The Feelies - Crazy Rhythms

CHASED BY BULLIES, SWEATING TO THE INNER-TUNE

Well, ain't that an apt title. For The Feelies' debut is filled, top to bottom, head to toe, with Crazy Rhythms. At a time when morbid perusing and dour pretension dominated any Post-Punk not named Talking Heads, these upstanding suburbanites from New Jersey brought spunk and fervor to a rather dreary scene. Best of all, they managed to incorporate the same sense of burgeoning anxiousness ('The Boy With Perpetual Nervousness'), offset by a playful spirit that managed to quell any errant thoughts that came to light. Tracks like 'Fa Ce-La' and 'Everybody's Got Something To Hide' provide that buoyancy, with raucous lightweight guitars that align more with the as-yet defined Jangle Pop. While others, like 'Forces At Work' and 'Moscow Nights,' dabble in the darkness by choice. These are sane twenty-somethings with their heads screwed on, after all. The doldrums act as nothing more than a temporary cure for boredom. Which, in turn, provides Crazy Rhythms with unpredictable turns and crude desires.

I find numerous parallels to Ought, a modern Art Punk band who approached the same middle class dread with a more pointed touch. You can hear the influence on 'The Boy With The Perpetual Nervousness' and 'Loveless Love,' which features an immaculately-delirious finale that is unlike anything I've ever heard. Only Television came close, and still found themselves nowhere near the revelrous perambulation. Yet with all this, Crazy Rhythms saves my favorite two cuts for the end; 'Raised Eyebrows' and 'Crazy Rhythms.' Here, the band's nuanced combustion finds the spotlight, due to lead singer Glenn Mercier taking a backseat. On the former - a largely instrumental affair - The Feelies' convivial feelings dance recklessly around overlapped guitars and jarring percussion. It has that classic nostalgic spirit for the 80's and 90's, something I can only imagine wasn't felt at the time considering the century hadn't even turned yet when they made it. As for the latter, improvisational rhythms akin to a drugless 'European Son' spur the duration, bookended by Mercier's celebratory appearance, cajoling in a relationship with the ease of someone without a care in the world. The Feelies don't relate to everyone, but they certainly do to me.