Advertisement
For most mainstream rock fans, Chicago's malevolent post-punk maulers the Jesus Lizard are a new band with no more history than the pallid parade of one-hit wonders who flash briefly across MTV screens.
But if Jesus Lizard's new single "A Tale of Two Women," off their new album, Blue, somehow slips into the airwaves, unsuspecting Joe Public will be in for a shock: Singer David Yow is the wildest, most dangerous, subversive creature in rock (as manic, whacked and unpredictable as the Stooges-era Iggy Pop), and he's no Johnny-come-post-Nirvana.
In fact, Yow has been at it for longer than some of his fans have been alive. Not only have the Jesus Lizard unleashed a predatory plague of seven LPs, a live album and three EPs since 1989, before that Yow and Jesus Lizard bassist David Sims frightened the timid with Texas' ungodly, vicious Scratch Acid (two LPs and one EP spanning '83-'87). Before *that*, Yow can even claim early-punk scene membership with Toxic Shock.
Cornered on the phone, Yow says the last reference is better forgotten. "Oh God," he laughs good naturedly. "Toxic Shock was an awful lot of fun, but that was just an American version of English punk. A lot of that was sort of anger, trying to figure out what I was ... Now it's just a job." He laughs again. "I don't mean that ... I love doing it, actually."
Off stage Yow is smart, modest and amiable, not the wonderfully terrifying lunatic who stalks the stage, shrieking like an animal or displaying his dick on a spoon. "The biggest misconception is that I'm completely nuts," he agrees. "I just am on stage." Perhaps his punk youth explains his Jekyll and Hyde transformations.
"Maybe you're right," he says. "Before I ever saw a punk band, I was listening to Led Zeppelin, and I was into fusion. And then one Halloween, a friend and I went to see [early punks] the Huns in Austin, and I was beside myself, doing backflips in my head. 'Holy shit, this is what energy is all about...!' Ever since then, it's seemed like the thing to do. It kind of ruined my life!"
Whatever the impetus for the fury, fire and disregard for public safety of Jesus Lizard's shows, that aura also permeates their menacing albums. "The danger is what appeals to me," Yow admits. And Blue is another impending riot. Steve Albini's old in-your-face production has given way to a more measured -- but still harsh -- sound from Andy Gill, a post-punk god from the hallowed Gang of Four. The jagged edge Gill helped pioneer circa 1978 rips through tracks such as "Happy Snakes," so perhaps his recruitment was no coincidence?
"I loved the Gang of Four's first three LPs," confirms Yow. "It was a blast to record with him; I'm proud to call Andy a friend."
In contrast to Albini's back-to-basics approach, using Gill meant innovations like sampling. (Yow said he was nervous about this, but Gill only used samples for textural background.) Still, Jesus Lizard's sound remains caustic and unusual, if more expansive, so it's hard to imagine Blue breaking into the mainstream. Yow has no illusions. "We don't fit in, but I'd get the biggest kick out of eating in a restaurant and hearing 'A Tale of Two Women' on the radio."
"I think our stuff is a lot better than what 'Alternative Rock' stations play," he continues, "but I know that doesn't matter, that's no criteria. But if it happened, would my parents be proud!"
His parents? So they weren't humiliated when Yow got arrested for indecent exposure in Cincinnati during 1995's Lollapalooza? "My dad thought the whole thing was hilarious. My mom was really upset. She was afraid that it was some perverted thing, that I was trying to get my rocks off, and I had to explain to my hysterically crying mother that it was just my juvenistic (sic) sense of humor, and don't worry, I didn't even get a boner."
And what about Courtney Love doing likewise that night in Ohio, after Yow was hauled off to the hoosegow? "I had to spend seven hours in the police station. When I got back to the venue, I was on the phone with my manager when Courtney came in. And she says, 'I showed my cooch too, and they didn't do anything!' I said, 'That's nice, but I'm on the phone here."
She wasn't being supportive? "No, I don't think she was. I think she was just mad that someone else might become the focus of attention for a day or two!"
Yow!
Asked whether self-righteous indie-world cries of "sell-out" have dissipated three years after the band left supportive indie label Touch and Go for Capitol, Yow replies, "Yeah, it's slowed down. A lot of people also picked on us for not working with Albini any more, instead of worrying about what music we made. When I was a kid, all the bands were on major labels, like the Ramones, Clash and Sex Pistols. The indie labels were for jazz and blues bands."
Besides, after twelve years on indies, Yow was ready for bigger financing and better distribution. "We didn't leave Touch and Go because we were dissatisfied. We like those people a lot. In my book, it's still the best label. But I couldn't have bought a house if we'd stayed on Touch and Go."
The man paid nearly two decades of dues for that house. And anyone who doesn't like it can lick his spoon.
JACK RABID