While I’ll staunchly defend my belief that the man hasn’t released a truly decent album since 1995’s Twenty Mothers, I will always be a slavishly devoted fan of Julian Cope. At his best, the self-proclaimed “arch-drude” is handily capable of both rocking furiously and simultaneously crafting the most pristinely executed, hook-laden pop the world has ever known. This only makes it all the more frustrating that while he remains tirelessly prolific, he has chosen to release nothing but chronically inaccessible music for the last decade and a half. Still you can’t fault the man for following his muse.
Along the way, Julian has also written several hugely entertaining and informative books and launched a rather stately website that culls together not only his own doings, but also acts as an information clearing house for esoteric music. Even if you’re not a fan of the man, Head Heritage is well worth a perusal. So while I may not like the last few albums he’s foisted upon the world, Cope’s surreal wit, excellent taste and unquenchable thirst for the new keep me coming back to the source.
So imagine my glee when it was recently revealed to me that the estimable Mr. Cope shares my affinity for the music of Tom Lehrer. As he recounts in his review of a Lehrer compilation, Julian Cope was first exposed to Lehrer’s singularly devious brand of humor (imagine Mark Russell with a lot more talent, satirical venom and disregard for standards & decency) by his folks. Much like Julian, I too was first introduced to the music of Tom Lehrer by my parents. My step-father – an otherwise straight-laced, upstanding citizen with a stridently conservative perspective -- owned a copy of Songs by Tom Lehrer, a family favorite that saw regular rotation on the household turntable right alongside Blind Blake. In exceptionally short order, I memorized each and every track on the album, thrilling to Lehrer’s giddily snide delivery and provocative lyrics. I also rememver enjoying the fact that the front cover cast Lehrer banging away at the keys of his piano while the fires of Hell crackled around him. It was genius.
As Cope points out, Lehrer was a master subversive of his era, playing cocktail-party-friendly ditties laced with black humor and sedition. It was piano bar punk rock that took no prisoners. As I grew older, while my step-father shuddered with palpable contempt at my affinity for bands like Kiss, The Ramones and Devo, we bonded over a mutual love of Tom Lehrer. We even zealously attended a revival of a Tom Lehrer revue, “Tomfoolery,” at the (long since vanished) Village Gate Theater in Greenwich Village (which is now a CVS drug store… yeah, we needed another one of those, didn’t we). To this day, I can still remember every cheeky lyric off that first record. As I’m sure Julian Cope can too.
Decades after the fact, Lehrer’s songs are still hilarious, still brilliant and still right on the money. Treat yourself and seek them out
Recent Comments