If "Good Songs Make Ya Rich" The Orwells Prosper on 'Terrible Human Beings'

Even though they’ve only been around for two and a half records, it’s hard to deny that The Orwells have already earned some polarity. They’re not as controversial or divisive as, say, Obamacare or Passion of the Christ— but considering the plague of apathy that has replaced most record collections, they’re not doing half bad. Or maybe they are doing exactly half bad: Some people love ‘em, and some people hate ‘em.

It makes perfect sense that their most recent and decent contribution is titled Terrible Human Beings.

I’m no statistician, but I’m learned enough to know that the rowdy Chicago— sorry, Elmhurst— two-car-garage rock quintet is not always viewed in a positive light by their hometown music enthusiasts. Many local patriots lament the band’s popularity, claiming that their Letterman-induced “like-spike” went straight to their heavy heads. Other natives pounce on the opportunity to share rumors and unflattering stories starring the band members.

One thing is for sure, though— there are some fucking good songs here.

Recorded in a month at Steve Albini’s Electrical Audio (good heavens, talk about divisive), Terrible Human Beings doesn’t exactly pick up where 2014’s summery Disgraceland left off. Gone are the Strokesy “Who Needs You”s and the bright, youthful drum production. This record is just sonically deeper, tighter, and darker. However, partiers need not worry— The Orwells have hardly stopped having fun, and the new record expands on some of the better ideas expressed on their earlier stuff.

Relax. The band is quite literally all growed up, that’s all. 

"They Put a Body in the Bayou” opens, in all of its mod-revival glory. Band spokesperson and guitarist Matt O’Keefe can’t quite remember where it came from, but it fluently establishes the album’s theme of slightly fucked-up pop songs.

“Alright, make it quick—good songs make ya rich...”

Another stark contrast between Terrible Human Beings and the earlier ‘Wells output is singer Mario Cuomo’s surge in lyrical maturity. I mean, it’s not that we weren’t satisfied with his “gimme a smile, then take off your pants” shtick, but he’s far more effective here, celebrating new topics such as insanity and vengeful decapitation in the same slacker drawl.

Cuomo notes that his younger bandmates are partially responsible for pushing him out of his lyrical (southern) comfort zone. From the political hints in “M.A.D.” and “Vacation,” to the romantic mutiny of “Ring Pop,” and a tribute to one of America’s most underrated songwriters in “Black Francis,” the gangly frontman’s snarly sentiments cleverly stumble on the line between stupid and smart.

The Orwells' Fourth 'Terrible Human Beings' Single Is a Tribute to Pixies Frontman Black Francis

Photo by Yam G-Jun

Charles Thompson IV, 51, also known as Frank Black— formerly known as Black Francis— has finally been granted a song in his namesake, joining his fellow cult heroes Alex Chilton and Grant Hart. After ascending to indie-rock royalty as the potato-shaped Pixies frontman, he infamously faxed his bandmates their walking papers and quickly released two mammoth solo albums, 1993’s Frank Black and 1994’s incomparable Teenager of the Year. (As is tradition, these masterpieces have received only a fraction of the worship they deserve, but that’s another story.)

There are few better candidates for a Black Francis tribute song than Elmhurst garage-rockers The Orwells. The two-and-a-half minute dedication, like many of the band’s songs, has a very Pixie-esque flavor. However, it’s very clearly an Orwells song, right down to the celebration of youthful debauchery (“We should hit it / I think they called the cops”) and the catchy, melodic guitar lines.

“Felt long overdue that we paid him some direct respect,” guitarist Matt O’Keefe explains. “We’ve been ripping him off for years, hopefully this chips away at the massive debt we’ve got to him.”

Fans of The Orwells are hungry as hell - It’s been two years since the solid Disgraceland came out, and one can only spin “Let it Burn” and “Who Needs You” so many times. Thankfully "Black Francis" and the other three singles from their forthcoming LP Terrible Human Beings (due out February 17 via Canvasback/Atlantic), promise more lighthearted ass-kicking is on the way.

