This week on Left of The Dial, we’re taking a look at Beelzebubba by The Dead Milkmen. The Dead Milkmen are a comedic-punk band from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, consisting of Rodney Linderman on vocals and keyboard, Joe Genaro on vocals and guitar, Dean Sabatino on drums, and Dave Schulthise on bass. Beelzebubba was the band’s fourth studio album, released in 1988, and the one that garnered them the most mainstream success thanks to the single “Punk Rock Girl.” We’ll talk about that track in more depth later, but in the meantime, let’s have a look at the rest of the record.
“Brat In The Frat” kicks us off, and in a refreshingly straightforward way for this column. So far, all of the records I’ve covered feature lyrics riddled with metaphor and dripping with symbolism, so it’s a good chaser to look at something that doesn’t take too much thought to interpret. Anyways, as the title implies, this track is an attack on prissy frat boys. Our narrator complains about the typical frat boy lifestyle, of going to Harvard and blowing their money on parties and alcohol, and how shallow they really are once they’re forced into the real world. The narrator also hints that this particular brat has a lower opinion of people with less disposable income than him, with lyrics like “You’re wrong about the working class, I hope they kick your Harvard ass.” The only problem I can see with this track is how short it is. Clocking in at 1:06, it’s the shortest song on the record, and it goes by in a blink. Unfortunately, that sometimes leads to me forgetting that I even listened to it, perhaps because the next track is so shocking in what topic it handles.
“Rc’s Mom” is a take on soul singer James Brown, who, at the time of the record’s release, was arrested for domestic violence against his wife, Adrienne Rodriguez. Genaro takes on Brown’s perspective, gleefully singing about the horrible things he’s going to do to his wife, from simply repeating the line “Gonna beat my wife,” to more specific acts like “Gonna smack her with a lead pipe,” directly referencing how Brown allegedly beat Rodriguez with a pipe. Genaro goes further with the James Brown impersonation, mimicking his singing style and even letting out his trademark “Good God, y’all!” at the end of the second verse. The instrumentals also take on a Brown-like sound, incorporating jazzy horns and a funky guitar riff. The track definitely runs with its subject, and I have to applaud that.
“Stuart” is our next track, and one of my personal favorites off the record. This one is a spoken track with musical accompaniment, as Genaro plays a conservative, redneck American ranting to his friend Stuart about some conspiracy of “what the queers are doing to the soil.” He says that the people around him are either unaware of the conspiracy or too stupid to understand. Genaro describes a few eccentric characters in this story, including “that Jonny Wurster kid,” who’s name is derived from Jon Wurster, a friend of the band and drummer for Superchunk. Jonny is a stupid kid, not realizing that Burrow Owls live underground until the narrator spells it out for him. The other character described in detail is Bill Jr., the narrator’s deceased son, who was decapitated by a carnival ride when he failed to follow the safety instructions. The story takes a tragic turn when we come to realize that Bill Jr.’s death was the catalyst for the narrator’s belief in the conspiracy theory, and that Stuart is probably the only person in the trailer park willing to listen to his rant. Overall, it makes for a hilarious take on a subject that’s all too relevant to American life to this day.
“I Walk The Thinnest Line” comes next, which describes a character who fluctuates wildly between two states of being. The “thinnest line” he walks on is likely his mental stability, because his descriptions of his “light” and “dark” sides are pretty different. One side stays at home and fantasizes about getting a girl to sleep with him, and the other spits on people from high up in trees and “drink[s] enough beer to fill a bathtub.” There is one thing that straddles the metaphorical line though: television. Whichever side the narrator falls into, he still enjoys TV when he gets bored. The demented subject matter is accented with the pounding bass line and the harmonic screeches of Genaro and Linderman’s vocals. In the grand scheme of the record, it “walks the thinnest line” between being great and so-so. It’s far from being bad, but I suppose there are other tracks I’d rather listen to than this.
Speak of the devil, “Sri Lanka Sex Hotel” is one of those tracks, being another personal favorite of mine. It’s also one of the more ambiguous tracks in terms of story, so let’s take a crack at it, shall we? My interpretation is that it’s about a man who’s been worn down to a tangled mess of cynicism and borderline sociopathy. He only gets pleasure in life from sex, and has little regard for anyone he might hurt from his behavior. He rattles off crazy ideas for things to do, from burning down houses to having sex with dogs to trespassing on a crash site and bullying the cops. The chorus adds a drug addiction as a possible cause for his issues, using a roller coaster ride as a metaphor for the ups and downs of such a problem. The line “This is my last roller coaster ride” seems to indicate that deep down, the narrator just wants to die and that his wish is about to come true via a drug overdose. The repetition of that line makes it stick in your mind. It shows that the band is capable of covering any topic and making it ridiculous.
