The Go-Go's
God Bless The Go-Go's (Beyond Music/Go-Go's)
by Marc Hirsh
The Go-Go's
God Bless The Go-Go's (Beyond Music/Go-Go's)
by Marc Hirsh
originally published in Space City Rock, Fall 2002
Having reunited at least three times since their last real album (1984's Talk Show), recording a handful of new songs along the way, the Go-Go's should have by now ironed any kinks out of their system (as well as told them once and for all whether a reunion was really what any of them wanted). And, 14 years after Talk Show revealed itself as one of my all-time favorites, I can safely say that on God Bless The Go-Go's, the band sounds great. So why'd they have to remake Vacation?
Yes, the title track was an immediate band highlight, but the Go-Go's' second album was an obvious time-holder, with a handful of good tunes outweighed by listenable filler. God Bless hearkens back to those heady days. Only "Insincere" rises immediately and easily to the band's legacy. A mid-tempo pop song with a simple but effective guitar hook stolen from some unidentifiable somewhere (maybe just my subconscious), it's about a man who lies, sung by the woman who lets him get away with it but doesn't know why. When Belinda Carlisle, at the end, repeats "Have a nice life," it's both liberating and sad (not to mention hypocritical and ambiguous). The fact that the Go-Go's can toss out a song this all-time worthy for the second reunion in a row is enough to justify the whole endeavor.
"Insincere" isn't the only keeper, though; it just happens to be the best song on the album and the only one that announces itself as an instant classic. "Talking Myself Down" is hooked beautifully by Charlotte Caffey's piano and continues, by dint of its "Caffey/Wiedlin/Hoffs" writing credit, down the slippery slope to Go-Go's/Bangles interchangeability (officially begun when Vicki Peterson sat in for the pregnant Caffey for a bunch of shows in 1994). "Apology," meanwhile, crams the words "I'm sorry" into Belinda Carlisle's mouth without her choking on them (perhaps because the followup line, "I have no regrets," completely reframes the statement), a theme continued by the sweet, album-ending "Daisy Chain." With its candid recap of the band's troubled first incarnation and its tacit gratitude for their second (or is it fifth?) chance, it plays like a four-minute distillation of their infamous VH1 Behind The Music special.
The rest gets the Go-Go's by but doesn't get them far. A bunch of songs on God Bless celebrate, well, Go-Go-ness; this is an album bookended by "Daisy Chain" and the opening "La La Land" ("Hello world, we're here again"), with similar stops along the way. A few others echo previous entries in the band's catalogue; while immediately pegging anything with an automotive metaphor ("Stuck In My Car," which may not be a metaphor, and "Kissing Asphalt," which had better be) as a rewrite of "Skidmarks On My Heart" is admittedly foolish, the similarities between 1994's "The Whole World Lost Its Head" and the new "Throw Me A Curve" are undeniable (although the lyrics, which deride stick-figure models and celebrate the inherent curviness of women's bodies, redeem the effort handily).
Let me repeat, however: the Go-Go's sound great. For one thing, they sound like a band, organic and interconnected, each member sympathetic to the others and willing to complement the music being made. That may seem a needless distinction to make, but plenty of bands squander their second chances through the stubbornness of musicians who feel the need to remind everybody of their independence. The fact that the Go-Go's of 2001 utterly lack this tendency speaks well for everybody's commitment to the band itself. Frankly, though, I was more surprised that Carlisle's still got it in her throat. If anything, in fact, she's stronger than she's ever been, with two decades of experience combining with a slight, age-appropriate deepening to give her a power finally equal to her range.
The anchor, though, is Gina Schock, who has always been the band's unsung (and unsinging) secret weapon (although, considering the number of Go-Go's songs that kick off with just her drums, it's not like they didn't try to point it out). Her surf-rock rhythms are cranked up enough to keep the band flying apace. Still, while the Go-Go's aren't a terrible punk band, they were never a great one, either, but don't tell that to the blaze and fury of the performances (or Billy Joe Armstrong, who wisely, and sheepishly, chooses to stick waaaay to the background in "Unforgiven"). The songs, however, are too eager to listen, desperate to reclaim the Go-Go's' stature as key figures in the legendary L.A. punk scene at the expense of the band's strengths, which have always been in their pop smarts.
So, sure, there's plenty that I miss. Caffey's lead guitar doesn't seem to have the bite or distinctiveness of which she's capable, nor is there much in the way of harmony vocals (never, in fact, one of the band's key ingredients). And some of those songs could've been a bit better (step one: you're a group again, so stop collaborating with outsiders). But, hell, nothing sounds bad. Everything sounds promising. Some of God Bless even sounds great. Knocking on the door of the 21st century in "Sonic Superslide" ("We are your solar sisters/Here to make you shine"), the Go-Go's make inviting them in sound like a pretty good idea.