It’s about time.

Pre-order The Orwells' new album "Terrible Human Beings" to get "Black Francis" and 3 other songs instantly: http://smarturl.it/terriblehumanbeings Stream: http://smarturl.it/THBStream Merch Bundles: http://smarturl.it/theorwells.store Terrible Human Beings Available February 17th ► Subscribe to the channel: http://goo.gl/H6pxGr ► Follow on Tumblr: https://www.theorwells.com ► Like on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/theorwellsband ► Follow on Twitter: https://twitter.com/TheOrwells

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Why Urge Overkill's 'Saturation' May Be the Most Misunderstood Album of Its Generation

Urge Overkill’s Saturation may be the most-widely misunderstood album of its generation. The interweb backhanded it (“stadium rock by clever post-punkers” or “a perfect swaggering blend of arena rock and power pop”) with local Chicago critics similarly dissing it (Steve Albini called them “frat rock” in his retort to Bill Wyman including it in a top 10 list for 1993, while Jim DeRogatis compared the record to Weekend Warriors by Ted Nugent). Universally, the record has been dismissed as… Redd Kross. And I suppose if these armchair-rockers only listened to the first 30 seconds of the first song on every album they reviewed, they’d be right about this one.

Before we get into the musical genius of Saturation, I feel obligated to outline the Urge Overkill aesthetic that, after 30 years “together,” has been obscured by a lingering 90’s fog. It’s all clear now, though, and it’s easier to pinpoint the minuscule yet significant velvety nugget that Urge dropped on rock history. Consider this: Urge Overkill had the most punk-rock approach of any band in the post-Nevermind era.

Don’t believe it? I’m not surprised. The root of punk rock is non-conformity. Not political leanings, teenage angst or the chaotic or even systematic dismantling of various establishments. It’s all about refusing to do what everyone else is doing. The Ramones, Sex Pistols, Clash, Buzzcocks… they bled this music not to be popular or even minimalist, but rather to give their middle finger to Journey and Led Zeppelin. The route was minimalism, yes - and the result was popularity. But the motive was always non-conformity.

"Everything don’t need to be the same…"

Fast-forward 15 years, where the genre derived from punk is now “alternative rock,” and the biggest bands sport self-conscious stubble, baggy shirts and torn jeans. They sing about disillusionment toward whatever is handy— the music industry, the opposite sex, stardom, their own mortality. Pretty shallow shit, generally, although some of it is just great music.

“Saturation Catch-Phrases:

“Attitude.”
“Don’t melt away!”
“Dumb song, take nine.”
“I wish the Z-ball was the sun…”
“I’m playin’... did you even hit record?”
“Is he on the clock or off the clock?”
“‘S TOO LATE.”
“Send in the butcher!”
“We’ve never recorded in the big leagues before…”
“Who played Judas?”
“You shoulda seen yo’ face!””

To put this in a light that even my musically-misguided peers will understand— you have your Cobains, your Vedders, Cornells & Corgans…and then there’s Nash F. Kato, Urge’s crooning, shade-wearin’, martini-swillin’ Iceman-slingin’ co-captain. If Nirvana and Pearl Jam were "modern rock," then Urge was "postmodern." From a purely aesthetic standpoint, they gave their (ringed) middle fingers to the guys that were giving their middle fingers to bigshots like Poison and Ticketmaster. Instead of writing them off as “Vegas revivalists,” critics might’ve considered them the hipster’s hipster, and farther into a punk rock personality than any Billie Joe Armstrong would ever be willing to venture.

"Come around to my way of thinkin'…"

Critics clued in on Urge’s tongue-in-cheek irony, of course. I’m not suggesting the band should have been taken seriously. At the same time, the DeRogatis’ and Wymans of Chicago failed to realize and perpetuate what was crucial about the band’s sense of fun. Even more damning, the greater critical community declined to validate Saturation as earnest alternative rock music.

So where does that leave Satch'?

