Some corners still wrestle with what exactly The Men are up to; what to make of the slow march of Americana with a capital Tom Petty creeping into their tracklistings. Live, their plans feel tacked to a different path. The Men deal in a brash form of art -- there's no apologies in their short and varied career. Last year at SXSW, the band ripped between current and future material. Guttural or shouted, scales or licks, every ounce of what makes their records so intimate in their softest and fiercest moments is on display. The Men have their shit on lock - even when boozy or doozy, there's always a chance that this is the definitive recital.
And it's a thrilling thing to witness, to have documented. The crisper, official-er Live At WFMU, shows them crafting deliberate guitar shreds, drums like a controlled demolition, complex yet measured bass -and vocals screaming "no, we're still some kind of punk band, but we don't even know what kind specifically..." No matter, we're in it for the ride. words/ b kramer
MP3: The Men :: Oh Yoko
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