Where do I start with a review of Bobb Trimble’s The Crippled Dog Band? Like a thousand reviewers before me, I have to start with Bobb’s vocals. It feels like the easy way out but there really is no other place to begin.
Bobb sounds like the bastard child of the Dead Kennedys’ Jello Biafra and Rush’s Geddy Lee. Yes, really. Apparently there is such a thing. Oddly, the music itself is something of a hybrid of those two bands, if you can imagine it. On the one hand The Cripple Dog Band is frantic psych-garage played at what sounds like double speed—at times sounding like a 33 1/3 record played at 45 rpm—something like the D.K.’s Winnebago Warrior on speed.
On the other hand, there are tender ballads that switch effortlessly from acoustic to electric and would sound right at home tacked on next to anything on Rush’s 2112. All of this is interspersed with 80s video game soundtracks, bombs and air-raid siren sound-effects and studio chatter.
If everything I’ve described so far sounds weird, that’s because it is. Everything about The Cripple Dog Band is weird—but not in a “get me outta here” way. Instead this is an endearing and engaging listen. It begs to be heard again and again. To be dissected and discovered over a longer period of time than a typical reviewer is willing/able to give to a record.
The Crippled Dog Band hits its stride in the center with three killer garage-rock songs that would feel right at home on a Nuggets compilation—the anti-war psychedelic dirge, Fight Or Fall/Screw It, the aptly titled middle-eastern favor of Camel Song and the driving, ZZ Top-ish rhythm of Undercovers Man all roll together like a finely crafted triptych. As if flaunting his Massachusetts roots, Bobb opens Poker Game Of Life by yelling, “Hey, does anyone wanna play a game of pok-AH?” in the most beautiful of Boston accents.
The Crippled Dog Band is a record out of time. It was recorded in 1984, but sat on a shelf until its release this week on Yoga Records. There is nothing about this record that shouts 1984. The only hint to its vintage is the dated video game samples. Otherwise the record sounds straight out of the late Sixties or early Seventies.
Trust me when I say that this record requires multiple listens and pays dividends for the patience.
Bobb Trimble's The Crippled Dog Band will have its official CD release show this Thursday, July 28, at Great Scott.
--George Dow
