Thousands of lights, thousands of people/She's forgotten him for the bodies around her
Back when punk was still an adjective & not a label, Los Angeles scene leaders X released their magnum opus, an album I can only describe as haunted. Haunted by urban decay, by testosterone, by all the beers in all the bars, but predominantly haunted by the shocking death of a family member. The sister of Exene Cervenka, X's co-songwriter & co-lead singer, died in a car accident in 1980 on her way to see the band perform. It wasn't until 2 years & 2 albums later that Cervenka & the rest of the band were able to process those feelings into songs--explicitly through the title track, "Riding With Mary," "Come Back to Me" & their cover of "Dancing with Tears in My Eyes"; implicitly through the somber mood of the rest of the record's songs, & even the cover art--a noir-esque depiction of a darkened city room that makes you wonder what entities or feelings are hidden in the shadows.
This epochal L.A. rock band of the '80s has a connection to an epochal L.A. rock band of the '60s thanks to Ray Manzarek from The Doors, who produced X's first 4 albums & occasionally contributed keyboards. Under the Big Black Sun does carry an obvious amount of Doors influence: unconventional instruments for rock music (marimbas, clarinets, etc.) & oblique, poetic lyrics. As a matter of personal taste, I find Cervenka & Doe's poetry to be way more emotionally true & way less annoying than Morrison's but I acknowledge that the comparison is there to be drawn. The complex feelings in those lyrics, mirroring the progressive (by punk standards) song structures, are what make Under the Big Black Sun X's best album.
The basic musical tension is between Billy Zoom's jazzy, sometimes dissonant guitar chords & the tuneful singing from Cervenka & Doe, usually evoking '60s pop melodies. Pretty much every song features this combo, with a wash of jagged chords that don't always go where you expect them to. Even "Come Back to Me," a superficially simple '50s-styled doo-wop shuffle, manages some tricky twists & turns in its plaintive, reaching ascending chord progression. The vocals balance the pop sensibility & latent sadness of that '50s style; Cervenka describes her sister's funeral & its aftermath with poetic exactness.
X's other sonic signature is the dual vocals of Cervenka & Doe. They almost always sing in unison, with one or the other taking the lead by virtue of volume, & they are less concerned with singing harmonies than creating an otherworldly drone, almost like a sitar, through well-chosen intervals & the natural characters of both voices: Doe's chesty baritone & Cervenka's wail, more expressive but less intelligible. I've heard many male/female vocal duos attempt to recreate this magic, but I've never heard one that sounds remotely similar.
The songs that plainly address the sister's death are the most affecting, looking at grief through the lens of Cervenka's Catholic upbringing. "Riding with Mary" closes on these chilling lines: "On the dashboard rides a figurine/a powerless sweet forgotten thing/so the next time you see a statue of Mary/remember my sister was in a car." The title track, possibly my favorite song on the album, sounds like a triumphant rock song until you pay attention to the lyrics, a cry of frustration about trying to mourn a loved one while also trying to be a rock star in a world that just won't stop moving: "Everybody asks me how I'm doing/I'm doing everything alone/Rave on children and try to sleep."
Even the songs that aren't explicitly about that fateful accident & its aftermath are infused with a vague sense of decrepit urban menace & drunken fatalism. Witness "Real Child of Hell" with its dramatic drop & build in the post-chorus, telling of a toxic masculine populace whose threat isn't even the worst problem you have; or the savage "Because I Do," the closest song to their no-frills punk roots, lamenting the dehumanizing effects of loveless marriage & adulterous lust. "Because I Do" also features the best performance by drummer D.J. Bonebrake, who in addition to being a great drummer, also has the greatest drummer name of all time. (Chuck Biscuits is a close second.)
I have the 2001 Rhino reissue with 5 bonus tracks that don't do much to enhance the original LP. I've never been a big fan of bonus tracks--occasionally they work, but in situations like this, I'd much rather have the album end on the mournful boogie-rock fadeout of "The Have Nots." The band ended the record the way they wanted to, & for an album with such a complex tangle of feelings & sounds, I'd appreciate the ability to sit with it rather than have to dive for the stop button before it launches into another version of "Riding with Mary."
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