<3 Welcome to Episode 2 <3
This week I want to talk about the eclectic and, at times, bizarre 80s R&B pop group Was (Not Was). Particularly their breakthrough album, What Up, Dog? I don’t know if my dad “showed” me this album as much as he just crammed it down my throat on long car rides, but I’ve grown to hold it pretty close, and I’ve, weirdly, gotten a lot out of the Detroit-duo David Weiss (a.k.a. David Was) and Don Fagenson (a.k.a. Don Was).
As a bit of backstory, childhood friends David and Don Was relied heavily on vocalists Harry Bowens and “Sweet Pea” Atkinson as soulful front men to bring to life sometimes absurd and often satirical messages. Weiss is typically credited with writing the lyrics, as well as playing a mean flute, while Fagenson played bass and composed the music behind Was (Not Was). The approach of Weiss and Fagenson is inexplicable but undeniably smart, arguably too smart for their own good at times. Weiss once claimed, “If we had our druthers, we’d be living in a bizarre world where you could make ugly music and earn lots of coal for doing it.” Not dissimilar to Big Star, actually, their first albums achieved critical success but the sales were sh*t. It’s not hard to imagine why.
The group’s first, self-titled, album was a compilation of rock with heavy disco and funk influences, heavy-handed Reagan-era political-social commentary, and occasional beat poetry from Weiss (Weiss loves his beat poetry. I kinda do too). The art-funk quartet re-released the album with some additional deep tracks in 2004, entitled Out Come the Freaks.
Earth to Doris / Robot Girl
“She makes champagne out of 7-up and cheap wine / Like a chemist / Next to one of those insect electric chairs / Her skin gleaming blue every time a fly died”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=03LVC_r9gJE
Was (Not Was) used an abundance of guest writers and artists, relying heavily on the collaborative process after their first album. On their sophomore album, Born to Laugh at Tornadoes, Weiss and Fagenson invited Ozzy Osbourne to rap over what was, essentially, 80s electropop on Shake Your Head (Let’s Go to Bed). The ’83 version features Ozzy, but was later remixed in ’92 to feature Kim Bassinger instead, with some re-recorded Ozzy-backing. I think this is kind of devastating. Ozzy is probably ok with it. You can also hear Mel Tormé sing about asphyxiation on Zaz Turned Blue and Mitch Ryder wail on a “techno-rockabilly” number entitled Bow Wow Wow Wow.
Shake Your Head (Let’s Go To Bed) – 1992 Version
I’ve already glossed over a lot of weirdness (what the hell is “techno-rockabilly,” for example?) that probably deserves more analysis, but, I promise, it’s only to set the stage for the strange greatness that is What Up, Dog? Rolling Stone ranks the album at 99 on their list of 100 Best Albums of the Eighties, remarking about its cover:
“A deranged painting of a snarling pit bull held back on a short leash adorns the cover of What Up, Dog?, and a more appropriate image would have been hard to find. Was (Not Was)’s 1988 breakthrough album is an untamed and snap-happy work, a demented, rhythmic blend of classic soul and crazed rock & roll with a bark every bit as ferocious as its bite.”
That is to say, the album is a lot to handle. There’s little to no linearity, subject matter varies with no seeming direction, and it’s not always clear whether some songs actually have much of anything to say. The album opens with surprising sentimentality in the ballad, Somewhere in America There’s a Street Named After My Dad, but has no problem transitioning into an upbeat track about the JFK assassination entitled 11 MPH (the speed of the car JFK was in when assassinated). Peppered throughout are more experimental pieces like Earth To Doris, where we get a taste of Weiss’ frantic beat poetry, as well as Dad, I’m In Jail, a “primal screamfest” at the end of the album that, without fail, my dad would use to wake me up when I’d fall asleep in the front seat. In fact, that’s probably my most vivid memory of this album as a kid.
Dad, I’m in Jail
“Hi dad, I’m calling you from jail / Hi dad, happy birthday, I’m in jail / Jail, jail, hi dad / All those years, I’m in jail now / I’m in jail, I like it here”
(Animation by Christoph Simon)
Their third album had a characteristically long list of guest artists and co-writers, including Frank Sinatra, Jr. on Wedding Vows in Vegas and Elvis Costello on Shadow & Jimmy. Listening to the first 30 seconds of these two songs, the influence is immediately apparent. Which is cool. Was (Not Was) really let great artists play with their parts with a lot of freedom, and, in turn, the sum was greater. The albums, as I said, sound really disjointed at times, but that’s what you come to expect, and even appreciate, about Was (Not Was).
