Tuesday, November 24, 2009

[SONGS OF THE DECADE] #37 Mannequin Men - We Are Free

SONGS OF THE DECADE #37

[For more info, read the Ground Rules of The Song of The Decade List]

Mannequin Men- We Are Free (2007)




If the New Sincerity would ever let itself organize like the White Panthers (but that'd require meetings), Mannequin Men would be its MC5, and the line "we may be mannequin men/ but we can move/ we are free/ are you?" would hit the gut just as hard as the word "motherfucker" did 40 years ago. A free-thinking, unpretentious band that almost by definition aims low, Mannequin Men accidentally produced one of the decade's better lyrical onslaughts with 2007's Fresh Rot, and "We Are Free" was its punch-line.

Recognizing the flaws of scenesterism, fakery, and navel-gazing, Kevin Richards was able to look past all the fluff and look at the most important generational trend: considering the shit our parents did, why should we complain if we still get to make music at such a low cost? And if you have money, why aren't you making music?

More than any Radiohead song, "We Are Free" defined the "it's up to you" spirit that, for whatever reason, the generation of Americans under the age of 30 was handed from the start. Even as that freedom has proven more fleeting "We Are Free" provides a rope to keep you from the depths. It does to rock what "Young Folks" did to pop, and then some. That's something to be thankful for.

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Tuesday, October 06, 2009

[SONGS OF THE DECADE] #86 Mannequin Men - Massage

SONGS OF THE DECADE #87

[For more info, read the Ground Rules of The Song of The Decade List]

Mannequin Men - Massage (2009)


Mannequin Men are my favorite new band this decade, perhaps because they're one of the only group of guys I'd want to hang out with whether or not music was involved. For a band that has garnered (and earned) comparisons to the Replacements, "Massage" sounds a lot more like This Year's Model-era Elvis Costello filtered through 30 years of sexual, cultural, and musical frustrations that have repeated themselves again and again and again. On "Massage," Kevin Richards  sings about how his masseuse ex-girlfriend turned out to be a liar, a manipulator, and a mooch. And thus, we have the age-old rock "she took my money" motif that also rips on the fake, manipulative fevered egoes of bullshit fakers that have seeped into to coolest girl at the cool kids' party. This kind of garage punk snottiness was once reserved for other-wordly fake celebrities. "Massage" applies it to the Mannequin Men's peers. And off of this is wrapped into Mannequin Men's best pop track, with guitar hooks a plenty, a singalong chorus which you shouldn't really be singing along to, and New York Dolls-esque fadeout that pretty much closes the book on a song about unabashed hipster decadence. Mannequin Men are a band who couldn't be fake if they tried; it's only fitting that their most(relatively) popular track would tackle contemporary cultural demons head-on.

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