Fu Manchu are one of the greatest heavy rock bands of all time. Pick your era, doesn’t matter. They hold up against the nascent hard distorted blues of the ’70s, the post-grunge stonerism of the ’90s in which they came up in surf-happy San Clemente, California, and, well, they’ve had a hand in influencing all things riffy since, so yeah, that too. Their tenure as Fu Manchu marked its 30th anniversary in 2020 — timing is everything — and in addition to a return to touring post-covid, they’ve had two EPs out thus far to celebrate. So on top of their already established legacy in classics like 1996’s In Search Of…, 1997’s The Action is Go (discussed here) and 1999’s King of the Road (discussed here) — I’ll argue vehemently in favor of their first two records and their Century Media eras as well — they’re still adding to it. Their latest long-player was 2018’s Clone of the Universe (review here), which was both a burner that ticked all the boxes one would hope, and in what was surely a career highlight for the band, featured a guest appearance from Rush guitarist Alex Lifeson on the 18-minute finale “Il Mostro Atomico.”

At the time, three years between full-lengths was a pretty long time for Fu Manchu, but as they went from 2001’s California Crossing to 2004’s Start the Machine, they were in something of a transitional moment. That included parting ways with then-drummer Brant Bjork (Kyuss, now Stöner, etc.) and bringing in Scott Reeder (not to be confused with the bassist of the same name) to fill the role and signing with DRT Records after releasing the momentum-keeper Go for It… Live! through SPV in 2003. They’d worked with labels like Mammoth Records, Man’s Ruin and Bong Load for earlier albums, and as I recall DRT had some pretty decent distribution — Maryland’s Clutch were with them as well before a fallout, as well as several more commercial outfits — so it was something of an arrival for a band who, heading into their eighth album, were already veterans.

Start the Machine is about as clean and tight a Fu Manchu record as you’ll find. Not one of its 12 songs reaches the four minutes in length, and the 35-minute entirety is sharp in its execution and deceptively full in tone, the trademark fuzz of guitarists Scott Hill (also vocals) and Bob Balch and bassist/backing vocalist Brad Davis carried forth across material that could feel moderately paced but remained inherently loyal to Fu Manchu‘s punker roots while boasting maddeningly catchy hooks in songs like opener “Written in Stone,” “Hey,” “Make Them Believe,” “Today’s Too Soon,” “It’s All the Same,” and so on. As regards songwriting and the general efficiency of their work, Start the Machine wanted for nothing. Listening to it now, the band sound not only like they haven’t lost a step at all for the shift in lineup, but like they’re mature craftsmen of heavy rock and roll looking to expand their reach with a collection of killer songs. Kind of the ideal, right?

If you’re waiting for the ‘but,’ fair enough. Start the Machine is arguably the most maligned of Fu Manchu‘s records. And to put that to scale, I’ll say that any Fu Manchu album is better than, say, not a Fu Manchu album, but if you’re making a list in order of preference — a poll I’d love to conduct, just for the sheer nerdery of it — there’s little doubt Start the Machine would appear somewhere near the bottom. Part of that is an inevitable shift in trend and generational transition as some followers from the ’90s aged out and a new audience came up with a new expectation of what heavy rock was supposed to be — the times a-changing, and so forth — and part of it as well is probably down to the production of Brian Dobbs, who’d spent the better part of the decade prior working as an engineer with mega-producer Bob Rock on releases from the likes of Metallica, The Cult, AC/DC and Mötley Crüe, none of whom at that point were kicking out career highlights.

I refuse outright to ascribe motivations to either the band or the label involved — which is to say I won’t be calling Fu Manchu sellouts for working with a bigtime producer — and in the rager shove of “I Can’t Hear You,” the familiar start-stop declarations of “I’m Getting Away” and the twisting groove of the penultimate low-key melodic highlight “Tunnel Vision,” one can hear trademark elements of what has always made the band who they are, righteously reliable in songwriting and performance but able to break their own rules when they choose to do so. It’s spit-polished — and if you’re perhaps looking for some sense of the band’s feelings about it, one might put on the band’s 2007 outing, We Must Obey (discussed here), which is their biggest-sounding, maybe their hardest-hitting record as well — but there’s a lot, a lot, a lot to dig about Start the Machine, counter to its reputation.

So is this the part where I remind you that, hey, this record came out 18 years ago and maybe it’s worth checking in on again — perhaps digging into the band’s 2011 reissue with bonus demos, if you’re feeling saucy — to see how kind time has been to it? Hell yes it is. Because I’ll happily posit that time has been kind to Start the Machine, and while Fu Manchu‘s catalogue may have other, insurmountable landmarks — a few of them, and not all early in their career — this record deserves more love than it’s gotten in the past. California Crossing was a tough act to follow, but they did it in a way that now stands as a record unto itself in their discography and its songs have value even beyond their raw earwormness, prevalent though that is.

