It Begins

I like loud guitars that sound blurry.






The Straitjacket Fits were my first realy 'guitar' band per se that I really followed. It all began when I purchased their self-titled greatest hits for a xmas present for my sister. Subsequently after further listening I decided to gift the album to myself rather than my sister which started my obsession with the band - as well as further incidents of poor graturity.

More importantly -this song is a Flying Nun staple. One could label Carter as the 'Johnny Rotton' to Chris Knox as 'Iggy' in terms of the punk/Flying Nun scene of the eighties in NZ.


The song its splattered with highlights: Shayne Carters - sneering vocals, the chrisp Jesus and Mary Chain guitars and pulsating bass line all combine to form a unrelenting mix. The guitars are constanly chiming, assisting Cartner's sneers in the verses. No loud quiet loud approach, everything is kept LOUD LOUD. Lyrically Carters cyanism and agnst is typically in your face. Whether its in the beginning

"theres hawks on our shoulders more ciculing lower, we're letting them peck at the back of our necks, what more could we want?"

Or latter with when Carter spits out: "Plip plop, drip drop The tap drips on my heat rot...So much to tend to that nothings getting done"

and my favourite - some warped Leonard Cohen-esque commentary (whom the band also cover on the Hail LP) - "Pushing and jabbing, the mouths that are stabbing, The Lines of Lost lovers, What more could we want?"


Additionally the way song jams out to an ending really gives it an organic quality, despite the preceding verse chorus verse structure.


It's really a - 'says and means nothing - but actually says and expresses everything' sorta song and exists as a physical record of how bad ass Shanye Carter really is. As a critic for Melody Maker once said "Straitjacket Fits are the weirdest guitar band in the world, they are also the best!"