The Candy Machine
Tune International
DeSoto Records, PO Box 60335, Washington DC 20039
Release Date: 1997
Art funk." It hardly rolls off the tongue. And it certainly doesn't sound very appetizing to the aural palette. But Baltimore, MD's The Candy Machine manages to take two of the more-oft abused musical formats -- art rock and funk -- and turn them into something altogether new and exciting: a chaotic swirl that pulsates and demands attention even as it puts a twitch in your indie-rock-lovin', can't-dance-a-lick-to-save-your-life booty.
Of course, The Candy Machine is hardly deserving of the baggage that the term "funk" carries with it. You won't find any
slap and pop bass. No gospel divas testifying. And the closest thing to a horn section is an occassional, out-of-tune
clarinet. But the unapologetic thudding bass and groove guitar give the band a distinctively funky flavor. Add to that
vocalist Peter Quinn's chaotic and ingenious mix of singing, speaking and barking (picture a manic preacher gone way,
way o'er the edge) and you've got one of the more interesting sound melds around.
Tune International starts off with a big bang. On "Exits and Entrances," the band lays down a pulsating
and repetitive groove that accentuates Quinn's staccato urgency as he delivers his way off-kilter rants.
Its a formula The Candy Machine turns to often, and they're blessed to have a singer who is creative
enough to make it work.
The armchair poet can't help but search for the hidden meaning in Quinn's lines. "Four steps back and five in front of you / A lexicon threat on North Ave. / A network built thick banks of Caesars / VISITORS," he yelps at the start of "Exits and Entrances." But the effort is a fruitless one. Quinn's lyrics are a hodgepodge of obscure cultural references, veiled observations and abstract verbal imagery that probably don't even make complete sense to him. Kinda like if Black Francis had been an English major.
But surprisingly, The Candy Machine is at their best when they slow things down. On "Coriolis" and the lovely closing track, "R retreats", Quinn eases back on the urgency and his lines become soothing mantras. The more relaxed feel also allows the instruments to shine. "Coriolis" features wonderful melodic interplay between Daniel Papkin's guitar and Jamie Panzer's floating bass.
The Candy Machine isn't afraid to cross into spacey-jam land either, though their brand of psychedelia stays far away from your standard issue LSD-inspired fare. Its for those of us who find the crazies in Kesey's One Flew Over the Cookoo's Nest more interesting than the ones from his acid tests.
It seems a bit silly to discuss CD packaging in a music review, but the cardboard and plastic that Tune International comes wrapped in demands rule-breaking. The orange digipak case (cardboard book with plastic tray) has a vertical rectangle cut out of it, through which a film strip of pictures of Dulles Airport's ridiculous people-movers peeks out. Pretty cool, but here's the great thing: flip over the insert booklet, slide it back in the sleeve and you've got a film strip of live pictures of the band in the cut-out. Two covers for the price of one! If the music don't get ya, the cleverness will!
-- Jon Carson
carson@outersound.com
