Welcome back to Left of The Dial! This week, we’re returning to the Butch Walker Cinematic Universe with Ready Sex Go by Marvelous 3. If you need a quick crash course on Butch Walker and his musical journey, check out my review of his album American Love Story. Marvelous 3 was Walker’s second big musical project, after SouthGang and before his solo career as an artist/producer. Marvelous 3 was a pop-punk band consisting of Walker on vocals and guitar, Jayce Fincher on bass, and Doug “Slug” Mitchell on drums. Ready Sex Go was the band’s third and final album, released in September 2000 (darn, just missed the 20th anniversary by over a week!). We’ve heard Walker’s recent work with the previously mentioned American Love Story, but what was his early material like? Let’s give this record a spin and find out!
Side A
Side A contains “Little Head,” “Grant Park,” “Get Over,” “Sugarbuzz,” “Supernatural Blonde, “Radio Tokyo,” and “Cold as Hell.”
“Little Head” sets the stage for the cheesy pop-punk goodness that we’re about to dive into. It expresses the heartbreak of the narrator when his girlfriend dumps him, and how he can’t stop obsessing over her despite her awful treatment towards him. It has an amateur perspective on love that gives it some personality, and the composition is appropriately simplistic and loud to match. Really thinking about it, it reminds me of early Green Day (specifically pre-Dookie) and their collection of cheesy love songs, though with way better production quality. This was the material that got me fantasizing about Walker collaborating with the band someday, which of course would come to pass with 2020’s Father of All… record, so seeing the similarities this early in Walker’s career is super interesting.
Getting back on track, “Little Head” bleeds right into “Grant Park” with some subtle synths. This tells a darker story about love gone sour and an ensuing affair that leads to suicide. Interestingly enough, the initial split is a result of the boy and girl both realizing they’re both gay. The boy, Jed, straight up tells her that he “doesn’t dig girls anymore,” and she would later be caught in bed with another woman. Sure, society as a whole may not bat an eye at this today, but remember that this song came out in 2000, when the LGBT community was still struggling for respect and rights in the U.S. Back then, this was ahead of its time for its representation. Returning to the song itself, it adopts a dark and heavy tone with the drums and guitar riffs. Even Walker’s vocals are delivered with more snarl than in “Little Head.” Overall, “Grant Park” shows that the band can handle serious subject matter with absolute gusto.
The song bleeds into “Get Over,” which lightens things up a little. It’s yet another breakup song where the narrator can’t get over his ex, but the twist comes with his insistence that she isn’t allowed to get over him either. His feelings about the breakup are super selfish, adding the trash-talking he indulges in of the “beefcake guys” she rebounds with and insisting to himself that she has to realize they’re no good and that she needs to be with a nice guy like him. The narrator’s behavior is laughably pathetic, and the lyrics are laced with some self-aware winks to the listener to indicate that it’s all in good fun and that they don’t condone this attitude. Though the general subject is certainly outstaying its welcome, the clever lyrics and energetic instrumentals make up for it.
The next song is “Sugarbuzz,” the anthem for youthful rebelliousness. It’s refreshing encountering a song that isn’t about breakups for once, and the theme of teen attitude keeps it in line with the tone of the album. This is a good time to emphasize Walker’s writing because I’m drawn to its casual style. It’s a little hard to explain, but it reads well on its own without musical accompaniment, as if he wrote a short story and sung it instead of reading it aloud. This style has carried through in his writing to this day, even being brought front and center on his 2020 album American Love Story. Anyways, the writing shines through as the highlight of “Sugarbuzz.” Overall, it’s a refreshingly snotty track with some stellar writing and energy to spare.
Up next is “Supernatural Blonde.” This track shamelessly indulges in sexual fantasies about the titular blonde (see what I did there?). She’s not a real person per se, she’s a fantasy dreamed up by the narrator, who’s now realizing that he doesn’t need to spend his money on strippers when he can just use his imagination at no charge. It’s also implied he has a girlfriend, which raises some worrying questions about his feelings for her, or rather the lack of feelings for her. Though perhaps I’m looking into it too deeply, as the writing is fairly tongue-in-cheek about the matter. It reminds me of Eve 6’s “Nightmare” in that way, which is a high compliment in my book.
“Radio Tokyo” is the next track. The piano-led opening alerts you to the fact that this is a break from the tone of the album up to this point. I always saw this song as a metaphor for the music industry and the way they churn out cookie-cutter artists at the cost of their individuality. It could also be interpreted as an allegory for the band-label relationship and how quickly it can turn toxic, which hits way closer to home for Marvelous 3. They had a lot of problems with their label, Elektra, finding that they weren’t getting the support they needed. The band would break off from Elektra after this album’s release and subsequent commercial failure, and the band itself dissolved shortly after. Back to the song, these feelings of neglect and abandonment ring strong in the composition and especially in Walker’s vocals, which show a lot of range. In short, it’s an impressive outlier on the album that absolutely gets my seal of approval.
To cap off Side A, we have “Cold as Hell.” It’s a lighthearted and sarcastic take on a couple that totally shouldn’t be together. The narrator is cold and sarcastic, while his girlfriend is a nag who can’t resist trying to change him to fit her standards. He compares being with her to being in Hell and makes trying to be civil with her out to be a chore. It’s probably fair to say we all know a couple who’s like this and then wondered what exactly was keeping them together. “Cold as Hell” suggests in the chorus that the relationship is a long-term waiting game, waiting to “see if the temperature changes” and killing that time by “try[ing] on a few more faces, for you.” It’s an internal struggle to both love and kill each other, and that can be really interesting to watch from the outside. I’m glad the band provided this inside look; it gives the listener some food for thought, and it leaves them hungry to begin Side B. So without further ado, let’s flip the record!
