“It’s Getting Late (And More Songs About Werewolves)” (YepRoc Records)
By Eleni P. Austin
If you came of age during the early ‘80s, you are probably familiar with the creepy-crawly cool of The Fleshtones. A quintessential New York band, they first formed in Queens back in 1976. Keith Streng (guitar) and Jan Marer Pakulski (bass) partnered with longtime pals Peter Zaremba (vocals/harmonica/keys) and Lenny Caulderon (drums).
The four-piece made their bones alongside nascent Punk combos like The Ramones, Talking Heads, Blondie and Television. Although the Big Apple was in decay and on the verge of bankruptcy, the music scene was thriving. Seedy dives like C.B.G.B.’s, Max’s Kansas City, as well as Club 57, Danceteria and Irving Plaza showcased this burgeoning new sound. Beyond the five boroughs, joints like Maxwell’s in Hoboken and the 9:30 Club in Washington, D.C. also provided safe haven.
As these bands evolved, the Talking Heads and Television chose an artier path, Blondie leaned in a Pop direction and The Ramones spiked their primitive aggression with hints of Bubblegum and British Invasion. But The Fleshtones opted to concoct a monster mash-up that mined ‘60s Garage Rock, R&B, Surf Rock and early Psychedelia. They characterized their sound as Super Rock. Signing with the tiny Red Star label they recorded their debut, Blast Off, but it remained unreleased.
They had better luck when they signed with I.R.S. Records. It was around this time that Lenny Calderon left the band and Bill Milhizer took his place behind the drum kit. The respected indie was owned by Miles Copeland (who also managed The Police) and was distributed by A&M Records. The label would strike gold with The Go-Go’s, whose debut shot to #1 in 1982. As the decade progressed, they would champion artists like R.E.M., Oingo Boingo, The English Beat, Wall Of Voodoo and Concrete Blonde.
The Fleshtones’ profile was raised exponentially with an appearance in the concert film, URGH! A Music War, which included The Police, O.M.D., Surf Punks, The English Beat, Wall Of Voodoo and XTC. Released in 1983, Roman Gods was the band’s commercial breakthrough. It included the hit “American Beat,” which they performed on Dick Clark’s American Bandstand. A year later the song received even wider exposure when it was featured in Tom Hank’s raunchy and raucous film, Bachelor Party. By 1986, Jan left the band and they enlisted Ken Fox to anchor the low end.
As the 20th century wound down, The Fleshtones cycled through a series of indie labels like Emergo, Ichiban, Telstar and Epitaph. They continued to crank out fresh and engaging records like Fleshtones Vs. Reality, Soul Madrid, Beautiful Light, More Than Skin Deep, and of course Hitsburg, Hitsburg Revisited and inevitably, Return To Hitsburg. Through it all, their loyal and exuberant fan base continued to expand.
Their fans were never limited to the U.S. The Fleshtones cultivated a following in Italy, Spain, Scandinavia and France. Back home, they were on hand for the creation of Wigstock! They were also the last band to play The World Trade Center’s Windows Of The World. Their sui generis sound inspired a plethora of cool bands like The Bellrays, The White Stripes and The Hoodoo Gurus.
After decades of label woes, the band found a home with YepRoc Records in 2003. All told, they’ve released eight albums via the venerable indie. 2007 saw the publication of Sweat: The Story Of The Fleshtones, America’s Garage Band. Two years later, a feature-length documentary, Pardon Us For Living, But The Graveyard’s Full arrived in theaters. Now hot on the heels of their 2021 opus, Face The Screaming Werewolf, they’re back with their 23rd album, It’s Getting Late (With More Songs About Werewolves).
The album kicks into gear with “Pussywillow.” Something of a shapeshifter, menacing bass lines rumble atop a ticklish beat as rangy vocals pay homage to the springtime flower with startling specificity: “It’s willows and sallows with little tiny cat paws, well do you ever wonder, well, is it a flower at all?” The arrangement burns and churns, and angular guitars line up next to jittery bass, a punishing rhythm and ooky keys. The lyrics slyly pine for a time when nature and beauty were experienced in person, instead of a TikTok post gone viral.
