Where I live, this has been a truly horrendous winter. Wind chills in the negative-thirties, daily high temperatures not climbing above zero, an out-of-nowhere blast of quick snow followed by a forecasted mini-blizzard: you name it, we’ve taken it, on the face, over and over and over again.
At one point, the temperature didn’t rise above freezing for 29 consecutive days. I just saw on the news some lady froze to death YESTERDAY, in mid-March. Fuck your problems, ours are worse.
This kind of cold changes people. Bends souls. Pilfers humanity. One begins to be wary of leaving the house, of simply going outside. You start to loathe fresh air, it burns coming in, but also to be sickened by recycled air, by the sight of your couch, the interior of your house, whatever shelter in which you’ve cowered, day after day, for far too many months, and with no end in sight. Roads crumble. The Earth yellows. Animals shift into survival mode, and humans fall in line behind them. A person comes up with something that might be fun to do, but is forced to tough it out instead of enjoying it, to find what joy can be found not in doing the thing, but in managing to not freeze to death in the attempt.
I know, I know. It’s an old story. No one cares, not that much. I certainly wouldn’t, had it not happened to me. But it did happen to me, and to my fellow citizens. Is still happening, in fact, and we’re just now beginning to think about how we thaw out for the spring and summer weather supposedly on-deck in a wondrous future I’ll believe when I see.
But it is on-deck, history and science guarantee as much, and when that nice weather arrives, there will be much rejoicing. Mornings, afternoons, nights, weekends, school days, vacations: nothing but the hardest rocking, the best we can muster, as long as our climate abides. And abide it will, eventually.
Little productive will even be attempted. Getting out, being silly, forcing fresh air into our bodies, as much as we can stand. Time spent in good company, passed in merriment. Moments of particular beauty spent in an open field, or beside a large body of water, basking in the cool breezes available there with shirts off, shorts on, sandals flip-flopping, boots locked at home in the basement with the spiders and the dust because we’ll have no use for them. A frisbee will glide on the wind towards me until the exact perfect moment when it feels right to jump and that’s what I will do to snatch it and YOOOOOOOOOOOOOO LET US LIVE AND BE OUTSIDE! There was a time we feared for our well-being, and that of our civilization, but once the weather finally turns, life and living will be free and easy, and us so thankful for it.
Underneath the Rainbow by The Black Lips celebrates this spirit of renewal and acceptance. The maniacal enjoyment of what adventures await. I’ll play this record on one of these glorious days and my friends and I will smile, nodding our heads to the rollicking drums, letting the pleasant melodies wash our brains in happiness, the juicy interplay of the bass and guitars surprising and delighting, the good feeling in the tunes infectious, their fully-leaded spirit heartening. Nutritious.
It is not perfect, but what stands out is how The Black Lips new collection finds itself so awesome in a way most other albums aren’t, because they aren’t designed to be. Underneath the Rainbow is aggressive and tuneful, sloppy and ruthless, a whole hell of a lot of fun available in a unique flavor. A man shouting “Come suck some milk from my titties!” stands out as both a come-on and a throw-away, a challenge to the listener and a ridiculous bit of grade school poetry. Same with “I love you from my guts, it makes me want to throw up” and countless other non-sequiturs and off-hand absurdities that make clear these poets are not of the Baudelaire school but fuck it, who cares, let’s have some fun. These moments combine with chugging, bonkers music to remind one not to take everything so seriously, a clarion call to chill out and have a laugh, drink heartily if that’s what one is into or dance like a maniac if not because sometimes a quick blast of rocking and rolling is all you get, and once found it should be enjoyed.
That Black Lips’ Underneath the Rainbow finds my ears as a late-March cold snap makes jumping off a tall building sound at least as reasonable as paying another insanely-expensive energy bill or waking early for another pre-dawn shovel-and-salt I find no accident. I choose, instead, to see the creation of Underneath the Rainbow as a gift from a benevolent universe through a fantastically fun band to people in desperate need of new energy, and Faith restored. Underneath the Rainbow reminds one that things aren’t always shitty, and that the sun will shine with warmth again; that Life is wonderful, and living worth the effort; that things are Fun and Good and when they are, don’t ask questions, just go with it.
Because remember this, too: just as summer’s up around the bend, there’s another winter deep in the distance behind it.
Rating: 4/5