X : Under the Big Black Sun

The mark of a great band is that there is one quintessential aspect that they do better than anyone else and, in turn, defines their music. When bands after even attempt a similar style, it pales in comparison to the originators. The demarcating characteristics become instant touchstones for listeners and can make unheard music immediately describable: Beach Boys’ harmonies, Pavement’s laconic slackerisms, the Ramones’ three-chord-and-under simplicity.

X, without question, has defined the male-female harmony better than any band of the punk era, if not pop music as a whole. Lead singers Exene Cervenka and John Doe’s voices seem to feed off of each other, falling within similar ranges. But both singers have their own distinctive bite, allowing songs in which one takes the lead to be on par with those in which they sing together. Doe’s controlled voice has always had a certain twang, which is further evidenced by the countrified See How We Are and his later solo work. Cervenka’s untrained, wild child wail, in which you can almost hear her multicolored hair and vintage dresses, gave X its edge. But it is when they harmonize, their deep voices melding together to create what sometimes sounds like a singular entity, does X become more than just some punk band, but a force to be reckoned with.

With all due respect to their incredible debut, Los Angeles, it is Under the Big Black Sun on which X transcends their LA punk roots and solidifies them as a truly great band. The story of Under the Big Black Sun is a tragic one. Before recording, Cervenka learned that her sister had been killed by a drunk driver. It is a cliché to say that pain begats great art but a cliché wouldn’t be a cliché if there weren’t some truth behind it. Cervenka’s sister, Mary, is all over the album in songs like “Riding with Mary,” “Come Back to Me,” and “Dancing With Tears in My Eyes.” “Come Back To Me” is a straight-from-the-’50s tale of a died-too-soon ingenue, which in harrowing detail describes the aftermath of Mary’s death. Cervenka recounts crying in the lady’s room before a show and relatives who pretend to grieve for a woman they may never have truly known. Cervenka’s often-bouyant voice sounds on the edge of tears and it is impossible not feel for her as she tries to soldier on despite deep, personal heartache.

But X has the distinction of not allowing grief to overtake the album and Under the Big Black Sun is not bogged down in issues of mortality. Both Los Angeles and Under the Big Black Sun were produced by Doors’ organist Ray Manzarek, but, despite the record’s polished feel, bears less of his mark than their debut, which goes a long way for this writer who has never, ever considered herself to be a Doors’ fan. Gone are Manzarek’s organ noodlings that marred Los Angeles, allowing the band to break out on its own.

Under the Big Black Sun starts out with the rhythmically driven “The Hungry Wolf,” putting Doe’s bass and DJ Bonebreak’s drums at the forefront, and ending with a continuance of Los Angeles‘ class warfare with “The Have Nots.” X is lumped into the LA punk scene because they were in the right time, at the right place, but in sound they are something else entirely. They lacked the speed and vitriol of bands like
Black Flag, the Germs and the Circle Jerks, instead moving at their own respective pace and proving that passion and blind rage are not necessarily one in the same. Yet there is still a forcefulness to the album. On the call-and-response “How I (Learned My Lesson),” Cervenka growls “Distance makes the heart grow fonder / So I never want to see you again.” You better take her word for it, `cause this broad has obviously learned hers.

Under the Big Black Sun continued X’s winning streak and showed adoring fans that they could tackle both the personal and the political with equal vigor. So remember, next time you see a statue of Mary, pray to the punk rock gods that a band will be as mind blowingly awesome as X was. Or just pop in Under the Big Black Sun and understand that no band will ever come close.

Similar Albums:
Gun Club – Fire of Love
Black Flag – Damaged
Pretty Girls Make Graves – Good Health

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