Guaranteed Reviews

No Means No - Wrong (1988)

http://www.alternativetentacles.com/bandinfo.php?band=nomeansno

How I Feel About It

This has to be one of the greatest rock albums of all time, even if it broods like your gothic girlfriend after having lost a bet to a cheerleader. It is relentless when it engages in fantasy, as in The Tower; relentless when it moralizes, as in Life in Hell and relentless when it narrates, as in Oh No Bruno.

I think it’s safe to say that the band, at the time of release, was angry. However, this ferocious anger which so animates the music is tempered by an excellent (if sarcastic) sense of humor, so that the writer can make his points without preaching, or without really dragging you into the abyss. If it was any other band, these dark arrangements might have you impatient for the song to finish and the next one to start, but the sheer energy imparted into each one keeps the morass from suffocating you: it’s as if you get placed into a very stark landscape, a place you would never choose to go, and you can taste the doom, feel the gloom, but not suffer any of the consequences because you’re simply moving too fast.

The lyrics are grim. I Am Wrong and The End of All Things imply that the author really doesn’t have much for which to live. It’s as if the band is resigned to hell and they believe it their moral obligation to describe their passage in morbid detail. At the same time, the band makes it clear that they don’t have a moral compass (see also a 1998 interview with Rob Wright conducted by Sarahfrances Woodell at www.nomeansnowhatever.com) and their skill with their instruments belies the resignation evident in their lyrics. There are many albums which would suffer for their contradictions; but Wrong grabs you by the balls with them.

What I Think About It

This has to be one of the greatest rock albums of all time. Such a statement is bound to rile fans who know them as punk. Alternative Tentacles is, after all, Jello Biafra’s label, but this album in particular borrows heavily from hard rock and metal. It melds a punk attitude with schooled chops; not only does the band know how to play, it’s unsatisfied with simplistic lyrics. Wrong combines a muscular rhythm section with muscular lyrics and the combination is lethal.

Given the content of their songs, I wonder if the Brothers Wright (John on drums, Rob on bass) recoil from comparisons to fellow Canadians Neil Peart and Geddy Lee, yet to me the comparison is unavoidable. They are tight and dynamic in the same way as Rush, but without the heavy production and grandiose lyrics. John Wright has taken the same inspiration from Keith Moon, mixed it with the same sense of discipline as Peart, but used if for punk rather than hard rock or metal. He slaps these tunes around with a great deal of discipline and very little respect, and this makes songs like Big Dick and Rags and Bones make you want to air drum like you were fourteen.

Complimenting John’s drum and Rob’s bass is Andy Kerr on guitar. Inasmuch as the Wright brothers bring discipline to the train wreck of No Means No, Mr. Kerr is the actual wreck. It’s not that he’s ever out of synch (though sometimes one gets the impression he’s trying to catch up with his band mates) but there is a wildness about his contributions.

The chords are minor sevens, shards of them, inserted wantonly, like an impatient child. He tries intervals that scare most audiences, yet they compliment the bass lines which were obviously the starting point for these songs. Otherwise, the guitar is reminiscent of The Who: giant chords that let the drums and bass show through.

There are two vocalists. I can’t tell who is who, and neither is distinguished. They are clever in the arrangement of the vocals, using them very rhythmically in the same way that Ian MacKaye and Guy Picciotto of Fugazi do: in counterpoint. Normally, this is the sort of musicianship that turns punk audiences off, but like Fugazi, No Means No is only partially concerned with the key signature. They’re mostly concerned about how the lyrics can emphasize an already dynamic rhythm and that they do with aplomb.

There are some things I would change about some of the arrangements. The Tower, The End of All Things, Life in Hell and I Am Wrong all have a monotonous vocal delivery. Shouted with passion they might be, but the notes don’t change much, and it gets a bit boring after repeated listens.

In conclusion, you’re crazy not to add this album to your collection even if you’re not a punk fan. While I’ve never seen them live, I know people who have, people I trust. They say it’s a great show and I’m marking my calendar. You should too.

Steve Perry (no relation)