Omar Rodriguez-Lopez & Lydia Lunch - "Omar Rodriguez-Lopez & Lydia Lunch"

Omar Rodriguez-Lopez & Lydia Lunch - Welcome to My Church (Willie Anderson 2007)

Omar Rodriguez-Lopez & Lydia Lunch - Omar Rodriguez-Lopez & Lydia Lunch / Willie Anderson

Feelings on fleetingly brilliant Omar Rodriguez-Lopez are conflicted here at Audiversity: My first listen to At the Drive-In's Relationship of Command remains one of the seminal moments in my listening history, but The Mars Volta's Frances the Mute is an album that I have ill sentiments toward like few others. How things changed so dramatically is a critical point of interest: At the Drive-In represents one of the most extreme revelations of where members of a single group were musically before a fissure. But what does The Mars Volta represent when Omar goes his own way from that?

The first glimpse was 2005's A Manual Dexterity: Soundtrack Volume One. At that point, all we'd had from The Mars Volta was Tremulant and De-Loused in the Comatorium, so A Manual Dexterity sounded not totally unlike these releases. When Frances came out, Rodriguez-Lopez's solo material looked like the bookending of The Mars Volta's roughened edges as they delved head-first into ambient wankery of the highest order. Amputechture was not the redemption some were looking for, and I'm still waiting for the moment when The Mars Volta finally realize that they have lost sight of their high-minded ambition and devolved into something way worse than a salsa-tinged Tool. It's not a pretty picture.

But seeing as how Rodriguez-Lopez is such an integral part of The Mars Volta, why is it that he's appearing for the third time on this website in less than a year if we hate what he does so much? The answer is that we don't. While his primary pursuit remains wrapped up in its own big-budget pursuit of "changing the way people think about music" (or another equally futile declaration that will no doubt change when they get dropped from a major), his solo and collaborative efforts are changing more perceptions about him and what he does directly than any 80-minute epic ever could. Though Rodriguez-Lopez hasn't been known for being succinct since he had one last name, an EP early this year with Can man Damo Suzuki and solo LP Se Dice Bisonte, No Bùfalo have both proven that he can hold his own on a guitar without needing a semi full of effects pedals.

It's this anticlimactic revelation that has been at the crux of these releases this year. Give him a wah-wah pedal or a delay unit and that's all he needs to slay your headphones and your mind. In fact, Omar is at his best when he's being held back. Cornered and with only his improv instincts to go on, Rodriguez-Lopez is a veritable master of the six-string. For the latest proof, look no further than a self-titled collaboration with the infamous Lydia Lunch out on the quiet Dutch label Willie Anderson.

While this review has been all about Rodriguez-Lopez and his musical flair showing itself all over this five-song EP, Lydia deserves more than mere mention too; without her, this EP would be a one-man spectacle lacking in a healthy mixture of vulgar feminism and politically charged sarcasm. The spoken word verse present here comes from a woman who might best be known for her contribution to the Brian Eno-curated No New York compilation with Teenage Jesus & the Jerks. Lunch has done plenty since to stay active, including a dozen spoken word releases and a host of music releases most recently punctuated by 2004's Smoke in the Shadows.

She's got a bitter sense of humor and she doesn't hide it, but the themes that keep reappearing throughout these five songs are all in the titles: "Welcome to My Church," "Getting Rid of God," "Back to the Goddess," The End of the White Man's Revolution," and "Woman (In the Beginning)." These phrases keep getting delivered with a sardonic sneer that drills home the point that, yeah, white men are pretty much the source of all that's wrong with the world. I can't say I disagree all the time, except all the times that I don't believe in uniform cultural constructs. Which is all the time.

That would be straying into territory meant only for anthro majors, so here instead are some lyrics: "God was the first cop / God was the first cock." And he was also a low-life motherfucker who caused wars. He was, of course, also invented. This is only 24 minutes long all told, but it's amazing what you'll learn if you've been spending too much time at Young Life or tuning in to TBN. Flailing saxophone courtesy Adrián Terrazas-González flavors "Welcome to My Church," and despite lyrics that would make even the most relaxed believer squirm a little ("Annie, get your gun!" Lunch begs with vitriol), the reason it's all so convincing is because it's presented as such a unified statement.

I'm not going to lie and say I'm not a sucker for circularity, but the way in which Lunch weaves the same critical phrases in and out of her poetry had me at approximately "Fuck you, white guy." You may not actually believe we need to get rid of God, but it sounds like a legitimate proposition in Lydia's hands. And even if her words aren't for you, the thing is that the words weave with the music because the music weaves with itself, too. This is the great art of Omar Rodriguez-Lopez. If nothing else, the man can textualize the fuck out of a song. The sax is great and Marcel Rodriguez-Lopez's drumming is nothing short of relentlessly strong, but Omar steals the show because he's exercising restraint. Even when he's playing, there are times when you don't notice it because he can turn his shredding into white noise and back again with the simple alteration of his tones.

I don't know if a whole album of Lydia Lunch hating on white men in power is for everyone, but I think the more important motive of calling women to arms, to get women to get up and do something and be active and not just marry straight out of college so they can have kids and talk about being comfortable, that's what's critical to this poetry and the presentation of this album as a genuine collaboration rather than merely another interesting bit of Omar Rodriguez-Lopez trivia for Mars Volta fans who dug deeper. If I say anymore I'll look like I'm either patronizing women or acting like Lydia Lunch is a unique case just because she speaks out about female empowerment, so let's all hold hands and sing "Kumbaya" as I declare Omar Rodriguez-Lopez and Lydia Lunch's self-titled EP a match made in heaven. Er, you know. If you believe in that sort of thing.