Tin Huey “Contents Dislodged During Shipment”

No one ever called this band “quirky” right? While listening to this 1979 record for the first time in years (my [bought-everything-called-new wave-at the time] copy was lost in the big purge and I just recently found a clean one), an image came to me of the six band members in the Hollywood recording studio, each of them sporting a conservative gold wedding band, while their six wives—who all made the trek out from Akron—shop on Melrose for the hottest 1979 swimwear before hitting the hotel pool where they lovingly trade anecdotes about their eccentric spouses. I’m likely dead wrong about the “wholesomeness”—certainly one of these guys was dirty, depraved, and spelled Trouble. They’re from Ohio, after all. But the music comes across as accomplished and intelligent, first of all—it’s hard for excellent musicians not to show off a little, I guess—and they play this up on the back cover photo, drinking tea. (Though, what are those little, visiting creatures?) But is the excessive jauntiness the result of wholesome energy and too much rehearsal, or mini-mountains of studio coke? Or are they all band (as in marching band) geeks who read music and talk theory and have no problem with weird time signatures and know their way around all the clefs… treble, bass, etc.?

It’s easy to make fun of something that might have been called “Art Rock,” at the time, and was goofy, while also taking itself seriously—but this record sounds better than ever to me, now. Excellent songs, good lyrics, intricate, complex structures, and hot musicianship—the most striking thing being the horns, played by Ralph Carney, who sadly passed away in 2017. He’d, of course, gone on to have a solo career and play with tons of people, including Tom Waits. You hear this record, and you can just imagine, you can see why, anyone hearing it saying: who’s playing the horns? How can I get ahold of him? Hire him… find me that guy! The only song I don’t like is “I’m a Believer,” the only cover on the record. Not a terrible song for a number one hit—I love the Monkees’ version. But this one, no—it doesn’t really sound like the rest of the record, anyway, and you get the sense that it’s on here to grease one of the Warner Brothers—either Stan or Reg—the one that made you kiss his feet and call him “Sire.” I’m sure I’m totally wrong, but it sounds like they were “encouraged” to record it—and purposely made a mockery of it. The rest of the record I like a lot (last song on each side are my favorites), and now that I have a copy again, I’ve got to remind myself to put it on once in a while—it brings back 1979 like it was yesterday—nothing else really sounds like this.

2.1.25