Mannequin Men - "Fresh Rot"

Mannequin Men - Dead Kids (Flameshovel 2007)

Mannequin Men – Fresh Rot / Flameshovel

As far as today’s massive definition of rock ‘n’ roll goes, to be sub-classified as a proto-punk band has got to be the most impressive compliment one could give as a critic. Proto-punk is not a sound, a style, a specific tone or rhythm, or a look; it is an aesthetic and almost a way of life. It is a characteristic of rock-based bands that refused to be sucked into the pigeonholes of specific categorization. Though in retrospect they get grouped together as a movement themselves, the loose collective of late 60s rock bands (and all that followed in their footsteps) who refused to either concede to the mainstream conventions or get lost in the utopian haze of the hippie ideals helped define what today is known as the “underground.” I almost prefer to think of them as a middle ground between both viewpoints, choosing to neither complete conform nor completely rebel, and instead concerning themselves with neither and carving their own path of idiosyncratic experimentation. The proto-punkers are the intellectuals, the visionaries and most talented musicians who though they have the attributes to perform and excel at just about any level they want, decide to stay beneath the surface, observing, reacting and improving upon the entire music scene. Granted the name suggests that it only characterizes the bands that proceeded and helped form the punk sound, ideal and lifestyle, its spirit can be seen in almost every style twisting movement: the reaction to paint-by-numbers pop-rock that would become punk, the reaction to over-simplified punk that would become post-punk, the reaction to cheesy hair metal that would become grunge, the reaction to brainless cock-rock that would become post-rock, and so on and on. It’s about having the ears and state of mind to hear what is going around the three hundred and sixty degrees of sound that is the contemporary music scene and creating music that is deceptively simple, able to digest and an easy transition from the immediate music scene for the untrained ear, and pushing boundaries, encompassing the pioneers and defining a personal sound to the trained ear. What I am longwindedly trying to get at is Chicago’s Mannequin Men are a proto-punk band and because of that classification, they deserve your attention as a rock ‘n’ roll fan.

At first listen, the Windy City quartet sound like a hell of a good time. A sound primed for a week ending booze fest, the Mannequin Men snarl, sleaze, sass and suck the stress away from your 9-5 work day with their near-anthemic rock ‘n’ roll. There are choruses that cause the whole band to sing along, riffs that will fill the entire club with chiming jubilance, backbeats that will have you tapping your beer along unnoticeably and a lead singer that sneers his way through the amplifiers. But what is most impressive with the band’s Flameshovel debut, Fresh Rot, is the long line of influence that reveals itself when you spend some intimate time studying the music. Swirling in the heads of singer/guitarist Kevin Richard, bassist Rick Berger, guitarist Ethan D’Ercole (of the Watchers) and drummer Seth Bohn and producing itself as a cohesive Mannequin Men sound is a timeline of kick-ass rock bands that though defined/defining the era they existed in, never quite fit in with their contemporaries because of their proto-punk aesthetic including: The Sonics – The Rolling Stones – The Velvet Underground – Stooges – The Modern Lovers – Television – The Undertones – Wire – Richard Hell & the Voidoids – Dead Boys – The Contortions – Wipers – Dinosaur Jr. – Ponys – Black Lips. And like each of these bands, the buzzing foursome disguise their musical talent and ambitions into head bangin’, devil-horn throwin’, drink along until you fall on the floor 3-minute rock songs.

From the onset of album opener “Private School,” Kevin Richard’s voice immediately hooks your attention. More of a sneering snarl than a singing voice, Richards sleazes over tribal-lite drums, a punky bass line and D’Ercole’s wonderfully chiming electric guitar until the entire band yells along with the introduction of the chorus. But it’s not that the anthemic component of songs that really impresses, those are for the bar-dwellers and festival attendees, the real treat for us audiophiles swaggers just below the surface during the verses. With the deep-thudding rhythm section leading Richard’s hushed, irking vocals, D’Ercole scrapes subtly yet abrasively down the neck of his guitar while faint echoes of what sounds like Richard yelling along with himself add a multitude of dimension and depth to what sounds on the surface like a simple punk-rock tune. This attention to detail, despite being what a listener in passing may describe as a seedy rock sound, is the reason you know that the band are much bigger fans of Wire than say the Sex Pistols.

Recorded in one March afternoon in a home studio, Fresh Rot hooks the listener with the anthems in the first half and proceeds into the contemplative tunes as the album progresses. Early tracks like “Private School,” “Boys (They Don’t Mind)” and “Pattern Factory” will have you yelling along and pogo-ing relentlessly, but it’s the later tracks like “Dead Kids,” “Mattress,” “22nd Century” and “Ev’rybody Has Lved Her” that will have you keeping the album on repeat. And what’s most impressive is though there is a very cohesive sound to the album, each track sounds decisively different within the undertones. For example, “Dead Kids” is practically a Ventures song recreated in the same manner artwork designer and legendary illustrator Gary Panter would have raggedly interpreted a piece of commercial art, in a caringly sloppy manner that emphasizes both texture and a DIY approach; not to mention the inventive and wonderfully jagged yet chiming guitar playing from D’Ercole that leaves no guessing why James Chance has repeatedly used him as part of his touring band. And on the complete opposite side of things, the more hypnotic, bass-riding “22nd Century” instrumentally is the groove Interpol has been trying to capture since their inception (though they repeatedly get wrapped up in stadium-sized production), but with more blue-collar swagger thanks to Richard’s nasal inflection.

Already making waves with an increasing tour schedule and a slew of positive press, it will be interesting to see what kind of attention Mannequin Men gets when the album officially drops in two weeks. They have a sound that is relatable no matter your geographic location; Fresh Rot could as comfortably sit on Seattle’s Sub Pop roster as it could Washington, D.C.’s Dischord. But Chicago’s Flameshovel does seem most appropriate since not only is the album dedicated to the quartet’s beloved Midwest hometown, but Flameshovel has this underdog ideal that rings symbiotically with the group. The only aspect working against the band is their proto-punk aesthetic, which seems counterintuitive, but their sound encompasses so much it is practically scene-less. Fresh Rot is too gritty and snearing for the indie-rock crowd, too ambitious for the bars or garages, and too widely influenced for the pure punk rockers. The proto-punk category of bands are often more revered in retrospect, which is may be bad for a band stuck in the present, but a rare treat for us music fans.