Review: Who Shot Elvis? LP/CD (Matador)
By Andi Zeisler
San Francisco Weekly
Published on October 15, 1997
Mecca Normal don’t mess around with introductions. The opening sounds of “Medieval Man,” the first track on the Vancouver band’s ninth record, Who Shot Elvis?, come out with fangs fully bared. Over a low, sinister guitar line, vocalist Jean Smith growls, “If you know, if you know what a gun can do for you/ You know that the knee can produce a reaction in a jerk/ Who won’t shut up.” Another guitar, barely perceptible, shivers beneath Smith’s words, like an electric eel flickering under the ocean’s glassy surface.
Such is the uneasy listening of Mecca Normal, a duo that’ve never made music with the intention of being foot-tappingly accessible. And because there’s plenty of music out there serving as aural wall-paper, Mecca Normal have never needed to. Since the release of their first album on their own Smarten Up! label in 1986, the twosome of Smith and guitarist David Lester have been aligned with anarchist punk, spoken-word art, and Riot Grrrl politics, but their approach has never held strictly to any particular political or artistic ideology. Their 1995 record Sitting on Snaps was the sound of the pair evolving into a band, with New Zealand musician Peter Jefferies on drums. (Jefferies and Smith also collaborate in the band 2 Foot Flame.) Who Shot Elvis? finds even more folks entering the fold – Jefferies now sits in the producer’s chair, the drum seat is filled by Charlie Quintana, and supplementary guitar is provided by Duane Crone. Still, the sound is as spare as ever; the focus remains on Smith’s vocals and Lester’s feedback wrangling as they alternate in an endless game of follow-the-leader.
In some places, though, the lineup allows for a few moments that totally – dare say? – rock. “Excalibur” begins with Smith reading the riot act to a disappointingly wimpy consort, after which the drums and guitar kick in; it’s not exactly Bad Company, but the shake-your-ass adrenalin in the backbeat is almost terrifying. It fits oddly, yet perfectly, in with the rest of the stylistic gearshifting on Who Shot Elvis?, from the title track – a galloping, western-soundtrack paean to American history – to the singsongy “Step Into My Sphere,” to the mournful slide-guitar of “Don’t Heal Me Like a Dog Just to Break Me Like a Horse.” The unifying factors are Smith’s voice – full of both the doomsaying dourness of a medieval witch and the clarity of a true punk believer – and her lyrics, which convey multiple shades of menace in a single line.
On top of that, Smith’s funny. The final song on the disc, “In Canada,” finds her detailing the trials of a scorned lover over a somewhat generic series of folk chords; the poor guy rides through “the longest covered bridge in the world” to spy on his girl with another man. Smith parodies folk every which way: the romanticized loved, the lonesome journey, the physical hardships. But in the old days, the lover had an ally in the singer. Not anymore. When he finally finds her, all the cheating lass has to say is that he’s covered in pigeon shit. “That’s what happens,” Smith deadpans, “in the longest covered bridge in the world.” Mecca Normal aren’t letting anyone off easy.