and sloppy and more of-the-moment than of-the-whole, that record was possibly the polar opposite of what some people value musically. This time out, Man Man's less sloppy but just as ramshackle, as if the snaps and crackles are the band's diversion from actually writing the record. As a song and title, the breakneck "Young Einstein on the Beach" might be more self-referential than the band intended.
They're still tending to the same changes, the same high-pitched call-and-response tropes, and the waltz time, and those parts can blur together a bit. But plenty of good moments pop out by relation: that "mous-tache mous-tache mous-tache" breakdown on "Push the Eagle's Stomach" with video game power-up sounds as the retrigger, the song's "So What" ending, the guitarless Sabbath riffs, the weird keyboard sound halfway between "96 Tears", and the noise made when two rubber Little Caesars dolls are scrubbed together. Or take the accordion melody on "Banana Ghost", or the dozens of great lyrical turns, such as on the appropriately sparse "Skin Tension" ("Let down my guard/ And there goes my heart/ Straight out the window again"), or on "Black Mission Goggles", something of a misfit toy remake of "Come Together" (Beatles, not Annie): "She's a warm bodega/ High on Noreaga," Honus shouts, thus giving Jens Lekman a run for his rap ref rep.
Just so you know, the line after "Noreaga" is this: "Strung out in Brooklyn cos I love her." Happens a lot here: The fun stops, the façade is dropped for a split second, and suddenly Man Man's circus act isn't nearly as interesting as the tension of them maintaining it. That push/pull is why Six Demon Bag sticks so much more than the last. Granted, the band relies on the same structure for most of these moments-- percussion drops out, locker-room singing, then the sober line-- but damnit can they do sober: "You should always run with a loaded gun in your mouth," or, "When the night breaks, and the clouds shake, and your hopes ache, to someday be redeemed," or, "I know I'll never be the man that she thinks she really needs/ But it don't stop me from trying to be."
Despite/because, Man Man's most focused song here is also their most debilitating. On "Van Helsing Boombox", Honus hums and whistles along to the bell hook, delaying himself from articulating the actualities of a breakup: learning "how to speak a forgotten language", wanting "to sleep for weeks like a dog at her feet," falling in the street and howling at the moon. Think of the man you most admire-- your father, maybe-- then remember the first time you saw him cry. The song hits like that: broken and embarrassed and yards of dirt more convincing than your Glibbards and Blight Eyes.
Why "Van Helsing" works so well as an album track, though, is it really heightens the sudden change of heart on closer "Ice Dogs": Starts stubborn ("Am I supposed to close my eyes as you walk away from me?") but how quickly that old love again comes back-- chirpy horns, girl group shoo-wops, smiles for smiles. It's pathetic. It's fantastic drama, too-- rare for any work, let alone a fucking rock album, to pull off so well in 40 minutes. "C'est la vie/ Don't abandon me/ When the bridge burns down and the bad blood tastes like wine." Punch-drunk and happy for now, but it's still blood. - by Nick Sylvester / Pitchforktrax:

01 Feathers 02 Engwish Bwudd 03 Banana Ghost 04 Young Einstein On The Beach 05 Skin Tension 06 Black Mission Goggles 07 Hot Bat 08 Push The Eagle's Stomach 09 Spider Cider 10 Van Helsing Boombox 11 Tunneling Through the Guy 12 Fishstick Gumbo 13 Ice Dogs