Previous Diagnoses: Paradise Lost

Hello music enthusiast, and welcome to the second edition of Dr.Gonzo’s ‘Diagnosis Series’ – where I go through a band or artist’s studio recordings and find their strengths and weaknesses. Today we’ll be looking at the eccentric El Sobrante trio, Primus, delving into their weird and wonderful world filled with renditions of old children’s stories, big brown beavers, race car drivers, and fishermen. So grab a cold one and prepare to sail the sea of cheese.

Band/Artist: Primus

Origins: El Sobrante, California, U.S.

Founded: 1984

Current Members:
Les Claypool (vocals, bass)

Larry “Ler” LaLonde (guitars)

Tim “Herb” Alexander (drums)

Previous members:

Todd Huth (guitars)

Vince “Perm” Parker (drums)

Peter Libby (drums)

Robbie Bean (drums)

Tim “Curveball” Wright (drums)

Jay Lane (drums)

Brain (drums)

Buckethead (guitars)

Danny Carey (drums)

DJ Disk (turntables)

Studio albums: 9

Active: Yes

Frizzle Fry (1990)

The Doctor’s rating: 5/5

Analysis: Primus are one of those rare cases where an act will walk right out of the gates with their sound, ready and willing to discharge it onto the placid masses. Unlike Paradise Lost who spent decades honing their craft, Primus busted out Frizzle Fry and unleashed a sound so idiosyncratic, it’s eccentricities would blindside an entire generation with an extravaganza of obscurity and accessibility – leaning more on the former than the latter. It’s hard to fault anything on Frizzle Fry, it’s a perfect album filled with awe-inspiring musicianship, wincingly colourful songwriting, odd time-signatures, and the iconic yokel-twanked vocal work from the enigma, Les Claypool – a dude with such charisma, he might as well be a living, breathing cartoon character. Indeed, as we will see with future releases, the band still touch on new creative highs, but the benchmark is fortified here. The rhythmic stomp on “Too Many Puppies”, the iconic “John the Fisherman” with the guitar’s spasming dissonance and Les’ sashaying bassline, right through to the borderline theatrical creepiness of “The Toys Go Winding Down”; every track stands the test of time and to this day, is unmatched stylistically.      

Prescription: Fizzle Fry is iconic – a record brimming with jaw-dropping musicianship, bizarre melodies and compositional choices, and is all-round engaging from start to finish. Listen to it four-to-five times a day for a week to start with, preferably with a cold beverage, then listen to it as necessary.

Sailing the Sea of Cheese (1991)

The Doctor’s rating: 4.5/5

Analysis: Most of the older readers here will have heard of Primus or got into them because of one song on this album: “Jerry Was a Race Car Driver”. Like me, I got my introduction to the band through Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater on the Playstation One. The song is an obvious fan-favourite within the Primus community, primarily for its trampoline-springing bassline and haunting guitar effects at the verse, segueing into that pummelling metal-styled breakdown for the chorus before simmering down to the Bill Mosely “dog will hunt” sample from The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2. It’s one of, if not the biggest songs in Primus’ portfolio outside of maybe South Park’s theme tune. The thing is, the rest of the album still manages to maintain its high-quality, carrying over all of the scintillating songwriting and cartoonish charm – dare I say doubling down on the Zappa-esque theatrics and weirdness, with songs like “Is it Luck?” and “Sgt. Baker” displaying the album’s more obtuse sensibilities, just because of how repetitious they are in nature. However, this is equalised with “Tommy the Cat” and “Those Damned Blue-Collar Tweakers” which really hammer home just how good Primus are (or “suck”). It’s not as ruthlessly perfect as Frizzle Fry, but it’s still a barnstorming sophomore album that demands your attention.

Prescription: Filled with some of the band’s greatest songs. Sailing the Sea of Cheese isn’t as impeccably crafted as the debut, but it’s hard to deny this sophomore is an incredible success. Listen to it four-to-five times a day for a week to start with, preferably with a cold beverage, then listen to it as necessary.

