Author: Sandi Sadar Šoba
Artist: Fu Manchu
Label: Century Media
Release: 2007
“The title We Must Obey is a big ‘Fuck you’ to people who like to tell us what we can and can’t do. It’s not specifically directed at any one person, just at the thought of someone thinking that they know what’s best for you, more than you knowing what’s best for you. That theme sort of runs through the entire record,” (Scott Hill, kitara in vokal)
Fu Manchu are a peculiar breed of experimenters whose main goal is to not sweat stylistic limits or narrow genre pigeonholing. They’ll also never land on any list of music millionaires… Still, you have to give them credit: in their own trivial way, over years and years of making music, they’ve managed to merge influences from all kinds of rock branches and season the result into a thoroughly unique blend of the seventies, where they came from idea-wise, and they tossed a pinch of punk, stoner rock and who knows what else into the sonic stew. The fuzz-rock outfit from Orange County spiced up February with the release of their tenth record already, titled We Must Obey. They handled the sound production and the ideas themselves, and the recording went down at the famous Grandmaster Records studios in Hollywood, and bands like Tool, Nine Inch Nails and Black Crowes can tell you what you can cook up there. Gene Grimaldi nailed the finishing touches at Oasis Mastering (among others, Velvet Revolver, Pennywise and the like have felt his pedantry first-hand). The nineties were very good to them, since with the record In Search Of… and the later The Action Is Go they set entirely new directions for rock music. Maybe not as successfully as their fellow countrymen, whom I’ll get to a bit later. The turn of the millennium took its toll, though. Among other things, the tastes of the masses changed drastically. So longer gaps between records in the Fu Manchu camp became something we got used to. Plenty of people would figure they’d run out of energy and burned out chasing success and a bigger commercial breakthrough. At least in my opinion, hardly any listener of the new record We Must Obey could back that up.
The album’s sound is furious and unrestrained. Quiet passages are few, though they do turn up (very rarely, really!). Understandable, since on top of everything else they grew up on hardcore, eighties punk. The first listen makes it clear that the combo of guitars and drums sounds more like the nineties, serving up a resemblance to the legendary Kyuss, Queens Of The Stone Age, Monster Magnet, and sounding more like a pissed-off version of Brant Björk on a pretty heavy trip, who drowned it in a whole bottle of Tabasco. We could gently call them retro, but they keep their own recognizable identity in an effortless way and never give you the feeling they’re just replaying stuff you’ve already heard. They’ve managed to top what they achieved on their mid-nineties releases. The opening song ‘We Must Obey’ attacks at full throttle, with a prestigious dose of distortion and riffs. Singer Scott Hill nearly convinces you with his throaty bellowing that he means it and there’s no other way: we’ll have to obey! ‘Knew It All Along‘ pulls off a simple but effective guitar riff through hazy distortion, and by deliberately lingering on single-string minimalism it hits you right in the gut. A crunchy yet balanced dose of the wild and the beautiful hints that they’ve dressed up in live-friendly colors, ones that grab even the most indifferent listener or concert-goer who ends up at one of their shows by mistake or with a horse-sized dose of skepticism. ‘Let Me Out’ hands the reins of racing and deliberate tempo-stopping entirely to their drummer Scott Reeder. The sonic picture ends up pretty similar to a less guttural version of some Sick Of It All, reaching for softer guitar grips and tones. The childishness and repetition don’t bother, since the whole point of Fu Manchu is precisely minimalism. ‘Hang Out To Dry’ is a Kyuss-sounding song that, in an almost dim-witted way, puts the first third of the record into a state of perfect floating. Fu Manchu are equilibrists, and our ears are the object they juggle until a little over three minutes of ecstasy. ‘Shake It Loose’ with its bass intro recalls early Queens Of The Stone Age. The comparison is instant, direct and without fussy embellishments that would spoil the tempo and the beauty of charging forward. ‘Land Of Giants’ shows how reverse-recorded stick hits on the snare sound, and a tempo change slows the previous charge down to a slow stroll. No philosophizing. You just shift your head into a lower gear, count the clouds of cigarette smoke or whatever other smoke, and fill the space between your ears with a lovely vacuum of carefree hedonism. ‘Between The Lines’ repeats the demands already laid out at the start of the record. The dictate is direct and short: everything you think is final needs to be aired out again and rethought between the lines. Their music isn’t for those looking for depth and constant philosophizing. What You Hear Is What You Get! ‘Lesson’ slowly wraps up the whole thing with yet another stoner-punk hybrid, in which you’ll struggle to count more than four chords. Okay… I’m exaggerating. You count five chords and a simplified but punchy slide solo, over which race solo lines the way a guitarist would play them if only feel mattered to him, not technique. And just like that we’re at the cover of a Cars tune: ‘Moving In Stereo’, which charges your batteries with a positive vibe. Scott, despite not having a huge vocal range, sings the few lines of the song nicely. Then comes a salvo of guitars and meditation over a repetitive rhythm that can get you hooked. That’s why stoner is such a wonderful musical substance for unwinding. ‘Didn’t Really Try’ is, by my standards, a bit too much of a punky bouncer, and it scores the only own goal on an otherwise wonderful record. ‘Sensei Vs. Sensei’ closes the album in an almost surfy, stoned way, wrapping it up in a package where everything more or less sits where it should. The half-hour stoner marathon ends and closes right here.
The verdict on the record is simple: it’s a minimalist and effective mix you’d have expected about ten years ago. I’m old-school and I love the nineties sound, so this record will surely end up on the playlist of one of my marathon sentimental trips back to times past or half-past. It’s no masterpiece. Actually, nobody expects that from them. Probably not even they themselves. All that matters is enjoyment and satisfaction. All of this, plus a good dose of sonic backdrop for evening boozing and decadence, is what Fu Manchu serve you in a package called We Must Obey.
Lineup
Scott Hill – vocals/rhythm guitar
Bob Balch – lead guitar
Scott Reeder – drums
Brad Davis – bass
Production
Gene Grimaldi & Fu Manchu
Track list
01. We Must Obey
02. Knew It All Along
03. Let Me Out
04. Hung Out to Dry
05. Shake It Loose
06. Land of Giants
07. Between the Lines
08. Lesson
09. Moving In Stereo
10. Didn’t Really Try
11. Sensei Vs. Sensei
ALBUM LENGTH:
