Man Man (awesome band from Philadelphia)

Dejan · 02-08-2008, 07:30 PM

Their AWESOME new record is called Rabbit Habits,released a couple of months ago.

Track List:
01. Mister Jung Stuffed
02. Hurly / Burly
03. The Ballad Of Butter Beans
04. Big Trouble
05. Mysteries Of The Universe Unraveled
06. Doo Right
07. Easy Eats Or Dirty Doctor Galapagos
08. Harpoon Fever (Queequeg's Playhouse)
09. El Azteca
10. Rabbit Habits
11. Top Drawer
12. Poor Jackie
13. Whalebones

Check out some videos (live and from the studio)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N0TbanMlBjg

Dejan · 02-08-2008, 07:35 PM

(paste magazine)

Following its pair of bizarrely excellent albums for tiny indie imprint Ace Fu, Man Man has signed to Anti- Records, and it feels like some sort of alien-to-mothership homecoming. After all, aside from the Philadelphia quintet being granted a larger platform from which to spew its raucous circus chants, Man Man is now labelmate to fellow shit-stirrers Nick Cave and Tom Waits.

Some curmudgeonly purists will inevitably scream “sell out,” concerned that a larger imprint will corrupt such a weird young band. Not only is this scenario irrelevant (remember those labelmates?), Man Man is too gloriously oddball and defiant to be swept up in some puerile notion of what’s mainstream or accessible. To bastardize a Young Jeezy lyrical nugget, the closest the members of Man Man have ever been to commercial is when they watch TV.

Of course, we must acknowledge the band’s songs. Those unassailably joyous songs—bursting with xylophone, bouncy piano, wailing horns, children’s toys and the gruff, occasionally mournful noises emanating from lead singer Honus Honus. Rabbit Habits traffics in familiar Man Man territory: namely, the strange playground where all of these elements not only cohabitate peacefully but actually collaborate. Indeed, it’s the same fertile, unpredictable soil from whence Waits, Captain Beefheart and Frank Zappa unearthed their muse—and these reference points are both apt and, unfortunately, overused in describing these Pennsylvanian knuckleheads.

What isn’t said enough about Man Man is that the group creates damn fine compositions. Some of them are goofy, and many weird, but these are the songs trapped in our dreams—songs filled with notions most of us are too sheltered or terrified to indulge. These songs are unhinged and unself-conscious. They are what rock ’n’ roll is meant to be and, frankly, what most rock bands have forgotten altogether: These songs are fun.

Dejan · 02-08-2008, 07:37 PM

(Prefix magazine review) RATING: 9

It's rare that someone as analytical and disinterested as I am is incapacitated by an album. But as soon as opener "Mister Jung Stuffed" staggered out of its knot of tape noise into a classic spy riff to begin Rabbit Habits, Man Man's third LP, my bodily vessel rebelled. The song jolted through any free joint or muscle it could conscript, pushing me off my chair and into a Lindy Hop with a desk lamp.

Then Honus Honus and the rest of the gang unleashed "Hurly/ Burly," whose bass line managed twice the funk of its predecessor and whose xylophones and screaming kids carried me fondly back to Man Man's 2004 debut, The Man in a Blue Turban with a Face. By the midway point, the boys had completely hijacked my involuntary functions and were using my liver as a piñata. And bonus bonus points for the kazoos, which bring up the bile of their live show.

Man Man has a knack for introducing its songs into the listener's body like new organs, unquestioned and vital. Even now, "Top Drawer" is rattling around in my head like a shriveled brain stem. What's more is that the band seems aware of this contagion; its lyrics are wrapped up in the unconscious, concerned with visceral attraction and dreamlike communication. Pieces like the appropriately titled opener read like black boxes from which erupt the most oblique but nightmarishly affecting noises and imagery. "Jung" turns the unconscious into a realm of espionage and intrigue as Honus Honus strains like an id toward the surface: "I've been locked down way too long/ Been locked down way too long." Later, in the gorgeous doo-wop of "Doo Right," he mutters about "collective memory," and in "Easy Eats" he describes a classically Freudian dream of teeth falling out into the street.