“Bad Party” makes for a good palate cleanser from the darkness of the previous track. This one is about a group of hooligans crashing a bad party and seeing what they can do to spice it up. One of these hooligans being namechecked is Ricky Casso, a teenager who made headlines in 1984 for murdering another teen and having connections to Satanism. That last note is referenced in the lines “When we get there we’ll say we love Satan, Ricky always thinks that’s funny.” At the time, his crime was blamed on heavy metal music by the media, a not uncommon scapegoat for teenage anarchy back in the day. As the song goes on, it becomes clear that these hooligans won’t hold any punches, describing how they want to shoot the stereo for playing music they hate, or shoot the people that won’t shut up about British soap operas, and generally do as much damage as possible. To elaborate on that point, the track concludes with a guitar being smashed.
Now we come to “Punk Rock Girl,” the track that garnered the band the most mainstream success. It tells the story of a boy meeting the titular punk rock girl at Zipperhead, a punk clothing store in Philadelphia, and the crazy adventures the pair get themselves into. They go to the Philly Pizza Company and make a scene when they’re told they can’t get their tea hot, head to the mall and cause more trouble, then end the song with them driving away in a stolen car. In between, they have dinner with her parents, and we get a plot twist: the punk rock girl comes from a stinking rich family and probably acts the way she does because she has money as a safety net. This is given away with the lines “Your dad is the vice president, Rich as the Duke of Earl.” It leaves a bit to the imagination, making you wonder if the narrator is really in love with the girl for her rebellious nature, or for her money.
Next up is “Bleach Boys,” which describes the all-too relatable pastime of wanting to drink bleach to deal with the world’s issues. The narrator looks at bleach as a better alternative to drugs and alcohol, especially since it kills you young before the weight of the world gets you down. The lines “Some people drive fast others love to bet, Still others snort coke in a private jet, But drinking bleach is my way of winning,” perfectly encapsulates the narrator’s reasoning. It’s interesting to look at this subject through a 1988 lens, since the term “drinking bleach” has taken on a whole new relevance to the youth of 2020. We have such a low opinion of the world that we regularly joke about wanting to die and share memes about chugging bottles of bleach in an act of suicide. I don’t know if it’s comforting or devastating to see that young adults in the late 80’s were feeling the same way, though this song gives the impression that the narrator was drinking bleach more for the thrill and less to commit suicide. I’ll leave you with this line to consider: “Teenage suicide rates shot high and we, Understand the reasons why.”
To get us out of that stupor, we have “My Many Smells,” which I can say with confidence has no deeper meaning behind its lyrics. You get what you read, a description of awful smells the narrator sometimes has. I have to give credit for the detail in these odor descriptions, though you might want to skip ahead if you’re squeamish. Some of the many smells include “thick black swamp-water, Backed into your toilet on a warm summer day,” and “just like the bathroom, After Grandma’d used it and she’s been eating prunes.” I’d say this is on the lower tier of songs on the record, not for the gross-out humor but for the repetition. The song drags a bit with the repetition of “smell me,” especially during the last minute of the track.
“Smokin’ Banana Peels” is the next track, detailing the ridiculous “high” one gets from smoking banana peels. The humor of the song becomes more apparent when you realize that banana peels aren’t capable of making you high; the FDA concluded that any highs experienced from whatever concoctions you made with the peels was just a placebo effect. That didn’t stop people in on the joke from making bogus recipes to extract the “bananadine” chemical from peels and making a few quick bucks from gullible people desperate for a cheap high. Anyways, the song gets creative with using the lyrics and instrumentals to relay the feeling of a supposed high, particularly in the interlude section. The majority of the track keeps up a fast tempo, while the interlude slows it down for the delivery of the lines “Mellow, it’s so mellow.” The tempo speeds back up when Genaro screeches “It’s too mellow!” And of course, we can’t talk about this song without mentioning the nonsense, out-of-context lines being fed in between the usual lines. Things like “Living is easy with ice cubes,” “They’re my fingernails and I’m keeping ‘em,” and the classic “Mites are living in your eyelashes.” It almost feels like subliminal messaging, which helps with the hallucinogenic feel the band is going for with the track.
Up next is “The Guitar Song,” which leaves me with some seriously mixed feelings. Upon your first listen, you might think it’s just about playing the guitar. It almost feels deceptively simple, like there’s some other meaning to dig up that’s hiding under the guise of simplicity. Perhaps I’m digging way too deep into it, but what do you think of when you hear the lines “You say, what’s that sound, Coming out of the hole in the wood?” The song answers “It’s the guitar,” but I answer, well, something that isn’t exactly family friendly. It’s definitely up for interpretation, but unfortunately that’s the only thing keeping me hooked onto the song. It’s one of the slowest songs, powered mostly by an acoustic guitar, and the repetition of the question regarding holes in wood makes it a slog to listen to. I’d say skip this one, unless you feel like experiencing a mental crisis over the anguish of over interpreting a song that probably wasn’t intended to be looked at like that.