 Pork Soda (1993)

The Doctor’s rating: 4.5/5

Analysis: It’s evident, based on the quality of Pork Soda, the dreaded third album curse wasn’t an issue for Primus, who sail through the sea of cheese and delivered another ridiculously charismatic collection of tracks that feel like fucked up nursery rhymes. Though I regard Sailing the Sea of Cheese to be as good as this, if I had to pick between the two albums, this one would just about win the fight. It’s still not as refined as Frizzle Fry but there are iconic tracks on here in abundance. “My Name is Mud” with its hypnotic rhythm section, “DMV”, which feels like a spiritual successor to “Jerry Was a Race Car Driver”, and the menacing “Mr Krinkle” display a band working unwaveringly on all cylinders. Pork Soda is more subdued when  compared to their previous two albums and feels far less immediate, but its aversion to accessibility gives you a lot back if you put in the legwork to fully appreciate everything it has to offer. The overall tone of the album feels much darker when compared to previous entries, thanks in part to Les introducing the double bass, but that ominous cloud works in their favour and looms over even the goofiest tracks – making them stand apart from what has already been trodden on in the past and extending their horizons.

Prescription: Like the last two albums, this does everything right. Primus pushes the band’s formula by introducing a plethora of new and interesting instruments that help them explore new facets to their signature sound. The darker tone also works in their favour and creates this off-kilter nursery rhyme vibe. Listen to it four-to-five times a day for a week to start with, preferably with a cold beverage, then listen to it as necessary.

Tales from the Punchbowl (1995)

The Doctor’s rating: 3.5/5

Analysis: To be clear; Tales from the Punchbowl is still a good album, but the drop off in quality is significant when compared to the classic three records the band pulled out in quick succession. From a visual standpoint there is something immediately off, as the band opt out of the iconic clay models that adorned previous album covers in favour of… spoons with faces? In regards to the music itself, the album certainly sets off strong, firing out a load of the usual catchy-but-technical numbers, but by the time “Year of the Parrot” rolls in, things start to lose their potency – a little tepid and flavourless in comparison to what we’ve heard in the past. This would also be the last album Tim “Herb” Alexander would play on until 2014’s Primus and the Chocolate Factory with the Fungi Ensemble.

Prescription: Primus’ fourth album is still a worthy entry, but a creative stalemate was beginning to manifest. It’s still got some excellent moments, but it’s not a patch on previous entries. Check it once and see how you get on.

Brown Album (1997)

Doctor’s rating: 3/5

Analysis: While I do feel Brown Album is somewhat unfairly viewed upon, it’s hard to defend its renowned criticisms and glaring shortcomings. The band have never been shy writing near hour-long records in the past, but here that allotted time metastasises into something pernicious when you look at the whole thing. The difference between this and Pork Soda – which is the band’s longest album thus far by a hair next to this – is the quality of songwriting. Brown Album does everything it’s supposed to in terms of what makes up a Primus record, but it lacks the same hypnotic, cartoonish magic: grooves feel blunt and bland, melodies are tenuous, and the overall guitar work and songwriting feels very conventional by Primus standards. I’ve mentioned a couple times how their earlier albums exhume vibrancy and colour, but here the album feels opaque and rudimentary. The irony of the album being called brown is not lost on me either, but it’s a shame to see the dip all the same. There are some decent moments to be had on here but unfortunately, it’s marred with being overly longwinded and lacking in the high-quality distinction we’ve come to expect from their previous works.      

Prescription: Brown Album is fine. I wouldn’t go out of my way to recommend it to first-time listeners, but for completists this album is worth looking at if you’re curious. Give it a spin once and see how you get on.

Antipop (1999)

Doctor’s rating: 2.7/5

Analysis: Antipop is a lateral move for the band; they double down and disregard the editing, making this the longest album in their career at just over 1 hour! If this was Primus at the start of the decade, they’d have pulled it off, but it’s not. This is turn-of-the-century Primus, one that has lost all sense of adventure and direction. Antipop is another inconsequential entry in the band’s discography – inoffensive and muggy. Songs like “Lacquer Head”, “Antipop” and “Mama Didn’t Raise No Fool” are highlights here, but everything else is wishy-washy and forgettable. Couple that with the album’s egregious length – to the point of being laughable – and it’s an album hard to recommend to people.

Prescription: A tepid entry for sure. There’s nothing on here that genuinely pops out as being a career-highlight; it’s by-the-numbers autopilot writing that doesn’t know when to quit. I suggest using your time more productively, like getting some exercise, but if you’re that curious jam once and see how you get on.