There are a few Stonesy guitar lines, sure. There is that Doobie Brothers breakdown in “Erica Kane,” alright. And yes - it is fair to consider “Sister Havana” an anthem. A shouldabeenabonafide radio hit. But the songs owe just as much to Cheap Trick as “Smells Like Teen Spirit” owes the Pixies, or “Outshined” does Sabbath. “It’s a retro thing,” notes DeRogatis. What?! Listen to “Dropout,” or take a minute to find the bonus track, “Operation Kissinger.”

This record is 13 times as inventive as Ten or Siamese Dream. The atmosphere of Satch' owes a lot to the then-novel practice of pairing a directionless alt rock trio with a hip-hop production team. Phil and Joe Nicolo, professionally known as The Butcher Bros, make this album what it is. All of the sampling on the second side and the left-in mistakes throughout help Saturation transcend “rock album” status, emerging into “Warhol-esque pop spectacle” territory, as awol drummer Blackie Onassis once described it. It’s an art record, really-- and it’s a damn shame that few picked up on that...

What happened to Urge is bittersweet - though mostly bitter. It’s sad to think about a glum, dehydrated Nash Kato growing less sexy each year, as 1993 fades further into history and the Urge brand lives on through half-assed reunions and GenX nostalgia. But the attitude and music so impeccably and extravagantly displayed on Saturation are just as relevant now as they were when they were new. And if not, well, fuck. Still beats Weekend Warriors... 

Music video by Urge Overkill performing Sister Havana. (C) 1993 UMG Recordings, Inc.

Saturation: Song by Song

• "Sister Havana": The best song of 1993, and one of the greatest of the entire decade. From hook-laden chorus to Pumpkins-esque sitar break… just a killer.
• "Tequila Sundae": The brutal Hiwatt tone and flatulent bass synth give this one a very cool California feeling, but it’s actually one of the album’s weakest. It would make a pretty interesting Beck cover, however.
• "Positive Bleeding": The Urge ethos. That slamming E chord in the second verse defines the song. Anyone who considers this similar to 70’s rock is either a fuckhead or knows some really good 70’s rock that we don’t.
• "Back On Me": Many people’s favorite Satch' song. Sounds to me like a tame Nirvana impression.
• "Woman 2 Woman": “Girl, what’s your sign? ‘Vagittarius,’ / But that’s not mine, so tell me you don’t want me no more.” A stage rush of hilarity, through the chaotic choruses and spoken-word sections. Brilliant
• "Bottle of Fur": The album’s sexiest track, and also the most glam-rock. Complete with tubular bells and horn sections. Hubba hubba.
• "Crackbabies": Just an absolutely wicked garage rock song. Note Kato and King Roeser’s studio mishap at the end - genuine or stilted, doesn’t much matter.
• "The Stalker": One of the many inside references, addressed to a group of haters who terrorized Urge in their hometown, immortalized in this moshy, Bleach-esque sludger.
• "Dropout": Yeah, this song is totally something off Highway to Hell. That is, if Highway to Hell had 90’s rap beats, a Bollywood soundscape, and beautiful lyrics and melodies from Onassis.
• "Erica Kane": A manic punk slice of Husker Du-level aggressiveness and melody, followed by a great release in the loose bridge, which leads into a Mouldy reprise and then a snippet of… you guessed it, Hawaii Five-O!
• "Nite and Grey": King’s finest contribution to the otherwise Nashier album, this song rocks in a catchy but very 90’s fashion. Track eventually fades into some memorable banter over the Mary Tyler Moore theme. Love is all around...
• "Heaven 90210": A swoon-worthy, Strat-laden California poolside ballad. This song could be from 1971 or 2040 and no one would know the difference.
• [Bonus Track] "Operation Kissinger": Good things come to those who wait (more than 20 minutes after “90210"). This extra adds yet another flavor to this rich cocktail of a record… the influence of The Butcher Bros. is evident and the piece matches the album cover perfectly. 

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EDIT: We initially misattributed Steve Albini's "frat rock" comment (which was addressed to Bill Wyman) to Bill Wyman. Thanks for pointing that out, Bill.