The Haunted House of Our Love

Just the other day, after finally clearing the record shelf of all my They Might Be Giants discs in order to make room for some Half Japanese bootlegs, I spied the Evil Wiener CD in the yet-to-be-filed stack. I'm happy to report that the discovery was fortuitous. Quirky though Chapel Hill's Bill Mccormick may be as a songsmith, he's got a clear rock vision. Warbling in a vocal style reminiscent of Jad Fair imitating Nikki Sudden, McCormick spins eccentric tales of love, life and loaf wherein the attentions of a fab chick are on par with having "silver dollars in my penny loafers," daily frustrations can be exterminated simply by purchasing an aerosol bugbomb and the creaking of a door and the crack of thunder signifies a dysfunctional relationship. Or something like that; McCormick's twisted sense of lyrical legerdemain can be read literally or figuratively with no problem. Part of the charm is due to the songs being melodic as hell and equally satisfying rhythmically. No"quirky" time signatures or overwrought arrangements, just straightforward garage pop and folk rock.

Fred Mills
Magnet