fIREHOSE – If'n

"If'n" starts out with an archetypal pop song. Ingenius manipulation of two simple chords for the majority of 'Something' draws you in but its the quieter chorus, narrated by George Hurley's standard effortless but powerful drumming that drives you through the tunnel illuminated by Ed's subtle licks. The only break is a shortened version of the verse where the bass leads you right back into the loop that licks at the pleasure center of your brain. Great opener - to an album, or a show.

"Hear Me" is the immediate reminder that you are listening to 2/3rds of Minutemen, the remainder the world's greatest super fan of said group. Musical experimentation, in many ways simpler or more 'rootsy' than much of the Minutemen repertoire but still abrasive enough to remind you that this album isn't just here to show off how well they can write a track that can be so immediately beloved. You will indeed 'hear' them - if you don't, you'll be reminded by the type of punctuation as left by George Hurley's closing remarks on this track.

"Honey, Please" falls somewhere between the two above tracks yet retains enough of something danceable enough to just be relentless enough. The driving piano licks and the wonderful warm, finger plucked bass tone draw you in and hold you tight. That bass line is purely delightful! This song's place on the tracklist begins to create the pattern of 'pop song' and the results of a mad scientists laboratory where the Minutemen's ghost react with a stranger from Ohio.

One of the shortest song on the album, "Backroads" harkens to more of what Ed is capable of, and that which we are yet to experience in the coming songs. It almost leaves me on the edge of my seat, as if it was leading to something, that just never comes. Still it remains not quite chaotic as some of the odd tracks on this album, and almost country in it's clean, acoustic chords and the warm vocals Ed brings to the table. 'Nothing even scares me so...'

"From One Cums One" was not laid to tape for you, the listener. It is an exercise in bass runs yet with just enough meat remaining to not make it a pointless display of fretboard prowess. Still, after experiencing it once, the initial verse/chorus/etc will only have you begging for that bass break. Many years in the making, Mike shines here not just for playing a melodic solo that can stand on it's own but one which also shows a man so well acquainted with the piece of furniture in his hands that it is a thing of beauty; a moment immortalized and worthy of great respect.

"Making The Freeway" starts with some stereo-phonic highway sounds then leads to what I can only call goofball vocals that I cannot take seriously enough to evaluate in an intellectual manner. The song feels frivolous, while not devoid of redeeming value it seems to be more rewarding to the musicians and writers than the listeners, one of a few on the album. On it's own, it is a failure. As another chapter in this saga, it has it's place.

An appearance from Mike Watt's once spouse Kira of Black Flag is pertinent on "Anger", one of the most powerful tracks on the album and one which took me a while to be drawn in. The break between verses is such a teaser: I could speak volumes of my iration for George Hurley's drumming and it is here that it speaks so articulately, and you see what environment it can best excel in. Still, the song ebbs and flows and seems to lead nowhere...when you have heard all the possibilities, it simply reboots and just when it seems to have become redundant the coda arrives and we are gratified at ANGER! ANGER! ANGER!

Here at the halfway point, things really start to pay off. We see a more cohesive group of tracks that really form an almost perfect album in itself. It is track #8 "For The Singer Of REM" that first piqued my interest in the group, and the album. I am still a bit unsure on exactly what aspect of the song is the most obvious reference to Mr. Stipe but title aside, the song drones perfectly to almost lull you into a retardation where you thump thump thump and nod along and feel as though you could do it forever. And enjoy it. Again, the drumming is so articulate, in many ways it is the small and quiet mouse that breaks the drone and gives you something, even on a subconscious level, to enjoy and keep you interested.

"Operation Solitaire" seems like it could be an improvised piece, with broken, unrhyming poetry mumbled the thread that trails over it, brushing on the music below as it soars away. It serves as just a short respite until 'Windmilling' arrives - a true thing of beauty, and I state that literally. One of only two songs who's lyrics are penned by Mr. Hurley, they seem to attempt (and succeed) to sum up the wondrous notion of love, the companionship between two people, soulmates, Windmilling down the lane. A wildly short guitar solo brings us back to step one and it is a pleasant place to be returned to, infinitely.

"Me & You, ing" is the final slice of musical madness on this album and perhaps the most chaotic of the bunch. Again, it plays well as part of a whole, and as an intro to the last three tracks of the album which work so wonderfully together. 'In Memory of Elizabeth Cotton' is far, far too short, simple finger picked acoustic guitar with vocals warmly formed around it: a duet of female and male, twining together. The silence in the song when the lyrics become tacit speak so strongly, I am almost afraid to breathe or move during those moments. During the moments when Ed does speak, my emotions crest and I nearly become overwhelmed. Perhaps not the most indicative song on the album of the whole's genius, but by itself nearly a guilty pleasure in its intelligence, so quickly washed away as we are left for so much more, longing and smiling.

"Soon" is perhaps the most powerful song on the album, in an entirely different way than the track which proceeded it. Only a drummer like George can handle the controlled madness of the verses - only a group such as this trio can handle the brick-wall abruptness of the transition to the break; a tempo change that hits like a hammer. Somehow it works, on what level it appeals to my intelligence I do not know, but it is so pleasing.

The final bookend, "Thunder Child" is the epic of the album, a final bookend who's initial vocals and lyrics are far too ridiculous to take seriously. Somewhere a drum solo splurges, and somewhere else I lose interest. I must it openly to disregarding this song in my listens.