Warren Zevon: Excitable Boy

I was inspired to review today’s album after seeing an away message paraphrasing the title track of Warren Zevon’s third album (his first album, Wanted Dead Or Alive, was released in 1969, while his second, self-titled album was released seven years later; Zevon fans, if any, only had to wait two years for Excitable Boy to follow). I had wanted to do a Zevon album for quite some time, but had only thought about The Wind, a thoroughly depressing album considering it was the last one to be written, recorded, and released in Zevon’s lifetime, after he became aware that he was dying. Because I’m in a good state of mind right now, I pushed that thought away and decided I would revisit it later; never at any point did it even cross my mind to review Excitable Boy. So, thanks Steph!

Years ago, I would look through my dad’s record collection, and frequently came across this album and its follow-up, Bad Luck Streak In Dancing School. I was intrigued by a lot of aspects, even without listening to the albums: first of all, Zevon is a strange surname, so that had it going for me; secondly, a lot of the titles were unconventional, at least based on what I was familiar with. But I was never compelled to dig any further, mostly because I didn’t have a record player, and I had little, if any, cash that I wanted to dump on someone I wasn’t familiar with. (Apparently the thought of asking my dad his opinion of Zevon never came to me.) Not too long after, my mom got a CD of Zevon’s, his retrospective compilation A Quiet Normal Life, so I should have had more access to his music, but it wasn’t until 2003 that I really began listening to him; of course, by that point his health was terminal, but it was the documentary that VH1 ran continuously that really got me interested. I went out and bought The Wind, and played it endlessly. Then, in the oft-mentioned Hard Drive Music Library Switch of 2006, I suddenly had another Zevon album – this one – in my collection.

Now, I don’t like the Eagles or Fleetwood Mac, and I’m not much a fan of Jackson Browne. I think it’s that slick Hollywood sound that really turns me off, and considering Browne – a good friend of Zevon’s, and also the main reason that he had a career in the first place – produced this album, you would think I wouldn’t like Zevon either. Ahh, that’s where you’re wrong: the songwriting is strong enough to combat the production, with enough sardonic wit and sarcastic bile to set them aside from Zevon’s contemporaries. Not all of the songs are winners, though: ‘Johnny Strikes Up The Band’, set to a vaguely country-westernish backing, doesn’t tell much of a story except for the fact that this Johnny fellow is striking up the band. ‘Roland The Headless Thompson Gunner’, however, explores the darker side of life, and also Zevon’s fascination with the macabre; set to a midtempo piano-dominated stroll, the song was written with David Lindell, a mercenary-turned-bartender in Spain who told Zevon his days working in Africa. It’s a fascinating tale, one of the few “based upon real events” type of songs that isn’t just another attempt by a tortured musician to disguise the realities of his own personal life.

While David Byrne had written an ode to a psycho killer and laced it with nonsensical French verses and questions, Zevon came up with his own ode in the title track, examining a sadistic rapist and killer with a wink-and-a-nod attitude and something of a boyish grin to the eccentricities. Amazing how Zevon can balance the humorous (“Well he went down to dinner in his Sunday best … He rubbed the pot roast all over his chest”) with the terrifying (“He took little Suzy to the junior prom … And he raped her and killed her and took her on home”). The recording embodies all that the L.A. music scene had to offer: a throaty saxophone solo, rollicking piano, and sweet “ooh-wah-ooh” backing vocals from Linda Ronstadt. The bonhomie continues with ‘Werewolves Of London’, by far the best-known song from the album and probably in Zevon’s entire career, and one that continues to be dissected and analyzed for no good reason: its lyric matter is inconsequential, and I defy anyone to listen to this and not enjoy the infectious rhythm or howl along gleefully with each “Awooo!” The humorous and lighthearted mood is taken down a few notches with ‘Accidentally Like A Martyr’, a heartbreaking paean to a dissolving relationship; the backing vocals can be a bit much at times, but the instrumental backing and the lyrics are solid, and Zevon’s own vocal performance, where he occasionally strains out of his range, is poignant and beautiful. I’d still like to know what the title itself means, but it’s intriguing nonetheless.

The inconsequential ‘Nighttime In The Switching Yard’ funks up the mood a bit, as if Zevon is putting back on his macabre façade after the emotionally revealing ‘Accidentally’, and while it really does groove, it’s nothing more than filler. ‘Veracruz’ is another emotional ballad, this time deep rooted in historical fiction, of the withdrawal of troops from a war-torn country. Much like Talking Heads’ ‘Psycho Killer’, there’s a foreign language interlude, though this one (sung in Spanish by Zevon’s longtime collaborator Jorgé Calderon, who also cowrote the song) is a little more meaningful. ‘Tenderness On The Block’ was written with Jackson Browne, and is a tender (!) bit of advice from a concerned father to his naïve daughter, while album closer ‘Lawyers, Guns & Money’ is a more boorish take on a youth living it up in Cuba who gets into a lot of trouble, ultimately pleading for his dad’s help in getting him out of the country alive. I, however, will forever associate it with a scene from Boston Legal, where the newly-married-for-the-umpteenth-time lawyer extraordinaire Denny Crane (played by William Shatner) is found in a compromising situation with a coat check girl at the reception of his wedding. I can find no better way to end this review than on that note.

Essential listening: Roland The Headless Thompson Gunner, Excitable Boy, Werewolves Of London, Accidentally Like A Martyr, Tenderness On The Block, Lawyers Guns & Money