Customer Reviews

Conn, Bobby

5 star:		(4)
4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

I bought this album after seeing Bobby's performance on MTV's Alternative Nation. What striked me about him was his rather strange appearance. After reading about him on the web, I had to hear his music properly so I ordered of copy of this album. I wasn't disappointed. This man makes Marilyn Manson seem normal. The album opens with the fractured funk noise of Overture which is a perfect intro for the album. The obvious highlight is 'Never Get Ahead' which is the perfect 3 minute pop song. 'Never Get Ahead' is also the only track suitable to be released as a single (except for Axis '67 part 1 perhaps). Some of it is rather disturbing (No Kids No Money), some of it is mellow (Axis '67 part 1) and some of it is damn funky! (the Sportsman). This is the perfect introduction to the Chicago no-wave scene.

Bobby Conn manages to combine funk, punk, rock opera, and digital music in a way which blows my mind. The most exciting stage presence and persona go along with this talented musician. If you want to "get down" all night while fighting against social forces-then give it a try- You'll like it!!

Well. Let's start off by saying that there is no way to take a neutral position on Bobby Conn: either he's the most hysterically funny abuser of established forms from the past (specifically 70's funk and 'Shaft-soundtrack'-styled R&B, 60's Motown, and drug-fried lurching slow-ass blues), or he's an insulting offensive abomination that revels in an annoying faux retro-decadence and pseudo-bad-trippy fake 'wild-man weirdness' that just makes you wish Screamin' Jay Hawkins would walk up and smack Mr. Conn down but good. In between, there's a long cut-up collage that reveals an unhealthy obsession with Paul McCartney. Works for me.

If you don't mind hearing about a number of rather unsavory subject matters (sacrilege, sodomy, substance abuse, Paul McCartney) and can cope with a vocalist that occasionally sounds like a 'slow child' in the grip of a Tourette's Syndrome fit, you'll find something of value here. Conn is essentially the punk rock Beck, or a white George Clinton on seriously bad mescaline. His musical cohorts sure know their stuff, allowing Conn to screw with your head while you try to 'dig the grooves' they 'lay down'. That flanged wah-wah pedal sure gets a lot of use. To test people's endurance to mind-numbingly wacky stuff, I usually play either this or the Disco Tex and the Sex-O-Lettes compilation. If they get past either one, they get a nice drink and a Pere Ubu song as a reward.

You might want to start considering getting down upon it, hep-cat. I know that I did, and regretted it not.

For those of you who are unfamillar with the pocket sized [strange] genius that is Bobby Conn, all I can say is brace yourself for the twisted brilliance of "Rise Up." A freaky voyage through the mind of a man who's music resembles the spirit of Serge Gainsbourg at his most provocative channeled through Frank Zappa doing his best Yoko Ono impression.

Forget all the regurgitated reverberated sounds of the "Next Big thing"'s singing their "music by number" renditions of proto-punk, and check out something truly original. Singing in a fantastic falsetto, akin to the preacher man himself Curtis Mayfield, Bobby tells us tales of the ominous armageddon, and the fact that he is of course the second comming."Rise Up", is an album consisting of anti-capatalist, satinistic preachings all coated in a psychedellic, funk-punk shell.

Some of the finer utterances of this lunatic lyricist include "United Nations under the rule of Satan" and "Jesus Christ, he came back, Jesus Christ high on crack" which eminates from the tittle track.

With Wing's "Live and let die" as a blue print, and his own miniscule attention span "Rise Up" is an excitingly eclectic epic of an album. To be listened to in solitude, sparingly, for fear its sheer brilliance may infect your soul. Not to everyones tastes, but as Dionne may have said "what the world needs now is a meglomaniac rock'n'roll preacher" to liven up today's stagnant sonic spectrum.

I bought this album after seeing Bobby's performance on MTV's Alternative Nation. What striked me about him was his rather strange appearance. After reading about him on the web, I had to hear his music properly so I ordered of copy of this album. I wasn't disappointed. This man makes Marilyn Manson seem normal. The album opens with the fractured funk noise of Overture which is a perfect intro for the album. The obvious highlight is 'Never Get Ahead' which is the perfect 3 minute pop song. 'Never Get Ahead' is also the only track suitable to be released as a single (except for Axis '67 part 1 perhaps). Some of it is rather disturbing (No Kids No Money), some of it is mellow (Axis '67 part 1) and some of it is damn funky! (the Sportsman). This is the perfect introduction to the Chicago no-wave scene.

Wicker Park Slacker Mack Daddy Supreme, on the SERIOUS REAL! Live Instruments used better than whatever the hell The Beastie Boys have been up to, A weirder persona than Marilyn Manson, and a more schizophrenic musical approach towards cross-genre busting than Kid Rock (and I'm originally from the Murder City). This stuff is SOLD OUT in stores locally, which is why I wandered by here. If you want a truly strange and funky honky who don't remind you of a pro-wrestler, or some kind of hick, check it out....