The Jack Bennies – “Choppin’ Down The Weeds”
If you’re young you probably don’t know who the hell Jack Benny was.
He was a droll comedian, a contemporary of Bob Hope.
And if you say- who, again? Then forget it.
But this is a band called The Jack Bennies, like- you don’t know jack shit if you don’t know bennies means speed, short for the drug benzedrine. Which is what Jack Kerouac, a contemporary of Bob Hope, popped while he was writing “On The Road” for Willie Nelson, part of the country music beatnik generation that included “Cowboy” Bill Burroughs and rodeo star Allen Ginsberg.
But with all this misinformation, what must be registered is- The Jack Bennies are a Brooklyn, New York pop/punk/garage band who deem to change life as we know it, ban pooper scoopers so dogs can go shit freely in the streets and put LSD into the water system so that when, what unfolds in the next four years, however vile and repugnant- we’ll be able to say, “Oh my, that surely is a strange hallucination. Thank God that’s not really happening.”
But The Jack Bennies are happening and they are vital, they are pure energy- they are real and they are fun. I think they’re great and I would beseech you to check them out. And I hope (Bob) you’ll agree.
I feel their music puts an explosive device up our collective musical ass that soon explodes, blasting every hemorrhoid to bliss and smithereens in nirvana.
Let us pray that every blasted hemorrhoid’s soul is reincarnated as we listen to The Jack Bennies most blessed, blasted musical display:
“I got what you want, girl/ I got what you want, baby,” are the words that start off “What You Want,” blasting with rockin’ garage rhythms, in your face lead vocals and emphatic backup ones that are shouting at you like they’re looking for a fight. “But you better not mess with me.” A flurry of a psychedelic guitar lick flies above the energy and aggression as the emotion and guts and power, flies out of the speakers, like a rocketship exploding into the moon. I don’t know what you want but I know what I want, more songs that are as perfect as this.
After a crunching, guitar intro, “Hard Ache” surges forward like a great, Angry Samoans song. “I gotta get right today/ I gotta get a new start.” Then it switches to a Dictators/ Dead Boys plea for redemption. The energy of the rhythm section punches and pulls like an escaped suicidal maniac on a killer spree. That is, until a great Chuck Berry/ Johnny Thunders like solo barges in. Another high voltage, high energy, electrifyin’ winner.
“Sweet Sally” starts with a sweet guitar intro sounding like the beginning of a long, lost Mott The Hoople song. After a gigantic “wooh” and four drum hits- the able singer, Brian, emotes like Jim Carroll while the rhythm section slashes and wallops like The Rolling Stones. This song is gritty, passionate, sloppy, fun rock’n’roll that “on the streets tonight, of a New York night,” or any other night or place for that matter, is one mighty, great tune.
“The Last Town” has a velocity that moves toward hardcore, feedback guitar that recalls The Velvets, and rhythms that somehow, don’t complete themselves but add up to one truly great, passionate, powerful song.
“Polythene Pam” is a cover of a Beatles song off of Abbey Road. I heard this version, several times, before realizing that it was a cover of this song. I think it’s great that they took a great song and took it to some other place. This version takes the originals rock’n’roll energy and turns it into a glam/punk/hardcore version. This is a very good version of a very good Beatles song, and the fact that I, at first, couldn’t tell the difference- I think, says a lot.
Listening to The Jack Bennies reminds me of listening to The Dictators for the first time. That distinct style of wise-ass, East Coast humor, that city swagger- of busting balls!
Listening to The Jack Bennies reminds me of listening to the garage rock/punk bands at The Rat in the eighties. And those songs- which were an energetic, beer fueled (and other substances) wild ride of passion and joy, mingled with danger and destruction (life) is reconstructed here.
Listening to The Jack Bennies reminds me that music can shoot a lightening bolt of energy into your bones that makes the drab bleakness of life, glimmer like gold for a few moments- a makes you remember that those moments are what you live for.
I know it seems like my second grade teacher, Miss Julie, just made me write a hundred times on the black board, “Listening to The Jack Bennies…” But if she did, she’d probably make me end it with, “will be the ruin of my life.”
But life has already ruined me and I forgive it, just don’t make your life worse by missing out on this great punk band.
I’m only hoping to piss her off, more so, so that she gets out the rattan, the stick, and hits me on the ass- much like the music on this album does.
So hard, so very hard.
(Slimedog)
