Jawbox Albums (4)
What The Critics Say
Aside from slicker production from John Agnello and more direct lyrics, not much separates Jawbox's only non-transitional record from For Your Own Special Sweetheart. It could be argued that the band could have gotten a little too comfortable playing together or just plain too damn skilled. At times it sounds so effortless that you wonder if they could have sleepwalked their way through the recording. Granted they never sound as if the passion isn't there, but the clean, dirt-free production might detract from that to a casual listener's ears. The band's arrangements are just as strong as ever, perhaps more so. But another issue is an apparent too-worked-over nature. Were overdubbed acoustic guitars really needed? Were all those additional layers really necessary? They sound like a kid who breezes through an anatomy exam, finishing half an hour before anyone else -- the kid decides to stay at his desk and scribble the internal organs of a nurse shark, rather than risk the embarrassment of looking like such a smarty-pants to the rest of the class. More frustrating than anything else was that the slicker-sounding record left no impact on modern rock radio. But then again, just how many Top 40 hits deal with topics like all the B.S. and fake national pride U.S. students are fed in their history classes? And how many times do you hear a song with schizo time signatures and a chorus that goes something like "Take the big man down/Forktie/Chump crown"? It's no "Semi-Charmed Life," after all. Though this sadly ended up being the band's swan song, there really was no way for the band to top themselves. No point in going back to college when you graduated magna cum laude. ~ Andy Kellman, All Music Guide
'For Your Own Special Sweetheart'
Release Date 2/4/1994
Tracks 13
Label Atlantic
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Indie purists reflexively moaned -- and, in one documented case, hoped for the band’s vehicular death -- once word spread of Jawbox's Atlantic deal. No band had left the sacred Dischord label for a major prior to Jawbox, so it was seen by some as an unforgivable crime against D.I.Y. The move, inconsequential from a creative standpoint, was the betrayed's loss. The band's first album for the bad guys represents their peak, a thrilling collision of vibrant guitar-generated noise and off-center melodic hooks over a rhythm section that swings as easily as it pummels. Not transitional merely in the label-of-release sense, For Your Own Special Sweetheart introduced new drummer Zach Barocas, whose intricate style is as punishing as necessary for any post-hardcore band while more inspired by jazz heavyweights Tony Williams and Jack DeJohnette than any punk. Kim Coletta’s bass, present enough in the mix to be compared to a variety of power tools, rumbles with a richness and dexterity that was only hinted at on the band’s prior releases, while the guitar interplay between Bill Barbot and J. Robbins, colorful and dynamic, alternates between ringing/tingling and needling/careening. This all produces an album that is heavy on songs that gracefully batter and flit unpredictably between mid-tempo and charging speeds. Whether pushed along by the addition of Barocas or the band’s general development, FYOSS also contains a pair of slower, subtle songs that are just as compelling as the aggressive material. Robbins’ lyrics, as cerebral and inscrutable as ever, and more about sound than meaning, are at least decipherable throughout the muscular, corrosive jangle-pop of “Savory” (about the objectification of women), the appropriately rush-inducing “Jackpot Plus!” (the futility of gambling), and “Motorist” (disorientation after a car crash, inspired by J.G. Ballard’s Concrete Island). Otherwise, a Jawbox decoder ring is necessary. (For example, a Jawbox-to-punk translation of “Technicolored static sender/Second guess my love for danger” could be “I’m a couch potato/Couch potato, ungh!”) More importantly, don’t forget to wear a neck brace. Inside or outside its D.C. epicenter, this is one of post-hardcore’s most exceptional releases, second to whatever Fugazi album gives you the biggest charge. ~ Andy Kellman, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Novelty ushered in second guitarist and vocalist Bill Barbot, immediately bolstering Jawbox's might. Differing from the debut, the guitars are sharper and the riffs are more concise. Less straight-ahead, the record is also more dynamic, benefiting from more varied material. The only negative aspect is Iain Burgess' murky production. Normally an outstanding producer, Burgess gives Novelty a bizarre din that frustrates in places. Adam Wade's drums sound a bit canned, and J. Robbins' vocals sound too "from the depths" on occasion. It's still a marked improvement over Grippe, with Wade and bassist Kim Coletta sounding more in tune with each other; Barbot immediately proves to be the perfect foil for Robbins, engaging in some excellent guitar joust throughout. Lyrically, Robbins gets more abstract. (He also screams a bit more, but in a well-controlled manner.) Less introspective perhaps, songs like the excellent "Static" (one of the band's finest moments) seem to tackle one-on-one issues. Otherwise, who knows exactly what Robbins is addressing? Definitely not cut and dry, the songs certainly leave themselves open to any form of interpretation, but how do you decode lines like "I've got this syllable sickness called the six second blues/No doubt quixotic talk has been subsumed"? Sounds neat, so go with it. Novelty is transformed from a good record to a great one with the addition of the "Tongues" single. Full of dense swirls of swooping guitars, only to be ejected by a thick riff (the intro almost sounds like the Smiths' "How Soon Is Now"), the song separates the band from their D.C./Chicago roots while clinging to them at the same time. Call it My Bloody Minor Raygun. ~ Andy Kellman, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Essentially recorded after getting enough songs together to fill out a 12" chunk of vinyl, Grippe's achievement was obscured increasingly after each successive Jawbox LP. That doesn't prevent it from being an enjoyable, albeit introspectively brutal record. J. Robbins might address a "you" during "Paint Out the Light" and "Tools and Chrome," but a self-flagellating nature can be detected throughout. That's what initially separated the band from their post-hardcore peers; instead of railing against authority and other oppressors, Jawbox pointed the finger at themselves. Musically it's their least distinct, marrying the earlier crunchy side of Joy Division with Throb Throb-era Naked Raygun. It's a pretty convincing synthesis, pulled off well by relative newcomers Kim Coletta (bass) and Adam Wade (drums), who sound well-honed enough for Robbins' effective Chicago-derived (NR, Effigies, etc.) guitar. Though most of the record doesn't require a skip button, the true highlight is a cover of Joy Division's "Something Must Break." Where Ian Curtis sounded typically cold and detached on the original, Robbins gradually boils over with each successive verse, draining any possible emotion from the song. As far as taking a song to another level, it rivals Hüsker Dü's explosive cover of the Byrds' "Eight Miles High." Overall, a promising debut. [The CD version adds the band's debut 7" EP, featuring two early versions of Grippe songs and another rackety self-browbeater, "Twister."] ~ Andy Kellman, All Music Guide
