Sometimes the list of influences a band cites are so bewildering and diverse, one is left dazed instead of informed. So, when Johnny 5th Wheel & the Cowards, a band who describe their sound as 'Music Hall/Skiffle/Swing collective from the North-West' state that their influences include Harry Nilsson, Anthony Newley, Love, The White Album, Burt Bacharach, John Tenniel, Kurt Vonnegut and Jake Thackray - some of which I adore, some of which I don't, and some of which I either haven't heard of or couldn't care less about, I have no idea if this is a good thing. More to the point, from all of this, I really haven't a clue what their album, 'Tales of...' might actually sound like.
Y'see, I like po-mo hybridity and intertextuality, the idea of infinite crossovers and the abolition of genre distinctions and all the rest. I like the incongruous and unexpected juxtapositions such egalitarian absorption, assimilation and cross-pollination yields. In the end, it's not the sources of inspiration that count, but how they're used. If executed well, it can be a true wonder, something to marvel at. Done badly, it's a painful mess, infinitely less than the sum of the parts.
It's as pleasant as it is surprising, then, to report that 'Tales of Johnny 5th Wheel & the Cowards' is a work of genius. From the brooding instrumental introduction of 'Following the Wheel (Part 1),' its straight into 'Brotherly Love' a twisted folk murder ballad that comes on like Marc Almond at his best, a dark, violin-drenched psychodrama that's enough to make me perspire.
'Thee Illusionist' sits in the murky dark sleazepop cabaret territory between Soft Cell and David Devant and His Spirit Wife. 'You can blow your smoke and mirrors up your arse / I tell you / It's not magic any more if you tell us how it's done,' and sets the tone for much of the set.
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Theatrical lyrical flourishes abound, but there's a wit and wordplay involved that elevate the songs above the corny and to a higher level of entertainment. Take for example, 'it drives me to distraction / like a fairground attraction / but attraction to you is so very fleeting / like a passing greeting / at an annual boardroom meeting... I'm a jealous Matador / And I don't take no bull from you' (from 'Jealous Matador'). Genius! Why? Because it's not only clever and knowing, and in some respects knowlingly bad, which takes courage, but it's delivered in a way that conveys all of this and more, and that's a real skill.
'Man Who Ate Badgers' is a song about dining on roadkill, delivered in the style of Jacques Brel, while 'Little Red Hen' takes a folked-up detour into the territory of Aesop's Fables, albeit with a twist. Quirky and inventive, clever and often very funny, 'Tales of...' doesn't sound like a contemporary album, but then nor does it sound exactly of the times it draws its musical inspirations. This is a good thing, and for this reason I take my hat off to Johnny 5th Wheel and his cohorts, who are definitely no cowards when it comes to tackling musical challenges.
Johnny 5th Wheel on Myspace
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