Behold a record that hits hard enough it kind of feels ironic to have a soft spot for it. Fu Manchu released We Must Obey in 2007 through Liquor and Poker Music, which at the time was a Century Media imprint that also put out Nebula, The Hellacopters, Fireball Ministry and the Scott Reeder (Kyuss, The Obsessed, etc.) solo record, among others. Really, it was the first of two offerings Fu Manchu would make through Century Media, and I think if you take it on the sheer level of its tones, We Must Obey is the heaviest album Fu Manchu have released to-date.

Comprising 11 songs running 36 minutes, We Must Obey almost inevitably feels like a marked and purposeful contrast to 2004’s Start the Machine (discussed here). It was co-produced by the band and Andrew Alekel (The Company Band, Fireball Ministry, Kyng, Velvet Revolver, etc.), and for a group whose sound is so vividly realized — who have such a clear internally-defined style, who know who they are as a band and what they want to do — it is an outlier from records before and after. Since their start, and even unto the cleaner production sound of Start the Machine, and even here, Fu Manchu retained some traceable connection to their punk rock roots.

We Must Obey does this as well, but with a more aggressive take than ever before, and with a thickness of tone that, for the first time, sees the band keyed in for largesse more than movement. If that sounds like a splitting-hairs difference, I’ll argue it isn’t. “Land of Giants” has all the more stride for it, and faster pieces like “Let Me Out” and “Between the Lines” come across as more cacophonous for all the heft of distortion being thrown around in the guitars of Scott Hill and Bob Balch, as well as, crucially, Brad Davis‘ bass. Having brought on drummer Scott Reeder (not the same one; this one’s solo record as Jacket Thief came out in ’23) ahead of the LP prior, they held onto the flexibility of groove that Brant Bjork had helped bring to their sound and turned that funk into the massive nod that rounds out here in “Sensei vs. Sensei,” and the sleek roll drawn out against the push of “Lesson,” not quite as brash as the leadoff title-track — it’s not aggro or sharp-cornered enough to be metal, but neither is it far off — but groovier and offering something else.

But if you’re looking for the most consistent factor in their work — and already in 2007 they had 17 years across which to establish consistency — it’s not the fuzz or the Southern Californian skater/surfer/slacker vibing. It’s songwriting. No matter what the ultimate shape of a given album is, in terms of the recording sound or thematic intent, Fu Manchu have always been a song-based band from 1994’s No One Rides for Free (discussed here) onward, and as they hammered out over those early records both the lineup around Hill as the founding member and the parameters of their sound and aesthetic — straightforward, no pretense, not at all without a performance aspect — it was the songs that carried them through those changes, and when you think of Fu Manchu, it’s the songs you think of, whatever era of the band they might be from.

And to answer back to the opening above, I do have a soft spot for We Must Obey. I remember getting it after hearing Start the Machine and being struck by the turnaround. After what had seemed to be a more commercial turn, here came Fu Manchu and they weren’t just hitting it harder than they ever had, but doing it with a killer batch of songs one after the other: “We Must Obey” into “Knew it All Along” into “Let Me Out” into “Hung Out to Dry” into “Shake it Loose” and “Land of Giants.” That’s a side A that as far as I’m concerned stands up to anything in their catalog to which you might want to compare it, and as side B makes its way to “Sensei vs. Sensei” through “Between the Lines,” “Lesson,” the The Cars cover “Moving in Stereo” — a song made a generational landmark by Phoebe Cates’ exposure in Fast Times at Ridgemont High; very much an aesthetically suitable piece for them to take on, and a riff they make their own — and the penultimate “Didn’t Really Try,” they keep momentum as well as memorability on their side.

Being their eighth or ninth record (depending on what you count) and coming 13 years on from their first, I’m not sure it would’ve been fair to expect Fu Manchu to introduce any really radically new ideas to their sound, but within the context of what they do, We Must Obey does that anyhow. In terms of their influence, one is more likely to see records like 1996’s In Search Of… (discussed here) — they have a 30th anniversary edition coming soon — or 1997’s The Action is Go (discussed here) cited. We Must Obey feels more in league with 2000’s King of the Road (discussed here), adding charge to the deeper fuzz that LP wrought but emphasizing craft through things like subtle changes in tempo, the dynamic between Hill and Balch on guitar, and Davis‘ bass tone. It’s still very much a Fu Manchu album, but it also expanded the definition of what that means when it came out.

I’m not about picking favorites and if you’re a ’90s-epoch hyperfan, I know better than to argue. What I would advise is that if you’re going to take on We Must Obey, do it with fresh ears and a consideration for the winding path that brought Fu Manchu to that point, from hardcore punk to pioneering fuzzy roll and ever-refined processes. At the time, it showed there was still life in their riffy shove, and that reassurance shouldn’t be discounted, but in hindsight it holds up even stronger among the best of their discography. Don’t be surprised if, after making your way through it once, you don’t find yourself going back around for another go.

