Jay Reatard
A tale of two offensive band names
Back when I was in high school, a group of kids had started a band and had called themselves, in perfect adolescent insolence, “Madame Plotte” which, translated, means, in not so many words, “Missus Cunt.” When the administration heard of their colourful moniker, they forbade the band from doing any shows or using any of the practice halls unless they changed their name.
I’m not sure how it turned out because I wasn’t cool enough to be in the loop, but I can’t help of think of Madame Plotte every time I hear the name “Jay Reatard.” See, I figure that if Jay Reatard had come to play at my high school, the administration would have likely insisted he change his name for the performance, maybe to “Jay Dummy” or “Jay Cognitive Disability.”
But, whatever, we’re here about the music, right? Especially good music, too, which is why we’re on Reatard’s subject anyway.
This is a guy who takes his cues from the fertile grounds of 1990s garage punk rock, letting his raw, frantic energy bluster with unflagging vehemence, vigorously igniting See/Saw with cocky panache as the gusting guitars crunch with feverish drive and the drums skip along at breakneck cadence. Yet despite the song’s jarring acumen, Reatard operates with commanding melodious discernment, and his snotty voicework is dangerously infectious, making the song just as memorable for its catchy nature as it is for its balls-out verve.
So I guess the point it that it’s really all about the music, regardless of what one’s name is. He could call himself Jay Dumpsterbaby for all I care, as long as songs like See/Saw keep coming our way.
jayreatard.blogspot.com
myspace.com/jayreatard
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