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Released on September 1, 2015 via Art As Catharsis Records
Facemeat are a jazz-rock combo from Sydney led by the inimitable David Sattout. You know about jazz-rock don’t you? It was that thing we all did before math-rock became popular with the kids. You probably won’t have heard of Facemeat, but you should, as Questions For Men is a brilliant début record, in fact, it’s probably one of the best things I’ve heard all year. Indeed, I’d go as far as to say Record Of The Year, or at least a very strong contender for that dubious honour.
It’s a twisted, unsettling, tour-de-force that certainly deserves to break out from Australian shores to get some world-wide acclaim. Yes, there is a big Zappa/Zoyd influence but the 13 tracks on this record are as fresh and original sounding as anything. It’s a record that makes you excited, that shakes you by the shoulders, that slaps you on the mush and shouts: ”WAKE UP! THERE’S AN AUSSIE JAZZ-ROCK COMBO FALLING OUT OF YOUR SPEAKERS” – The pills nurse! The pills! I must have my pills!
You’ll want evidence of course, fussy discerning reader, evidence that this band has got the chops to make it into your record collection. Here we go then.
The record starts off with ‘Compliments To Your Band’, a sordid tale (actually, all the songs this album are fairly sordid), of an obsessive fan who is as much interested in the singer’s girlfriend, as he is in the band he’s come to see. It’s a track that sets out, that defines, exactly what kind of band Facemeat are, and what you can expect of them – playful, rude, irreverent but backed up by a highly imaginative wall of sound. From the kick-off whistle a solid brass section (Ruth Wells, Ellen Kirkwood) erupts and drives the song forward out of a squelchy feedback intro. They’ve clearly been given orders to blast anything that moves, which they follow to the letter. Adam Moses’ deep-soul baritone croons over the top of this maelstrom, while any gaps are punctuated by David Stattout’s angular guitar breaks.
There’s no let up as the band tumble into ‘My Wife and Children’, and on into the rich disco-funk of ‘Dude Disco’, which is as funky as anything your man Nile Rodgers currently has in his pockets at this given moment in time. To me, the opening salvos of ‘Questions For Men’ recalled the exhilarating first half of Zappa’s Sheik Yerbouti – particularly on tracks like ‘Your Special Day’, which recall Zappa-esque harmonies and vaudeville sleaze.
Sattout’s song-writing ability is terrific, in composing an album which is in all probability, the frustrated scream of suburban man, he has drawn on all the uncertainties of Twenty-First century masculinity and given them a voice. He also seems to have pulled off that most difficult of balancing acts of drawing on classic song-composition and fitting it (shoehorning it) into an avant-garde jazz-rock template.
There are also moments of downright queasiness to savour, ‘Seven Days’, is a woozy-drug fuelled tale of betrayal, matched by equally woozy brass and again, Moses’ voice – so well suited to storytelling. The music disorientates as the song unfolds before eventually, collapsing under its own sludgy, seedy, weight. Similarly, ‘Need You To Not’ is a song about a man who loves his dog (no, really, he really loves his dog) “I kissed a dog and I liked it,” sings Moses, “Katy Perry ain’t got shit on this” – it’s hilarious and completely warped in equal measure.
The twists and turns continue apace, Ruth Wells takes over singing duty for ‘In Time’, a really great song referencing the sort of Jeff Lynne/George Harrison sound that bothered the charts back in the day. It’s a great tangent from the jazzier body of the album, and in Wells they have a second singer of extremely high quality to match Moses, it’s a pity we don’t hear more from her as it’s such a sweet song, and her voice so distinctive, despite it’s revenge-is-a-dish-best-served-cold theme.
As well as the songwriting there are also moments of sublime musical composition. I’m thinking mostly here of the instrumental ‘Keller’, which is as good a jazz-rockout as I’ve heard in many a year. Every song though is so incredibly well composed and played it seems almost unfair to pick any of them out. The whole thing ends on a note of bathos, a chugging bluesy guitar, a deep-fried Southern spiced sax: ‘Good Noight Blues’. No, I’ve no idea what a ‘noight’ is, perhaps it’s a Sydney (‘Sydnoi’) thing.
So, plenty of musical tangents, songwriting that is as sweet as it is sleazy, and this is only their début record. Frankly I don’t know what you’re waiting for.
