Album Review: Man Man "Rabbit Habits" (Anti-)

Last April I read an article in the Philadelphia City Paper about the weirdo-waltz-rock band Man Man, who incidentally stem from the city of Brotherly Love. I was befuddled by the fact that their sophomore LP, Six Demon Bag (Big Trouble in Little China reference, natch) sold a tad less than 8,000 copies, while their debut, The Man in the Blue Turban (both on Ace Fu) sold around 4,000. Furthermore, Ace Fu decided not to renew their contract and were label-less. Keep in mind that Ace Fu is known primarily for putting out Ted Leo's sub-par early release and keeping the Annuals in the studio.

My mind started racing and I wanted answers. Where is the justice in the cold cruel world of rock and roll? Is this the Internets' fault? Yes! That is the problem! It's the Internet and our disgustingly western consumeristic tendencies. Technology has reared it's ugly head from behind a street corner and jumped my favourite weirdo-waltz-rock band!

Out of breathe and out of sorts, I calmed myself down since I was starting to sound like Bob Lefsetz.

But then in November the news trickled down: Not only had Man Man signed to a new record label, they signed to Epitaph's sister label, Anti-, home of Nick Cave, Tom Waits, Bob Mould, Billy Bragg and, um... the Weakerthans. This made me happy, as Anti- is the perfect home for Man Man. The Anti- roster contains weathered, proven artists who have taken chances and persevered without a noticeable interest in commercial appeal (unless you count a starring role in Jim Jarmusch film or laying down a song that would later be the theme for the Greatest Ever Television Show). Man Man was the kid in class who couldn't get it together in school because his deadbeat parents couldn't get it together at home. To continue on that strange metaphor, I'll proudly say that Anti- is making a wonderful foster parent for the hombres.

Oh right, the music. For someone who loved Six Demon Bag the way that I did, it took me a little while to warm up to Rabbit Habits. The first noticeable difference is that their aren't any short-ish manic screeching tribal muppet voice songs. Which is pretty much like a rap album doing away with the skits. Maybe you'd miss the Madd Rapper at first, but ultimately, the lack of inside jokes (or mind numbing caterwauls of nonsense) makes for a more fluid listen. Second, Rabbit Habits grooves unlike previous Man Man releases. The band on the top deck of your next cruise ship won't be sticking "Harpoon Fever (Queequeg's Playhouse)" on their set list between Shaggy cover songs and the Macarena but the fuzzed out bass on "Hurly/Burly" show that these men can get down.

The most noticeable difference between Rabbit Habits and it's predecessors is how much more concise they've gotten. Which is not to be confused with brevity, as the last two tracks make up a large fraction of the album's running time. Rather, Man Man have learned that the everything-but-the-kitchen-sink approach might not always suit them. To put it simply: less is more, at least on Rabbit Habits. To avoid confusion: the band hasn't toned it down or hold back. They still invade our ears, armed with pulsing screams, electronic static, turtle shell drumming, endless percussion and eerie whispers. Except now these elements aren't all crammed into a one minute instrumental break. This approach makes Rabbit Habits an easy target for lazy journalists and message-board-seekers who may see Rabbit Habits as a more "mature" effort. Rest assured though, once Honus Honus drops the line, "You look bodacious" in "Big Trouble," all thoughts of seemed maturity should be vacated immediately.

Foregoing the brilliant delayed gratification of Six Demon Bag's one-two punch of "Feathers"/"English Bwadd," the boys kick things off with an electronic zap and a ferocious take on live staple, "Mister Jung Stuffed." The tentatively paced big-band jam "Big Trouble" contains a yelped chorus of "You make me feel like/I am a zombie!/Woe is Me/I am a zombie!" which is preceded by the warning "Whatever makes you tick is what makes me crawl." What makes Man Man such a compelling listen is that under all of the hoots and hollers, moustaches and sleaze, Honus Honus seems to have a restless heart- or so he'd like us to think.

The off the cuff looseness of "Easy Eats or Dirty Doctor Galapagos" makes for the perfect musical hotbed for a hysterically short and superficial summation of modern romance. The funny part is, after a few listens, the frantically frustrated growls start to ring true and you realize that perhaps circus freaks have feelings too. But I think I already learned that.

While no song captures the melancholy strut (or crossover appeal) of Six Demon Bag stand out, "Van Helsing Boombox," two songs take the mood of that song and stretch it in two different directions. "Doo Right" is just Senor Honus and his piano, banging away, holding his own with his gravelly doo-wop-esque growl. At first one could imagine this is their stab at song parody, ala "Go Cry on Somebody Else's Shoulder." This presumption is put to rest as soon as the key changes and Honus lays it on the table: "I can't breathe underwater like I used to before I met you." This is by far Man Man's greatest strength as a band. As unconventional as their music can be, they are able to convey the frustration of being changed by someone you love articulately without ever sounding stale or cheesy.

The title track is another drumless Honus Honus piano ditty which seems to revolve around heartbreak ("There's a space and place where his heart was before"). This song also seems to focus on the profound and irreversalble change that someone can undergo trudging through a tumultuous relationship. While both songs highlight what someone was like before the relationship, "Doo Right" projects some kind of hope, almost as if both songs were written about the same relationship, only "Rabbit Habits" came much closer to the end.

Man Man are an idiosyncratic band and I could write about them for far longer than most people would want to read. I'm sure you will read lots about "Poor Jackie" when the album starts getting proper reviews. It's an excellent song, filled with a strong narrative (Jack the Ripper, natch) and lots of musical movements. It definitely hints at possible future directions for the band (and contains the album's sole moustache reference) but it shouldn't be the focus of our attentions. Our attentions should be paid to the wild, still unpredictable, Man Man who have made another excellent record of personal songs shrouded in the best sounding sleaze since Greg Dulli. Anti- must be so proud.

Recommended Songs: "Mister Jung Stuffed," "Top Drawer," "Rabbit Habbits" and "Big Trouble."

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