As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.

—

Friday. I am duly fried. I spent a decent portion of yesterday beating myself up because I didn’t end up having time to write the Kal-El review and that’s my fault anyway. I had to take my mother to the doctor, then pick up the kid. But yeah I should be able to work with both infinite time and infinite energy at the expense of the rest of my life for the tenuous reward of… this. And when I can’t, or even when I just don’t want to, that’s definitely something I should feel bad about. Also I should feel bad about when I do it, because that’s time I could probably spend cleaning the house, having a job, or failing that, being a better parent. That’s Obelisking 17 years on, for an audience that I’m pretty sure is largely imaginary.

Today begins The Pecan’s spring break — tavaszi szünet, in Hungarian, as I learned this week — and it will go through the end of next week. Accordingly, don’t be surprised if next week is one or two posts a day instead of three or four. I have some things I need to get done, but want to be around for the kid who probably will blow me off and go play with Legos anyway, as is developmentally appropriate and sad in kind, eight going on 14 as she is. The break, in any case, will be good for her.

We had a call with some of the administrator-level folks from the school district as part of our ongoing wtf-do-we-do-about-schooling-this-kid efforts. Our application for the previously discussed half-hour-away private 2E-specializing place is in, and suddenly yesterday we were pitched putting her in fourth grade math (she’s in second grade), which is where she apparantly scored on whatever assessment it was. Hilarious because when I proposed putting her even one year ahead in math last year in order to challenge her and build interest I was told flat-out “we can’t do that.” Direct quote. Start talking about making the district shell out tuition money to provide a free, fair and appropriate public education to this child and the realm of the possible seems to expand at a word. How about that.

I don’t know if we’re going to do that and I’m not sure the shiny jiggling keys of manifesting a prior desperate request will be enough to distract from the very real structural concerns at root in The Pecan’s issues in her current educational setting, between the sensory overwhelm of too-crowded classes and the sit-in-this-chair-and-pay-attention learning model in which she’s neither interested nor neurologically suited to thrive. It’s been three years of ‘let’s try this now’ flailing and as much as I relish the convenience and community engagement of having her in the local public school, I’m not willing to trade her getting the most she can out of these years and have her end up feeling like all she learned in school was how to feel bad about herself when there might be a better way to start with.

Those conversations will continue after break, presumably at some point in-person, maybe with the advocate we have kind of hanging out in our back pocket. I’ve never done this before, so I’m at something of a disadvantage as regards process.

No huge plans for next week. The Patient Mrs. has work — her spring break was a couple weeks ago; she took students to Italy and worked super-hard the whole time, thereby resulting in no break at all — so it’ll be me and the kid. I’ll wake up earlier hopefully to write. I tried to get up at 5:15 this AM and it just didn’t take. Tomorrow I’ll try for six, then 5:30, then five on Monday to get me where I want to be for a week where I’ll need all the time I can take to write because once the day starts I probably won’t get a lot of time. I don’t know that I’ll review that Kal-El, or the C.O.C., which is next on my list, or what, but I’ve got premieres set for We Follow the Earth, Hylko, Slow Draw and Prophet and Flesh, and I’m also going to see Clutch and C.O.C. at Starland Ballroom next Thursday, which will be fun and needed in kind.

Later this afternoon, we’re going to a circus that’s apparently set up in a tent in the parking lot of the Rockaway Mall, which I’m thinking will not be fun because to me the circus isn’t a good time as much as it’s like casual animal and/or human abuse and the kind of thing parents do with kids because it’s like ‘shrug are you old enough to have a human conversation yet no okay well let’s go kill time at the circus until you are.’ I’m sure there are people who actively enjoy that kind of thing, or it wouldn’t be happening — let alone happening in such an in-demand locale — and I get that the Flying Wallendas are impressive, but it’s cold, and rainy, and I’d rather not.

But you go. Because maybe the kid will have some life-epiphany or whatever and it turns out that it’s the single moment defining her in some pivotal way like the angle of the acrobat led her to discover the theory of everything and you weren’t there because you have an anxiety disorder and felt better staying home drinking seltzer and playing Zelda, so try to stave off feeling like a dipshit for the rest of your own life — which surely you’ll find some other way to do anyhow — you go to the fucking circus. Look, a clown.

I wish you a great, safe and well-hydrated weekend, whatever you’re up to. I’ll be back Monday with, I don’t know, probably more complaining. Fuck fascism. Fuck oil companies. Fuck the monsters who think raping children is a small price to pay to serve their hate. Fuck the gender binary. Fuck capitalism. Fuck every CEO. On and on. So much fucking. You’d think it would be a better time, generally.

FRM.

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Tags: California, Century Media, Fu Manchu, Fu Manchu We Must Obey, San Clemente, We Must Obey

This entry was posted on Friday, April 3rd, 2026 at 11:05 am and is filed under Bootleg Theater. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.