Green Naugahyde (2011)

Doctor’s rating: 4.5/5

Analysis: As we shall see shortly, Green Naugahyde appears to be a creative anomaly for the band. An auspiciously fortuitous entry that hit all the necessary marks upon the band’s return. Green Naugahyde still lacks that feral, happy-go-lucky quality from yore, but there’s a mature outlook present in the songwriting, and Les’ new approach to vocals adds a fresh dynamic to the band’s staple sound. Unlike the last two attempts, there’s much more character found within this album’s tracks. “Lee Van Cleef”, “Tragedy’s A’ Comin’”, “Jilly’s on Smack” and “Eternal Consumption Engine” are just a few songs that have solid writing, great hooks, and a consistent vibe. As a bass player, Les is much more reserved and puts a concerted effort into catering his playing to the whims of the song. He also uses what sounds like an envelope filter effect for a large portion of the album and that gives it its consistency, tonally. In short, Green Naugahyde is an excellent return to form that feels far more methodical and pragmatic over other albums in their discography, the results being very worthwhile.

Prescription: A more mature Primus, but a Primus I can get onboard with. It’s a shame then that we don’t get to see what could have been because of Les opting to record gimmicky albums in the future, as we shall see soon. Next to the classic three, Green Naugahyde is the best album the band has done in 18 years. Spin two-to-three times a day for a week to start with, then listen to it as necessary.

Primus and the Chocolate Factory with the Fungi Ensemble (2014)

Doctor’s rating: 3/5

Analysis: Welcome to modern day Primus – a band hellbent on releasing very little recorded output and what crumbs fans do get, they’re subjected to quaint gimmicks. Chocolate Factory… sees the return of the much-missed Herb on the drums, but unfortunately for us, he is confined to the conceptual limitations of the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory story. Essentially, this album is a rendition of the classic film’s soundtrack – which I’ll be honest is well-handled here, bringing with it that eccentric Primus sensation to the original soundtrack’s compositions. The issue here is that there isn’t a great deal to grab onto outside of the initially wholesome concepts. It’s refrained; and while enjoyable to listen to a couple times, it wears out its welcome a short while after.

Prescription: At the time, this was a fun little idea, but had I known back then that this would be the mindset going forward, I might have looked at this differently at the time. It’s a decent concept, and there’s a lot of fidelity for the source material, but with that brings a time limit on how many times you can subject yourself to this record. Give it a spin once and see how you get on.

The Desaturating Seven (2017)

Doctor’s rating: 2.5/5

Analysis: Extending their hands further with vapid gimmicks and recreating children’s stories, Primus decides to bring out a sonic rendition of the children’s book The Rainbow Goblins. Like the issues pertaining to their last record, they are exacerbated here because of the elemental presentation and the fact there’s even less meat on the bone compositionally. Clocking in at 34 minutes and telling very little in that time, it’s a stark contrast to their glory days. Les’ vocals, like Chocolate Factory…, have regressed to these weird reverb-y drawls, and ultimately there’s just not much here in the way of Primus delivering a fully fleshed out album, let alone a Primus album.

Prescription: A very forgettable album and the last LP to come from the band, which is a travesty, frankly. I suggest using your time more productively, like reading a book, but if you’re that curious, jam once and see how you get on.     

Doctor’s Notes:

Like I opined in the introduction to Frizzle Fry, Primus is a classic case of a band burning brightly at their inception, but with that comes the risk of slowly fading out. The first three albums are seminal classics that challenged the conventional norms in rock music at the time. The fact they found mainstream success is a miracle, considering how strange they could be, but it’s testament to how they served this sound to people. Unfortunately, after Pork Soda, it’s apparent the creative well started drying up. Anything post-Pork Soda isn’t bad, but the drop off is significant and most of their work thereafter is forgettable at best – consumed by the deep, dark shadows of their revered accomplishments. Green Naugahyde was an excellent return for the band, but they failed to capitalise on that momentum, opting instead to release cute children’s tales with a creepy Primus lens on it. Cynically, one could theorise Les Claypool doesn’t have anything else to bring to the band and that’s why he resorted to those children’s stories. This theory is bolstered by their recent EP of original tunes, Conspiranoid, being unfettered garbage.

Strengths:

• An inimitable sound where nothing has sounded like Primus before or since.
• Incredible musicianship that subverted a lot of the conventional norms of the time: from Les’ signature slap style to Larry’s peculiar approach to guitar playing.
• An impressive use of exotic instruments that added interesting layers of idiosyncrasies to the soundscapes.

Weaknesses: 

• Album lengths are at a minimum of nearly 50 minutes, making for a lot of pacing issues with their records.
• After the classic three albums, most of their music feels diluted or lacking in identity.

Diagnosis: Their influence and idiosyncratic appeal make Primus a valued band to be remembered. However, with the exception of Green Naugahyde and maybe some of Tales from the Punchbowl – and the fact the band have been incapable of making a traditional album since 2011– the Primus brand does have some reputational damage these days. Despite all of that though, their earlier work is well worth checking out.