Violent Femmes' self-titled debut is one of those first-up efforts that distil the mad joy of early-career zeal into 40 magic minutes, possessing a mischievous spirit that is renewed with each spin of the platter.
The Femmes were given their first break in August 1981 when Pretenders guitarist James Honeyman-Scott caught the Milwaukee trio's street-corner busking act. Hours later, they found themselves performing a short acoustic set before Chrissie Hynde and co's show at the Oriental Theatre, setting in place a series of events that would soon see the band signed to Slash Records, an LA label noted for its retinue of punk acts.
Opening with Blister In The Sun, the album captures from the outset the immediacy and candour of a brilliant busking gig.
The strings of Brian Ritchie's acoustic bass buzz as he attacks them without restraint, while drummer Victor DeLorenzo's brushes slap and slash angrily at his snare drum. Singer/guitarist Gordon Gano is all adenoids and angst, launching into a song he's been carrying with him since high school and knows inside out.
One after another, these folk-punk songs of lust, frustration and fury blast forth like a cork from a bottle as the young band documents the best material it has at its disposal. No doubt well-accustomed to performing to small but enthusiastic party crowds, the Femmes cram their songs with hushed, tension-building sections and cathartic sing-along choruses that are now impossible to forget.
But far from being one-dimensional, the album mixes up the tempo and the type.
Snappy tracks Kiss Off, Add It Up, Prove My Love, Promise and Gone Daddy Gone are balanced against the cod reggae of Please Do Not Go, the dark weirdness of the Talking Heads-like To The Kill and the wistfulness of Good Feeling, creating a hybrid mix of traditional music forms and alternative rock that, for a while at least, was solely the territory of Violent Femmes.