Side B
Side B contains “Beautiful,” “I’m Losing You,” “This Time,” “Better Off Alone,” “I Could Change,” and “Cigarette lighter Love Song.”
“Beautiful” is a sweet little track about admiring a girl for who she is, especially since her boyfriend doesn’t appreciate her. Like “Get Over,” it’s one of those songs where the narrator is admiring the girl from afar, though in this case the situation is taken more seriously. Her man takes small jabs at her appearance and gawks at other chicks when she isn’t looking, and the narrator reassures her that the guy’s being a prick and that she should be with someone who loves her for her (aka the narrator). The message is sweet and empowering, but I do roll my eyes a bit at the whole “why can’t she be with a nice guy like me” attitude. Taken with a pinch of salt, it’s a delightful way to start Side B.
“I’m Losing You” is the next track, and man is it the black sheep of the record. This is made clear from the start of the first verse. Walker’s vocals are almost whispered and possess a groovy flow that adds to the mysterious vibe. The instrumentals are driven by the percussion and given a noir feel with some added synths. The lyrics spin a tragic tale of a party-animal cheer captain who’s regularly ditched by her quarterback boyfriend and ends up being sexually assaulted by the rest of the football team. It’s a horrifying tale to be sure, which deserves to be treated with the most tender care, which is accounted for in spades with this track. It relays the painful feelings and trauma that arise from sexual assault, and it’s sure to portray the football team as the faceless monsters they are. It’s a brilliant work of writing and composition from the band’s end, though this could be a double-edged sword for listeners who are also survivors of sexual assault. I’d advise you to skip the track if you feel the material I described could be a trigger for you. Otherwise, it’s top-notch material for the record.
The next song is “This Time,” which returns us to the comfortable formula of post-breakup regrets. The story was a bit harder to make out, so bear with me. The narrator seems to have been single for only a week, and he’s already begging to get back with his ex by any means necessary. This ranges from sexual fantasies to outright lying to her to impress her. Clearly this man is all kinds of messed up in the head, and the lyrics state this in a tongue-in-cheek way. Unfortunately, this track is forgettable in comparison to its peers. Other than its story to some extent, it’s derivative and a little dull. It’s low on the tier list compared to the others, but it’s impressive that it’s taken this long to find a relative dud.
“Better Off Alone” is the anthem for the folks that fail miserably at love, aka me. It reads like an anthology, telling multiple people’s stories. There’s one where a guy finds that his crush knows how to get around town (if you catch my drift) and that he’s just a needle in the haystack of lovers she’s had. Another is a girl who’s lazily committed to a man who doesn’t give a damn about her. I appreciate the brisk pace of the vocal delivery, with Walker basically rapping the lyrics. It’s not Max Collins or Alex Turner levels of skill, but it’s serviceable, so I’ll give it a pass. The painful relatability of the subject also gives it a pass from me.
“I Could Change” is up next, and it presents an interesting perspective on change. Sure, you could change, but the world wouldn’t really change in turn. The narrator here is stuck in a loop of trying to change himself, but he tends to cave in and resort to his old ways from the futility he feels trying to take on the world. I’d like to present my own view on change in response to the band’s: the world doesn’t change when you do, your view of the world and your subsequent reaction to it changes. It’s ridiculous to hold yourself to a standard of completely transforming yourself or having this huge impact on the world. If you just focus on baby steps and commit to small, manageable changes, that’s the key to instilling permanent change. As you can clearly tell, this song gave me plenty of food for thought, so it gets an A for effort.
Finally, we have “Cigarette Lighter Love Song,” the power ballad to end all power ballads. It’s sappy and derivative as can be, but damn do I love it. As you’d expect, it tells a story of a relationship in a rough patch, all told in the classic Walker style I love. I say it’s derivative because the chorus is basically stolen from the David Bowie-penned “All the Young Dudes.” ‘Stolen’ is a little harsh though, as Bowie was properly credited on the song as a writer, and the lyrics were altered to fit the band’s story. Otherwise, the composition and vocal delivery are nearly identical to Bowie’s song, though it comes off more like a loving homage than an outright rip-off. Perhaps I’m biased though, because I wasn’t aware of “All the Young Dudes” until maybe a year ago (blasphemous, I know), and have been listening to “Cigarette Lighter Love Song” for most of my life. Anyways, the nostalgia bomb paired with my unabashed love for cheesy love songs makes this the perfect sendoff to a stellar record!
…but wait, we’re not done yet! What do we have here but a bonus track! We’re first treated to 4 minutes of album credits, which include a few joke credits to keep things interesting. I dare you to listen to it and pick out the fakes, no Googling allowed! Once that wraps up, we’re treated to the real bonus track: a remix of “I’m Losing You.” It embraces an electronic-rock approach to the instrumentals, using an electric drum and additional synths. While I still prefer the album cut of the track, I appreciate this alternate take on it. Now we’re done with the record; no more bait-and-switches.
Ready Sex Go is a lot of fun, though it sometimes falls into the generic tropes of 2000’s pop-punk. My top three tracks are “Radio Tokyo,” “I’m Losing You,” and “Cigarette Lighter Love Song.” There’s only one bottom-tier track, which is “This Time.”
Rating: 8.5/10
Feature Photo by Becca Fauteux