Rabbit Habits struck me most where it rescues the jazziness that's sorely missing from 2006's Six Demon Bag. At the same time, though, the band continues to develop some productive tendencies from that sophomore outing. Thus, "Big Trouble" opens with a horn section that recalls the big-band gestures of The Man in a Blue Turban with a Face while evincing a melancholic tenderness that the debut never quite hit. The post-apocalyptic romance of "Rabbit Habits" achieves a similar marriage with its candid duet between piano and bassoon.

In their ceaseless trek through novel territory, Man Man's cosmonauts often split and distill their inclinations instead of blending them into a normative "identity." Such surgery results in hallucinations like "El Azteca," which pushes the electronic leanings of their first album into Devo's absurd kingdom; like the numerous piano ballads that loft Six Demon Bag's airiness into even more stratospheric heights; like the guitar work that assumes a greater burden throughout this album, especially in the various riffs that underly the surprisingly affecting film noir of "Poor Jackie." And for the most part, these experiments succeed with miles to spare.

Rabbit Habits's greatest aspect is this sundered, schizophrenic psyche. Honus Honus no longer feels the need to cloak his inclinations toward jazz and doowop in parody or behind cartoonish voices and instrumentation. Meanwhile, as the xylophone farce of "The Ballad of Butter Beans" attests, he doesn't shy away from unabashed cartooning either. After all, dreams and absurdist art deliver the greatest emotional impact when the line is blurred between sincerity and lightness.

As I internalize all the mystifying symptoms of Rabbit Habits's lovelorn dogs and rotting zombies, I realize that what makes Man Man great is that its inspirations are not merely musical. They are bodily and avian, geological and cosmological, scientific and sorcerous.

02-08-2008, 07:30 PM	#1
Dejan Banned Join Date: Jul 2005 Posts: 1,591 Chat posts: 0 Thanks given: 0 Thanked 1 Time in 1 Post	Man Man (awesome band from Philadelphia) Their AWESOME new record is called Rabbit Habits,released a couple of months ago. Track List: 01. Mister Jung Stuffed 02. Hurly / Burly 03. The Ballad Of Butter Beans 04. Big Trouble 05. Mysteries Of The Universe Unraveled 06. Doo Right 07. Easy Eats Or Dirty Doctor Galapagos 08. Harpoon Fever (Queequeg's Playhouse) 09. El Azteca 10. Rabbit Habits 11. Top Drawer 12. Poor Jackie 13. Whalebones Check out some videos (live and from the studio) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N0TbanMlBjg

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02-08-2008, 07:35 PM	#2
Dejan Banned Join Date: Jul 2005 Posts: 1,591 Chat posts: 0 Thanks given: 0 Thanked 1 Time in 1 Post	(paste magazine) Following its pair of bizarrely excellent albums for tiny indie imprint Ace Fu, Man Man has signed to Anti- Records, and it feels like some sort of alien-to-mothership homecoming. After all, aside from the Philadelphia quintet being granted a larger platform from which to spew its raucous circus chants, Man Man is now labelmate to fellow shit-stirrers Nick Cave and Tom Waits. Some curmudgeonly purists will inevitably scream “sell out,” concerned that a larger imprint will corrupt such a weird young band. Not only is this scenario irrelevant (remember those labelmates?), Man Man is too gloriously oddball and defiant to be swept up in some puerile notion of what’s mainstream or accessible. To bastardize a Young Jeezy lyrical nugget, the closest the members of Man Man have ever been to commercial is when they watch TV. Of course, we must acknowledge the band’s songs. Those unassailably joyous songs—bursting with xylophone, bouncy piano, wailing horns, children’s toys and the gruff, occasionally mournful noises emanating from lead singer Honus Honus. Rabbit Habits traffics in familiar Man Man territory: namely, the strange playground where all of these elements not only cohabitate peacefully but actually collaborate. Indeed, it’s the same fertile, unpredictable soil from whence Waits, Captain Beefheart and Frank Zappa unearthed their muse—and these reference points are both apt and, unfortunately, overused in describing these Pennsylvanian knuckleheads. What isn’t said enough about Man Man is that the group creates damn fine compositions. Some of them are goofy, and many weird, but these are the songs trapped in our dreams—songs filled with notions most of us are too sheltered or terrified to indulge. These songs are unhinged and unself-conscious. They are what rock ’n’ roll is meant to be and, frankly, what most rock bands have forgotten altogether: These songs are fun.

