Bearing in mind they seemed omnipresent at MTV awards, cruised effortlessly to double platinum status and made the likes of David Letterman in the time it takes most of us to get out of the rehearsal room, that the PRESIDENTS OF THE USA should have suddenly split somewhere around the tail end of 1997 still seems a suicidal move. Hell, which one of us wouldn’t (if we’re honest) really strive for the sort of career that blunders into success the way most of us unwittingly step on dog turds in the street?
It’s a metaphor you imagine the apparently ick’n’poo-obsessed Seattle trio would probably richly enjoy, yet for all their ‘hey, we’re weally cwazy guys, us’ schtick, they actually couldn’t cope with the speed of their success at the time and – instead of becoming martyrs to the cause like all good rock stars – they simply called it a day.
Except they never quite walked away from it either, because by 2000 they were quietly recording again (laying down “Freaked Out And Small” for the Internet-based MusicBlitz.Com) and finally making a full-blown return with the recent “Love Everybody” and announcing that they were back for the long haul. Hooray.
So now that the dust has settled somewhat, it’s as good a time as any for the Presidents to re-introduce us to their eponymously-titled debut, the one that kick-started all the acclaim a whole decade ago. And you might be surprised, but at least a good proportion of it has actually aged effectively, if not exactly graciously.
The Presidents had always seemed kinda gimmicky at the time. Their line-up was basically guitar, bass and drums, but of course vocalist Chris Ballew actually played a 2-string ‘bassitar’ (akin the sound Mark Sandman used to get with the sadly-missed Morphine) and guitarist Dave Dederer also employed a less-than-traditional 3-string variation called a ‘guitbass’ which seems self-explanatory. Indeed, while drummer Jason Finn played a relatively traditional kit, he had a penchant for cowbells and other percussion instruments which ensured he stood apart from the herd too.
Nonetheless, the Presidents’ unorthodox approach won hearts aplenty at the time and its’ not hard to see why when you consider how ridiculously infectious the likes of “Lump” and the daft, Californian-paradise scenario of “Peaches” are concerned. These are the two everyone remembers, though of course there was also “Dune Buggy” which as all-out cartoon rock sounding like Morphine jamming with The Knack and being mugged by Nirvana on the way home goes, still sounds curiously cool.
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More goodies come courtesy of “Boll Weevil” and “Back Porch”, too. The first features phenomenal drumming from Finn, Ballew and Dederer’s faux-rap delivery hitting the spot in fine style and the whole band going for the burn effectively come crescendo time while the supremely silly railroad rhythms of “Back Porch” come across as a deranged hybrid of The Minutemen and NoMeansNo before fairly steaming into the chorus.
The band’s tendency to embrace all things puerile sometimes blows up in their face, though. The likes of the thinly-veiled “Feather Pluckn” and “Stranger” push the They-Might-Be-Giants-with-a-toilet-fixation schtick way too far and by the home strait they’re truly flagging with songs like the terminally irritating “Candy” and a redundant-before-it-starts version of the MC5’s immortal “Kick Out The Jams”. One can only imagine they were desperate for last-minute filler here.
Nevertheless, for all its’ unstinting quirkiness, “Presidents Of The USA” actually stands up admirably to re-appraisal a good decade on. The laws of all things rock’n’roll will probably ensure the fanfare is more muted this time around, but then this album’s space has already been carved out at Mount Rushmore and that won’t prevent it gaining affection with a newer generation this time around either.
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