Cracker - Cracker (1992)
It’s not quite accurate to say that in 1992 Cracker burst onto the scene with their self-titled debut album, more like they just showed up drunk in a decrepit Pinto running on fumes. Nevertheless, from the opening rift on the driving “Teen Angst (What the World Needs Now),” it’s clear that they are amazingly here to stay.
Born of David Lowery (from Camper Van Beethoven), Johnny Hickman (from The Unforgiven), and David Faragher (from who knows where), Cracker helped to flush-out the 90s roots rock revival, adding needed satire to the mostly dark and bare imagery of the genre. While the band’s sound has virtually remained a constant throughout their career (and they certainly establish that here), Cracker finds the band a little more on the country side of things (as opposed to the slightly punkish nuances of their subsequent efforts). But keep in mind that 1992 was the year of alt-country, and the band’s implement of acoustic vibes is done so with the greatest care, taking none of the fun away from an excellent debut.
“Teen Angst” is an obvious classic and gets the album and band off to a rousing opening, even if its upbeat nature isn’t very indicative of the rest of album. But the classics don’t end there; next to come is “Happy Birthday to Me,” a drunken ode to oneself, complete with a lazy harmonica for the exuberant sod in all of us. These two tracks alone cemented Cracker’s position at the forefront of the roots/rock movement, and the rest of the album justifies it. But what’s truly amazing about Cracker, is that all of the characteristics that have since defined the band’s personality are all well established here. Being perfectly frank (but in the best way possible), Cracker has been Cracker since day one, and there’re better for that. All of their elements and eccentricities are here: roots-rock sensibility, absurd lyrics, multiple vice references and above all, self deprecation soaked in irony. These guys aren’t dumb, they just act like it. And if Cracker has all of the essentials, then this album runs the classic Cracker gambit of songs. There are the drunken rockers (“Teen Angst” and “Satisfy You”); there are the drunken ballads (“St. Cajetan” and “Another Song About The Rain”); there are the drunken ramblers (“Happy Birthday” and “Mr. Wrong”); and the drunken self-referential yodel-fests (“This Is Cracker Soul”). There’s even a shantyesque tune that could have inspired The Decemberists (“Dr. Bernice”). Of course, Cracker’s penchant for amusing song titles is alive and kicking, especially with the excellent folk ballad “Can I Take My Gun to Heaven” and the lone punker “Don’t Fuck Me Up (With Peace and Love).” It’s all here, and in great form, meaning that Cracker ranks as one of the band’s best albums (arguably second only to their sophomore offering Kerosene Hat (1993)).
Despite Cracker’s fame being ephemeral, they got off to a great start with this feel-good debut. But what’s really important about Cracker is how much fun it is; it’s not very often that you come across an album that just makes you laugh, but that’s the case here and you would be hard pressed to find a more enjoyable selection of pop-music outside of the Yankovic camp. Indeed, Cracker had us at “I think I’ll go and fix myself a tall one.”
Born of David Lowery (from Camper Van Beethoven), Johnny Hickman (from The Unforgiven), and David Faragher (from who knows where), Cracker helped to flush-out the 90s roots rock revival, adding needed satire to the mostly dark and bare imagery of the genre. While the band’s sound has virtually remained a constant throughout their career (and they certainly establish that here), Cracker finds the band a little more on the country side of things (as opposed to the slightly punkish nuances of their subsequent efforts). But keep in mind that 1992 was the year of alt-country, and the band’s implement of acoustic vibes is done so with the greatest care, taking none of the fun away from an excellent debut.
“Teen Angst” is an obvious classic and gets the album and band off to a rousing opening, even if its upbeat nature isn’t very indicative of the rest of album. But the classics don’t end there; next to come is “Happy Birthday to Me,” a drunken ode to oneself, complete with a lazy harmonica for the exuberant sod in all of us. These two tracks alone cemented Cracker’s position at the forefront of the roots/rock movement, and the rest of the album justifies it. But what’s truly amazing about Cracker, is that all of the characteristics that have since defined the band’s personality are all well established here. Being perfectly frank (but in the best way possible), Cracker has been Cracker since day one, and there’re better for that. All of their elements and eccentricities are here: roots-rock sensibility, absurd lyrics, multiple vice references and above all, self deprecation soaked in irony. These guys aren’t dumb, they just act like it. And if Cracker has all of the essentials, then this album runs the classic Cracker gambit of songs. There are the drunken rockers (“Teen Angst” and “Satisfy You”); there are the drunken ballads (“St. Cajetan” and “Another Song About The Rain”); there are the drunken ramblers (“Happy Birthday” and “Mr. Wrong”); and the drunken self-referential yodel-fests (“This Is Cracker Soul”). There’s even a shantyesque tune that could have inspired The Decemberists (“Dr. Bernice”). Of course, Cracker’s penchant for amusing song titles is alive and kicking, especially with the excellent folk ballad “Can I Take My Gun to Heaven” and the lone punker “Don’t Fuck Me Up (With Peace and Love).” It’s all here, and in great form, meaning that Cracker ranks as one of the band’s best albums (arguably second only to their sophomore offering Kerosene Hat (1993)).
Despite Cracker’s fame being ephemeral, they got off to a great start with this feel-good debut. But what’s really important about Cracker is how much fun it is; it’s not very often that you come across an album that just makes you laugh, but that’s the case here and you would be hard pressed to find a more enjoyable selection of pop-music outside of the Yankovic camp. Indeed, Cracker had us at “I think I’ll go and fix myself a tall one.”
4/5
"'Cause what the world needs now / Are some true words of wisdom / Like la la la la la la la la la"
McS
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