02-08-2008, 07:37 PM	#3
Dejan Banned Join Date: Jul 2005 Posts: 1,591 Chat posts: 0 Thanks given: 0 Thanked 1 Time in 1 Post	(Prefix magazine review) RATING: 9 It's rare that someone as analytical and disinterested as I am is incapacitated by an album. But as soon as opener "Mister Jung Stuffed" staggered out of its knot of tape noise into a classic spy riff to begin Rabbit Habits, Man Man's third LP, my bodily vessel rebelled. The song jolted through any free joint or muscle it could conscript, pushing me off my chair and into a Lindy Hop with a desk lamp. Then Honus Honus and the rest of the gang unleashed "Hurly/ Burly," whose bass line managed twice the funk of its predecessor and whose xylophones and screaming kids carried me fondly back to Man Man's 2004 debut, The Man in a Blue Turban with a Face. By the midway point, the boys had completely hijacked my involuntary functions and were using my liver as a piñata. And bonus bonus points for the kazoos, which bring up the bile of their live show. Man Man has a knack for introducing its songs into the listener's body like new organs, unquestioned and vital. Even now, "Top Drawer" is rattling around in my head like a shriveled brain stem. What's more is that the band seems aware of this contagion; its lyrics are wrapped up in the unconscious, concerned with visceral attraction and dreamlike communication. Pieces like the appropriately titled opener read like black boxes from which erupt the most oblique but nightmarishly affecting noises and imagery. "Jung" turns the unconscious into a realm of espionage and intrigue as Honus Honus strains like an id toward the surface: "I've been locked down way too long/ Been locked down way too long." Later, in the gorgeous doo-wop of "Doo Right," he mutters about "collective memory," and in "Easy Eats" he describes a classically Freudian dream of teeth falling out into the street. Rabbit Habits struck me most where it rescues the jazziness that's sorely missing from 2006's Six Demon Bag. At the same time, though, the band continues to develop some productive tendencies from that sophomore outing. Thus, "Big Trouble" opens with a horn section that recalls the big-band gestures of The Man in a Blue Turban with a Face while evincing a melancholic tenderness that the debut never quite hit. The post-apocalyptic romance of "Rabbit Habits" achieves a similar marriage with its candid duet between piano and bassoon. In their ceaseless trek through novel territory, Man Man's cosmonauts often split and distill their inclinations instead of blending them into a normative "identity." Such surgery results in hallucinations like "El Azteca," which pushes the electronic leanings of their first album into Devo's absurd kingdom; like the numerous piano ballads that loft Six Demon Bag's airiness into even more stratospheric heights; like the guitar work that assumes a greater burden throughout this album, especially in the various riffs that underly the surprisingly affecting film noir of "Poor Jackie." And for the most part, these experiments succeed with miles to spare. Rabbit Habits's greatest aspect is this sundered, schizophrenic psyche. Honus Honus no longer feels the need to cloak his inclinations toward jazz and doowop in parody or behind cartoonish voices and instrumentation. Meanwhile, as the xylophone farce of "The Ballad of Butter Beans" attests, he doesn't shy away from unabashed cartooning either. After all, dreams and absurdist art deliver the greatest emotional impact when the line is blurred between sincerity and lightness. As I internalize all the mystifying symptoms of Rabbit Habits's lovelorn dogs and rotting zombies, I realize that what makes Man Man great is that its inspirations are not merely musical. They are bodily and avian, geological and cosmological, scientific and sorcerous.