Photo: Eric Schumacher-Rasmussen
Ever since I saw Electric Six a decade ago, they've been one of my favorite bands. My wife and I were cajoled into seeing Junior Senior, who were riding on a minor hit with "Move Your Feet," and were in the opening slot for a band we'd never heard of. Along with most everyone else, I've forgotten all about Junior Senior, but Electric Six blew my mind in a way that can't be unblown.
"Danger! High Voltage" wasn't yet a hit, nor was the song that will define them forever, the goofy "Gay Bar." But the power of those songs was undeniable, even on first listen, and the rest of the band's set was no less powerful—danceable rock and roll driven equally by fuzz guitars and synthesizers, loaded with hooks and sing-along choruses.
Plus, they exhibited a quality all too rare in rock music: They were damned funny. Lead singer Dick Valentine mocked rock star cliches, striking GQ poses and counting the money in his wallet while Johnny Na$hinal (since rechristened "The White Wolf" [but you gotta say it low and guttural, and hold the "o" so it sounds like "white WOOOLF"]) took his guitar solos.
I've seen them a couple of times since then, most recently this March at the High Noon Saloon in Madison, pictured above. And while their albums have been inconsistent, their live performances continue to astound. The lineup has changed a bit, but the core of Valentine, The White WOOLF!, and synth player Tait Nucleus? (yes, the question mark is part of his name, kiddies) has been consistent since 2004, as has the band's dedication to tight, hard-rocking, ass-shaking tunes.
And the whole is definitely greater than the sum of its parts. On paper, Electric Six should be pretty good, but you'd think they'd wear thin after a few listens or shows. Songs like "Dance Commander" and the "Down at McDonnelzzz" (video below) don't exactly carry the weight of deep human insights. So why the hell do I love them almost as much as any so-called "serious" band?
That's a question I've wrestled with for years, being a former professional rock critic and all. And I've determined that the problem isn't with any answer I come up with, it's in the nature of the question, one that suggests that only IMPORTANT ART can have a deep emotional effect on an audience. Even after all these years, that's an assumption I have a hard time shaking, even as I know it to be a false one. (Dominic Taylor deals with the underlying questions well in his essay "Two Considerations for Criticism," in which he reminds us of the importance of asking why and for whom in any critical assessment.)
Electric Six answer Frank Zappa's question "Does humor belong in music?" with a wholehearted "Damned straight it does," but their music, like Zappa's, moves its audience's minds as well as its collective ass. In fact, it's because their music carries such a physical punch that it carries emotional heft. There's nothing cold about Electric Six's approach to either lyrics or music, and on their strongest material (most of which can be heard on the live set Absolute Pleasure, they hit just as hard as Detroit antecedents The Stooges.
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