Like a lot of difficult, strange, or abstract music, Captain Beefheart has always been a love-it-or-hate-it proposition. I've officially ran the gamut of reactions to his music--well, the albums I've heard anyway--from "what the hell is this?!" to "is this a joke??" to "joke or not, I like it" to "this is awesome!!" to "do I just like this because I'm drunk??" to "do I just like this because it's so unlike anything else??" to "man, it's funny playing this around people who aren't prepared for it" to "OK, yeah, this is great." I feel like I've spent as much time, if not more time, thinking about his music than I have listening to it. Perhaps that is part of my fascination with it and similar artists like Pere Ubu, Frank Zappa, and Man Man: they force you to reconsider your notions of what is and isn't music, what can and can't be a rhythm or melody, what structure (if any) is necessary, and finally, just how we react to music that piece by piece or all at once subverts our expectations about music.
Lick My Decals Off, Baby is the follow-up to Trout Mask Replica, a nearly mythical album that still astounds and confounds almost 40 years later. Though in my opinion it's not Beefheart's best, Lick My Decals Off, Baby is worthy of similar praise and recognition. Where Trout set the table with an insane mix of avant garde, free jazz, rock, old fashioned blues, and Beefheart's indescribable voice that ranges from low growls to high pitched shrieks, Lick My Decals refines the sound by paring down to a single album and stripping away some of the bizarre instrumentation, while subsequently adding the sublime marimba of Art Tripp. With all of this comes a change in tone: Lick My Decals feels and sounds less playful and absurdist, toughening up and having a more bitter/cynical lyrical bent.
To try to describe the sound of the album is almost impossible. Somewhere between free jazz and late 60s/early 70s rock, Lick My Decals Off, Baby moves from the mindblowing instrumental showcases like 'One Red Rose That I Mean' to the blusey-but-warped 'The Buggy Boogie Woogie' to the frantic freak-outs like 'Doctor Dark' and 'The Clouds Are Full of Wine (not Whiskey or Rye).' You really must experience Captain Beefheart's music for yourself to get what it's all about, because there is very little precedent or basis for comparison.
Therein lies the genius of the album, and the reason you'll either love or hate it. This truly is one of those cases where one man's genius is another man's charlatan. Either Captain Beefheart is an intensely creative person who recorded some of the most sublime and unique music of the 20th century, or he's an overrated trash merchant who people say they like in order to seem cool or ahead of trends. I fall on the pro side of the debate, though almost everyone I know hates him.
On a side note, Lick My Decals Off, Baby is currently out of print on CD. So if you really want to hear this, you'll have to get a record player and track it down. I assure you that if you like Captain Beefheart, it's worth the trouble.
I don't feel as though much more needs to be said about this album. In my estimation it's not as good as Trout Mask Replica, but it's still essential listening for fans of Captain Beefheart, and anyone who enjoys bizarre, experimental music.
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