YOUR OWN REVIEW
Being another compilation, RAZOR BLADE SUIT is an uneven
mix of humor and horror, but the parts that are greater than the whole
are damn funny, and damn scary.
MY BEST FRIEND is a joke that's too long in the telling, but the ending
-- with the guy left to sit around and grumble at his t.v. set -- brings
I DON'T LIKE RUSSELL could be the idle threats of a blitzed blowhard down
at the local bar, who's more likely to harm himself by falling off of
PUT THE GUN DOWN BOBBY is a standoff between a lawman and a desperate
gunman, while the mother looks on -- the made-for-t.v. version of the
widescreen epic "High Noon in Killville".
JENNIE seems to be an ode to a trustworthy girlfriend, but don't pat yourself
on the back too much if you see it coming: The reason she will never
stray, or go away, is that she is dead on the floor.
I'VE GOT A... sounds like the exhausted ramblings of a fugitive killer.
The song, like the man it is about, seems to be running on fumes.
Angry doesn't visit the Old West often enough. It's a setting that
compliments both his gun-toting philosophy and his mandolin-toting band.
In MEASURE ME UP FOR A COFFIN, a pair of doomed lovers are murdered
by the evil Sheriff, but the pine-boxed hero vows, "If love is a
sin/and Heaven won't let us in/we'll walk into Hell hand in hand."
Even more suckers than usual try to off themselves this time out, with
Old Scratch as their Kevorkian guide. BABY TONIGHT finds another
betrayed lover trying not to be forgotten by ceasing to exist.
ONE LAST TIME is more poetic -- "No winners/only losers here/an emptiness/and
empty beers." A funeral organ adds a metaphysical sorrow to
the earthy proceedings in FROM THE BOTTOM.
The song that has the last laugh, however, is MESS ON THE FLOOR -- an
infectious little suicidal ditty that finds Angry kazoo-ing his way beyond
GO OUT DANCING is like those spooky montages on "Twin Peaks",
when the one-armed man or Bob would appear and start speaking in riddles.
You're not sure what's going on, but whatever it is, it's creepy.
WHEN I WOKE UP opens with yet another killer in yet another gore-soaked
room, who takes to the highway, hoping -- like "The Hitcher"
-- for someone to finally stop him.
The title track is a dead-on look out from behind the eyes of a psychopath,
the tune Jack the Ripper might whistle while he works. "I might
kill her/I might cut her/I might leave her in the gutter."
This release would be an entertaining enough serving of Angry's leftovers,
but the inclusion of DEATH IS DRIVING A PONTIAC makes it a must-have.
At almost seven minutes, this is the craft of songwriting at its
purest: One man, one guitar, and one hell of a story.
A pair of serial killers prowl the back roads in a '66 Catalina -- "The
Devil don't drive Mopars/The Devil don't drive Fords" -- following
orders from Satan on their Delco radio. "Sometimes he sounds exactly
just like David Allen Coe/sometimes Bobby Darin/sometimes Barry Manilow."
Cowboy and Eugene are the baddest of the bad men Angry has ever sung about.
They leave bloodied bodies wherever they go, from a sodomitic convenience
store robbery to a horrifying wedding massacre that makes "Kill Bill"
look like "Scooby Doo".
But fear not, the hunters are also being hunted, by a changed man who
once rode with them. "Gabriel enlisted me in the army of The
Lord/Traded my damnation for a Dan Wesson .44."
So evocative is this tale that you find yourself hoping for a great final
showdown between the trio, sort of "The Bad, The Badder, and the
Ugliest". And indeed, this may come to pass; Angry is writing
a novel about these three. He tells me it would make a good screenplay,
too. Or maybe a graphic novel.
But you now what I'm thinking?
Or, you know, all of the above.