“Born to Love Volcanos” is the next track. This song is a commentary about the state of television, particularly about PBS. The channel is portrayed as one that begs for money to funnel into pointless programs that disguise themselves as being informative. There are other issues in the world that money could help with, but it’s all being hogged by people who probably don’t have any need for it, yet act like they do. My favorite lines are “Alistair Cooke is beggin’, Tonight on PBS, Maybe he needs my money more, Than a man without a home, He wants to make a documentary, On the footwear of Ancient Rome.” The instrumentals on the track have a nice melody to them, even incorporating strings during the chorus. It’s a fun listen that also informs about where you should consider throwing your money.
The track bleeds directly into “Everybody’s Got Nice Stuff But Me.” The song consists mostly of the narrator complaining about all of the things he doesn’t have. He expresses disgust toward the rich folks around him who can afford to get new stereos, TVs, and the like, yet that’s exactly who he wants to be. We’re not told how much income the narrator has, but we can conclude it’s not much, especially when he says “I want a stereo I want a TV,” implying he can’t afford either of those. He acts pretty entitled, doing a lot of wanting without any working for the cash he wants. I’d call it a statement on people who complain about drawing the short straw when it’s really their lack of work ethic getting in the way.
“I Against Osbourne” is up next. We get another taste of conspiracy theory satire here, told from the perspective of a man thinking he’s being targeted by the government for some kind of vague conspiracy. The fast tempo of the song adds to the paranoid feel, as well as the intensity of Gerano’s vocal delivery. He spouts nonsense that can’t be proven, like “You’re part of this giant plot, Please don’t tell me that you’re not,” and “Mr. Rogers works hand in hand with the KGB,” channeling every paranoid person you know. At first, I was caught off-guard by how many songs about conspiracies were on this record. Then I realized that it was made during the tail-end of the Cold War, where paranoia levels in the United States were at an all-time high.
“Howard Beware” follows the trend, though it stirs things up by being told from the perspective of a normal person. The narrator is harassing the titular Howard, who is already a paranoid character, by using his fears against him. Howard is “so easy to scare, You’ll hide from the shadows, And everybody knows.” At this point in the record, the subject of conspiracies is getting a little old, especially since it uses some cliche fear-mongering tactics for the time. Examples include “Howard beware the Russians they don’t like you, Might as well drop the bomb on you,” and “Howard beware the neighbors wanna kill you, Might just all form an angry mob.” This is another one to skip.
“Ringo Buys a Rifle” is a real trip of a song. From my interpretation, it seems to be about Ringo Starr finally standing up after being mistreated by his bandmates. Ringo had a rocky relationship with his bandmates, often getting pushed aside or ordered around like a session drummer. This song seems to be about that negative treatment getting to him, and him buying a rifle and going on a killing spree to get revenge. We even get a look into Ringo’s perspective with the line “Hey Paul, you asshole…Dub this!” Clearly, the narrator isn’t a huge fan of Paul McCartney or John Lennon, as they’re antagonized in the song as allegedly dubbing all of Ringo’s musical contributions with the lines “Paul was dubbing Ringo’s drumming, John was dubbing Ringo’s humming, People were starting to talk.” I wouldn’t be surprised if this was a jab at the “Paul Is Dead” theory, twisting it with the knowledge we have of Ringo’s mistreatment by the band.
Finally, we come to “Life Is Shit” to wrap up the record. This one is pretty self-explanatory, describing how jaded a pair of boys are with life, so they decide to get high off glue. The narrator hallucinates seeing President Nixon, Bob Crane, and Mr. Dickson, who all conclude that “Life is shit, The world is shit.” By the end of the song, the whole world is singing together, united by their mutual misery. The bluntness of those 3 titular words make the song pretty funny in the wake of the existential horror it might otherwise bring. We’re all similar in our dissatisfaction with life, so we might as well let it bring us together. The final few seconds of the track bring a reprise of the final lines of “Rc’s Mom,” serving as a nice conclusion to the album.
Overall, Beelzebubba is a hit-and-miss record, with mostly hits by an acceptable margin. My top 3 songs would easily be “Stuart,” “Sri Lanka Sex Hotel,” and “Smokin’ Banana Peels.” The bottom 3 to skip would be “My Many Smells,” “The Guitar Song,” and “Howard Beware.”
Rating: 8/10
Feature Photo by Becca Fauteux