Concrete Blonde
Mexican Moon (Capitol)
by Marc Hirsh
Concrete Blonde
Mexican Moon (Capitol)
by Marc Hirsh
originally published in the Rice Thresher, October 12, 1993
Mexican Moon, the fifth album by Concrete Blonde, is one of those albums, the type where you can listen to it once and still be unsure whether you're going to love it or hate it. But stick with it and you may just find an odd reversal of the normal state of affairs. Moon seems uninteresting at first but its virtues come to light upon repeated listenings.
To be sure, Moon is a very dense album, filled to the brim with sounds. Textured layers of guitar (lots of guitar), keyboards and even vocals fill in every conceivable sonic gap, a usually-dubious achievement, but Concrete Blonde makes it work. Making it past the first layer is part of the experience and brings to light some exceptionally beautiful, if dark, music.
Songwriter/singer/bassist Johnette Napolitano's powerful voice is often the main attraction here, but she and guitarist Jim Mankey prove themselves to be extremely versatile musicians. Napolitano takes guitar and keyboard chores on several tunes, while Mankey plays bass occasionally and is even spotlighted with a co-lead vocal in "Close To Home," one of the highlights of the album. Original drummer Harry Rushakoff returns to play on four of the album's 13 songs, leaving the rest of the drums to ex-Roxy Music drummer Paul Thompson, whom the group picked up in time for their breakthrough Bloodletting album. Rushakoff will be joining Napolitano and Mankey on tour.
Like those of early R.E.M., the album's lyrics are almost incomprehensible initially, but, like that group, it is the conviction of the vocals that make them work. Unlike that group, however, the lyrics are eventually decipherable and generally quite poetic. In "Close To Home," the band takes a unique stance on a seemingly obligatory road song. Napolitano's lyrics simply list various locales before giving up and proclaiming, "I've been here, I've been there, I've been nowhere everywhere."
In other songs, it's easy to misunderstand the lyrics the first time. The "Liar Liar Liar" refrain in "Jesus Forgive Me (For The Things I'm About To Say)" isn't being directed at Jesus, as it's easy to assume, but at Napolitano's declaration of, "I'm sorry for the things I've said" immediately beforehand. Similarly, Napolitano has had to point out that the title character of "Jenny I Read," a casualty of Hollywood whose public appearances provoke responses of, "It's her. It IS her! What happened to her?," is nobody in particular and especially not an autobiographical portrait.
In keeping with the complexity of the lyrics, the vocals on the album are often stunning. Napolitano's power comes through in songs such as "End Of The Line" and "Jesus Forgive Me," which starts out a cappella and then kicks into a ferocious metallic gospel number, complete with choir. Mankey's vocals on "Close To Home" are unaffecting and simple and serve to underscore the fatigue that the song is supposed to convey.
The eerie atmosphere of the album is enhanced by many nonmusical moments. Napolitano's lyrics to "Jonestown" are heavily processed and sound like they were delivered through a telephone. It's a small but brilliant touch: what would have come across as a distanced horror story about the religious settlement becomes a terrified message from one of the people trapped there. Production changes gives the otherwise poppy "End of the Line" a dark undercurrent of foreboding.
None of this is to say that the album is not without its faults. A cover of the Dream Syndicate's "When You Smile" is one of the album's weakest tracks, and Texacala Jones, although an interesting singer, cannot bring "One Of My Kind" out of its rut. An unnecessary Spanish-language version of the title song closes the album on a redundant note. The chorus is even left in English, and the album finishes with something that we've already heard before, a song that would have made an interesting B-side to a single.
Napolitano has announced that Mexican Moon will be the last Concrete Blonde album, with a book of Napolitano's lyrics and other writings to be her first project after the tour. Which means that now, thanks to the inclusion of a song that seems like an afterthought, the album doesn't close with "(Love Is A) Blind Ambition," a powerful cut that ends with ex-Wall Of Voodoo-er Andy Prieboy on a simple but phenomenal piano solo. It would have been a beautiful and fitting end to the band's career. the way it stands now, it's just another great song on a very good album by a band that we'll probably never see the likes of again.