If nothing else. If you’ve read this and made it this far without clicking/pressing play above, take this as a sign that you should listen to some Fu Manchu today, and really, while you’re here, what’s the worst that can happen? “Written in Stone” gets stuck in your head? It’s been in mine for days now and you don’t hear me complaining.

As always, I hope you enjoy and thanks for reading.

—

Well, I’m home. Have to wonder if, had I not put up a post saying I was traveling, anyone would’ve noticed. It was pretty light on posts this week, but with the Thanksgiving holiday here in the US anyway. We — The Patient Mrs., The Pecan and I — were in Sayulita, Mexico, for a couple days to celebrate the wedding of a couple with whom we’ve been friends for well over 15 years. Used to get drunk in their garage, now they’re small business owners and killing it at life generally. Trip was ups and downs as regards stress level, as anything involving a five year old will be, but lil dude took a surfing lesson AND sat on my lap while we drove a golf cart through the streets of town, The Patient Mrs. got to stock up on warmth as we head into winter (that’s how it works, right?) and I still had time to write and post, so everybody got what they needed from it. We even got ripped off  by a cop on the side of the road after running a red light. $60 cash, paid in an alley so fewer people would see. A quintessential tourist experience, I’d say. He was like “we’ll go to the station where there are fewer people” and I was like, “no, if you’re going to rob me I’m not going anywhere with you.”

The wedding itself was interesting. First one I’ve been to in a while. It was gorgeous, on a mountaintop, and because of the ‘destination’ nature, there weren’t a ton of people there. I spent most of my time chasing around The Pecan, which suits me just fine. He needs to be occupied or it’s all over, and that usually means motion (or reading, which is nice, but we didn’t bring books and it barely occurred to me to use a digital reader). The Patient Mrs. did most of the social labor, which is basically how it goes. And that is deeply appreciated, even beyond her organization of the rest of the trip, our lodgings, and so forth.

I find that as time goes on I have less and less to say to people, even in an obviously friendly situation like that. It turns out that perhaps having spent the last 14 years wholly immersed in ONE THING in terms of life focus limits one’s ability to engage in other things. Who’d’ve thought, right? I know. And since there are maybe 30,000 humans worldwide max who are conversant in the ways of Heavy, that means that I’m just kind of out there feeling out of place most of the time. In the end, I was grateful to have the kid to keep focused on. Used to be I just got plastered in situations like that. I can’t honestly endorse one approach over the other. My knee mostly held up as well, so that was a relief.

But it was what it was, a gorgeous day in a gorgeous place, so let’s do the math and reason that my lack of fit in paradise is more about my inner ugliness than anything else related to the circumstance. It was an event filled with cool, nice, people. I just don’t seem to belong anywhere that isn’t this couch or standing in front of a stage being blasted with volume. Also bed.

We got home last night after midnight and I slept until about 6:45. The Pecan woke up shortly after seven (unheard of) and The Patient Mrs. emerged from the bedroom at 8AM sharp. Today is errands and chores, unpacking, laundry, etc., and grocery shopping for the Thanksgiving dinner we’re hosting for family tomorrow. That will be good. I’m glad to be able to do things like that.

If you celebrated Thanksgiving, I hope it was a good one. My travels this week underscored for me America’s ongoing colonialist history, white people being generally terrible, etc., but the actual celebrating of the holiday is among my preferred. A meal with people you love. Could be far worse, even if the narrative behind it — ‘first Thanksgiving’ and all that — is, in the parlance of our times, full on cringe.

Next week is what passes for normal around here, with more premieres slated and this and that. I could look at the notes and list it all if you want? I know Monday is a Pia Isa video premiere that was set up a while ago, and the rest of the week is likewise rad. On a day dedicated to celebrating base commerce, I feel less inclined to plug my own shit, even if it doesn’t involve money exchanging hands. Sometimes I feel like promotion cheapens us all.

On that happy note, here’s a reminder that Gimme Metal airs a new ‘The Obelisk Show’ today at 5PM Eastern. Free to stream on their app or site: http://gimmemetal.com.

Thanks if you check that out and thanks either way for reading. Have a great and safe weekend. Hydrate, watch your head, try to dig your situation if you can. Love if and when you can.

Back Monday.

FRM.

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Tags: At the Dojo Records, California, DRT Entertainment, Fu Manchu, Fu Manchu Start the Machine, San Clemente, Start the Machine

This entry was posted on Friday, November 25th, 2022 at 1:16 pm and is filed under Bootleg Theater. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.