What is it, what is it
That goes sighing through the alcoves
That goes whispering in verses and lyrics
That goes by in dark corners in small houses
That goes through minds and mouths
That goes lighting candles along dark alleys
That speaks loudly in bars
That yells in the markets, that certainly
Is in nature, Is it
That which is never certain, and never will be
That which is not fixed, and never will be
That which has no size
What is it, what is it
That lives in the ideas of these lovers
That the most delirious poets sing
That the crazed prophets vow
Is in the processions of the mutilated
Is in the fantasies of the miserable
Is in the day-to-day of the prostitutes
Is in the plans of thieves, of the handicapped
In all senses, Is it
That which has no decency, and never will
That which does not self-censor, and never will
That which makes no sense
What is it, what is it
That no warning will help avoid
Because laughter will defy it
Because all the bells will play it
Because all hymns will consecrate it
And all the boys will let it loose
And all destinies will meet
And even the Holy Father, who is never really there
When looking at that hell, will bless it
That which has no government, and never will
That which has no shame, and never will
That which has no judgement
What is it, what is it
That no warning will help avoid
Because laughter will defy it
Because all the bells will play it
Because all hymns will consecrate it
And all the boys will let it loose
And all destinies will meet
And even the Holy Father, who is never really there
When looking at that hell, will bless it
That which has no government, and never will
That which has no shame, and never will
That which has no judgement
(Original lyrics in Portuguese)
Man Man’s Six Demon Bag is poised to become a long-time favourite of mine. Every track of rock-jazz oddness is appropriately elating or sorrowful. It’s one of the most enjoyable albums I’ve discovered since Odelay or Actual Sounds and Voices.
Six Demon Bag is strange, undoubtedly. Its voices and instrumentation are all over the place: a raspy chorus, candied falsetto, and sweaty growls play over organs, bass, synths, and accordions. Black Mission Goggles is punctuated with exuberant whoops and laughter; the sadness of Skin Tension is made of gravelly regrets and a saxophone. Man Man makes an album of it all. There’s a weird, consistent style in its red-faced joy, earnest heaviness of heart, and somewhat threatening excitement. Despite being so varied, there is a unique and compelling sound to it all.
The lyrics are similarly eclectic and successful. There’s a strain of surreality throughout, suitable in everything from the psychedelic Engwish Bwudd to the lament of Van Helsing Boombox. For all the grandiosity of the rousing chanteys (and the masculine hardness connoted by the name “Man Man”), many songs tell of pain and a want of intimacy. It may seem maudlin to ask “will we ever find the one that we were meant to love like we want to be loved?” or to hope to “sleep for weeks like a dog at her feet,” but Man Man communicates honestly, without pretension. Just as honest are the manic freak-outs (Young Einstein on the Beach) and threats to “hide in the dark and stab him in his heart.” The music is all the more involving for its soft truths and creepy edges.
Six Demon Bag can’t be classified. Generic labels don’t stick. It’s not released by a major label, sure, but it doesn’t sound indie (thankfully). Its closest analogues are probably Captain Beefheart’s Trout Mask Replica and Tom Waits’ Rain Dogs, although these may come to mind only because they also don’t fit a genre. Regardless of what Six Demon Bag may or may not be qualified as, I recommend you get it in your ears.
Their record label provides Van Helsing Boombox and Engwish Bwudd (for which there is a suitably frantic animated video); Feathers, the opening track, and Black Mission Goggles are available for download elsewhere. Man Man’s official site is regrettably Flash-only, and their MySpace page is, like all other MySpace pages, a barely navigable mess, but, you know, they’re there.
