The twisted sketches of King Missile III come to Knoxville
by Liz Tapp
King Missile III would like to thank Jennifer Love Hewitt for her silence concerning the tragedy of September 11. "She has shown unbelievable restraint during this entire crises. I haven't heard her say a single irresponsible word," songwriter, singer John S. Hall proposes in the song "JLH" in a deadpan delivery. "Thank you Jennifer Love Hewitt. Thank you for your brave and steadfast silence."
Twisted irony like this is a specialty of King Missile III and there's a healthy dose of it in their newest release, The Psychopathology of Everyday Life. The album is made of satire that, intentionally, doesn't quite add up. Sprinkled with half-truths, the songs' satire is left abstracted, not easily pinned down. Dialogue between the comfortable and uncomfortable has always been a forte of Hall.
Songs like "Detachable Penis"—a cult hit about a man who misplaces his removable penis during a night of drinking and frantically searches for it, only to find a street vendor hawking it—twist a subversive discomfort into the song's calm delivery.
The newest album also consists of similar dualities. The CD's creation was split over two periods of time. It was begun prior to Hall's entrance into law school and then completed after his graduation. The effect of these separate creative intervals is evident. The earlier, methodical songs contrast with the more recently penned songs' spontaneous eruptions.
That spirit reflects the rock shows Hall went to as a teenager, by bands that couldn't sing or play their instruments all that well, but still moved their audiences. Until then, Hall says, "I didn't think I could be a recording artist because I couldn't sing all that well."
Just as the sloppy imperfection of those bands inspired Hall, he hopes "the mediocrity of King Missile will inspire other people."
When I asked Hall what pathologies he was most concerned with, he told me that "most of the time it starts internally. I think about my own pathologies, because I try not to be too accusative." On this album he does attack the president, but that sentiment is more about his own internal reactions, he says.
"There's a little bit of disappointment that I can still get so upset," he says, while admitting that the process of getting angry can be a strong one. "Obviously there's a lot of outside influence here. The elections of 2000 deeply, deeply upset me. And the political situation for the last two years has been almost heartbreaking."
King Missile's music refuses to calm that frustration in rants like "The President," which escalate in a fury of name calling, swearing and helplessness.
That frustration and futility is applicable to the current political situation. George Bush's recent comment that "protest is irrelevant" not only denies the power of the first amendment, but its sentiment stifles what's at the core of expression like Hall's.
"I didn't think the protests were aimed directly at Bush at all," Hall says. "It was more of a global demonstration, everyone in the world going out at the same time to protest the war, to give a sense of unity. There are a lot of people, across the planet, who don't want this. I didn't expect to directly change Bush's mind, but the very fact that he would even mention the protestors and say that, to me, was surprising. He wouldn't even have any reason to mention them if there wasn't some relevance.
"Usually when there's a lot of hypocrisy, or out and out lying, satire almost writes itself." he says. When reading Paul Krugman's New York Times column, Hall can't help but see the lists of political lies as waiting satirical sketches "that would be funny if it wasn't all so sad." With the lack of sincerity at present, perhaps what we need is thick dose of satire.
Hall warns that show goers should try to preview some of King Missile III's music to make sure it's their thing. "I mean it is spoken word and music, the kind of thing that you don't get really drunk and dance to. You just have a drink or two and sit down and listen, or stand and listen. It's narratives, poems, tirades, so people should be prepared for that."
Not to scare off listeners, as Hall and myself also "really like the music" that is behind his songs. One of King Missile III's musicians, Bradford Reed, will be opening the show accompanied by the pencilina, an eight-string electric instrument of his own invention that "sounds like nothing anyone has heard." John S. Hall advises us to come early "and hear the mind blowing sounds of Bradford Reed."
March 6, 2003 * Vol. 13, No. 10
© 2003 Metro Pulse
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