Nearly 50 years in, The Fleshtones have earned the right to air long-gestating grievances, mine personal experiences and surreptitiously salute musical antecedents. A few songs here connect those dots. Powered by searing Psych guitar, wiggy keys, coiled bass and an aggro back-beat, “The Consequences” is a bit of an eye-roll aimed at a ubiquitous band that continues to fail upwards. Then there’s “Morphine Drip” weds jagged guitars, lonesome harmonica, wily keys and fluid bass lines to a thunky beat. Lyrics chronicle a surreal post-op experience where the prescribed opiates failed to numb the pain. Meanwhile, on “That’s Why I’m Turning To You,” lyrics like “Sympathetic eyes and an open mind, come and help me out of this triple bind, I can tell by your look that you’re one of a kind, give me a chance cause I’m losing my mind,” yearns for a little emotional rescue. Something of a sanctified Soul Stomp it matches prickly guitars to throbbing bass lines, and a walloping backbeat that shares some musical DNA with The Clash’s “London’s Burning” and the Pretenders’ “Mystery Achievement.”
The best tracks leapfrog across the record with alacrity. There’s little ambiguity to be found on “Getting High With My Baby tonight.” Swirly Farfisa keys, stinging guitars and burly bass ride roughshod over staccato handclaps and a rattle-trap beat. Lyrics are just looking for a good time: “We been slaving for a dollar every day’s a fight, counting every minute to Friday night, now our dollar’s worth pennies, man, you know we’re right, so we’re gonna blow it all when we get the green light.”
The camaraderie of “Getting High…” is swapped out for something more philosophical on “Way Of The World.” Jangly guitars collide with sinewy bass, gritty keys, pounding piano and an elastic beat. Sharp lyrics parse society’s descent into cruelty: “One thing I could never understand is man’s inhumanity to man, it’s just the way of the world…and my head’s spinning around, turn, turn, turn, turn, and my head’s spinning around, the planet burns and we never learn.” A sirenic guitar solo soars like a signal flare on the break.
“Wah Wah Power” celebrates the spectral glide of that mesmerizing effect pedal. Phased and dusted guitar riffs shiver with evanescence across tensile bass, shimmering keys and a boomerang beat. Stream-of-conscious lyrics genuflect with an hypnotic intensity: “I discovered wah wah power, tunes out all the static, getting high up in the attic, or out behind the garage, no middle class mirage and I don’t need nobody, I’ve got everything I need, and you ain’t got nothing until I pick my lead/So you can pick your flower, I pick wah wah power, my wah wah up and play, I don’t care what people say, I don’t care about the girls, I turn on the world, if you don’t like my wah wah power , then I’ll turn it up even louder.”
Although the parenthetical part of the album title promises a plurality of fiendish Werewolf songs, there’s really just one. But “You Say You Don’t Mind it” is a mighty fine addition to The Fleshtones’ supernatural canon. The song is anchored by a locomotive rhythm, strafing guitars, prowling bass lines and a rollicking beat. Lighthearted lyrics work around any homicidal tendencies by limiting the Lycanthropic lovin’ to just a little afternoon delight.
Finally, it all coalesces on “Big As My Balls.” A nuanced narrative that extols the virtues of testicular tenacity, it features clangorous guitar, yowling vocals, spunky bass, thrusting keys, wailing harmonica and a thunderous beat. With lyrics like “Yeah, nuts of distinction, my place in history, a big nutcracker never, never fits me.” These guys clearly have the stones to muscle in on AC/DC territory.
Speaking of Stones, the album is dotted with a trio of cover songs. The guys recalibrate the Elton John deep cut, “Empty Sky.” In their hands it becomes a swaggering Glimmer Twins groover. “Love Me While You Can” was a lesser-known hit for Johnny Rivers (“Secret Agent Man,” “Poor Side Of Town”), here the band dirties up the pretty with fuzzy guitars, roller rink keys, buzzy bass and a frenetic beat. They also acquit themselves nicely on The Astronauts’ instrumental, “Hearse.”
The album closes with “It’s Getting Late.” A surprisingly tender benediction, it blends Bluesy harmonica, bendy bass lines and squally Psychedelic guitars. Although it glances in the rearview mirror, the focus is the future: “With what we’ve got left, tell me what you’ll do, it’s not where we’ve been, it’s where we’re going to.” It’s an upbeat finish to a great album.
The Fleshtones Super Rock sound is alive and well, and has yet to go out of style. It’s Getting Late (And More Songs About Werewolves) is a potent combo-platter of mordant wit. and killer riffs will soothe your savage soul.