Wedding Vows in Vegas
But wedding vows in Vegas / Aren’t meant to last for ages / You’ve got to be courageous / To play the odds that love will win / Whatever city you’re in
Shadow & Jimmy
They’ve got a mouthful of much obliged / And a handful of gimme / And the love for each other / Oh Shadow and Jimmy
The album was rocketed to success (well it reached 43 on the charts, anyway) by their two hits Walk the Dinosaur and Spy in the House of Love. As weird as this is to think about, heavy rotation on MTV for the Walk the Dinosaur video left the song in the top ten US singles chart in 1989, and was largely responsible for ending the drought of commercial success Was (Not Was) had experienced to this point. The video is awesome and weird and terrible and so early 90s it’s hilarious.
Walk the Dinosaur
According to co-writer Randy Jacobs the song was originally about nuclear Armageddon. The chorus repeats twice, “Open the door / Get on the floor / Everybody walk the dinosaur,” until, in the final minute of the song, one word is replaced. They repeat, “Open the door / Get on the floor / Everybody kill the dinosaur.” This is followed up by the all-too-familiar “Boom boom acka-lacka lacka boom / Boom boom acka-lacka boom boom.”
Jacobs is quoted, claiming, ‘It became a dance because of the video. They connected it with the girls in the little Pebbles and Bam-Bam outfits. All the sudden it became, like, ‘do the mashed potato’ or ‘the twist.”
With the commercial success that came from What Up, Dog? and the connections that Weiss and Fagenson had established with so many of the greats by this time, the duo decided to part ways and pursue separate careers scoring films and producing. They came out with what was, essentially, their last album entitled Are You Okay? in 1990 with even more ridiculous guest musicians including Iggy Pop and Leonard Cohen, and shortly after drifted apart.
And that was it. Nobody heard much out of Was (Not Was) for about twenty years outside of a couple of compilation albums. They released their greatest album, got people to listen to songs like “Dad, I’m In Jail,” (willingly, no less), and after 4 albums they decided they were done with the project. They say that it’s better to burn out than to fade away, and when “burning out” for Weiss consists of working as a producer with Bob Dylan and k.d. lang, producing TWO, count ‘em TWO, soundtrack albums for the X-Files, and becoming President of Blue Notes Records, it’s hard to say that moving on was the wrong choice. A quote from Weiss illustrates somebody with at least a few reservations about the merits of popular music. He states, “It’s easy to make disgusting, unlistenable records that are just plain weird. But that’s what we do on a good day.”
Was (Not Was)’s last joke came in the form of their unexpected 2008 album, entitled Boo! Released 18 years after Are You Okay?, the band somehow managed to wrangle up the whole gang. The usual suspects, as well some new accomplices in Booker T. Jones and Kris Kristofferson, accompany Weiss, Fagenson, Bowens, and Atkinson. Andy Kellman from AllMusic wrote, “They’ve remained ageless all along, balancing their adolescent pranksterism with sharp social observations and deliriously random humor, deploying it all over sturdy grooves that roam unselfconsciously across the history of R&B.” The band did their obligatory “last tour/late night TV” circuit, but overall failed to drum up much enthusiasm from anyone that wasn’t already humming Walk The Dinosaur on a daily basis.
While they didn’t have the same cultural impact in 2008 as they did twenty years before, it’s pretty great to hear newer Was (Not Was) material that, as mentioned by Kellman, seems ageless. Was (Not Was) didn’t change with the times, but their formula (or lack thereof) works all the same, which is maybe why What Up, Dog? has been heavy in my dad’s rotation for so long. The music is entertaining and groove-able, poignant and funny, and kind of the ultimate driving music for precisely those reasons.
In any case, there’s no doubt that the most interesting scenario here is the one in which my dad decides to introduce me to a band that Detroit’s Metro Times described as “an endearing mess…a sausage factory of funk, rock, jazz and electronic dance music, all providing a boogie-down backdrop for a radical (and witty) political message of unbridled personal freedom and skepticism of authority.” There’s no way in hell I’m going to show my kids Was (Not Was) at thirteen. That being said, I’m glad my dad did.
JACK FEHRENBACHER | KXSU Reporter
Techno-rockabilly: Reverend Horton Heat. Also, check out Scatterbrain. 🙂