Playing with emotions in only 30 minutes

Editor's Note: This semester Ryan Whirty will write about good music \nthat goes unnoticed.\nIn many ways, I am a very stubborn man. For years, when asked to name the best rock albums of the 1970s, I would give the same three answers: Who's Next by the Who, Exile on Main Street by the Stones and Rust Never Sleeps by Neil Young. That's it. Period. I would consider nothing else. I was without pity or remorse.\nHowever, a couple of years ago I came across a $1 vinyl copy of Warren Zevon's Excitable Boy, released in 1978. It had "Werewolves of London" on it, and I also thought that song was kinda neat, if a bit goofy. So I bought it.\nI have since changed my ways. Excitable Boy is easily one of the best albums of its decade and perhaps the finest example of singer-songwriter craftsmanship of the pop-rock era.\nNot that it's a normal album, mind you. The songs Zevon packed on the disc are quirky and even macabre. They're twisted portraits of hapless fools, bizarre oddities and vicious badasses, standing in sharp contrast to the dreamy, mellow work of softer singer-songwriters like James Taylor, Carole King and even the often happy-go-lucky songs of Paul Simon and Young.\nThe first side of Excitable Boy, especially, blends brilliant pop sensibilities and a warped, schizophrenic imagination. It begins with the cheery "Johnny Strikes Up the Band," a jaunty tune about a songster who can "put your mind at ease" and brings "jubilation in the land."\nBut the up-tempo mood is suddenly and brusquely dampened by the foreboding opening notes of "Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner," the tale of a Scandinavian mercenary who signs up to fight in the war in the Congo. The CIA persuades one of Roland's peers to kill him. "That son of a bitch Van Owen," Zevon sighs, "blew off Roland's head."\nRoland, still headless, then stalks the continent of Africa seeking revenge, eventually tracking Van Owen down in a bar in Mombassa. In a sickly surrealistic scene, Roland then blows Van Owen's body "from there to Johannesburg." The song ends with Roland still on the prowl -- in Ireland, in Lebanon, in Palestine.\nThe mood then shifts again, this time with the title cut. We're introduced to the "excitable boy" right away: "Well, he went down to dinner in his Sunday best / Excitable boy, they all said / And he rubbed the pot roast all over his chest / Excitable boy, they all said." The lyrics are backed by a buoyant, 1950s-style rave up, with a chorus ooh-ing in perfect girl-group fashion.\nThe song progresses, and we watch the excitable boy bite a movie usherette's leg during a show. He then takes Suzie to the junior prom and ends up raping and killing her. The stark, even creepy lyrics stand in sharp contrast to the ebullient music, creating and eerie paradox that revolts and mesmerizes at the same time.\n"After 10 long years they let him out of the home," Zevon continues. "And he dug up her grave and built a cage with her bones / Excitable boy, they all said." Like Roland, the excitable boy never changes.\nThen comes "Werewolves," Zevon's most popular song and the one most people recognize. It's punctuated by Zevon's off-key howling during the chorus. The werewolf eats beef chow mein in Soho, sips a pina colada at Trader Vic's -- and mutilates a little old lady. Not exactly Britney Spears or Limp Bizkit (or any other pop drivel now on the charts).\nThe side ends with another sharp twist of atmosphere as Zevon suddenly turns serious and solemn for the ballad "Accidentally Like a Martyr." Gone are the mercenaries and werewolves; all that remains is Zevon's sad vocals and heartfelt outpouring of lost love. "The phone don't ring / And the sun refused to shine / Never thought I'd have to pay so dearly / For what was already mine," Zevon sings, the hurt flowing forth. He concludes depressingly, "The hurt gets worse and the heart gets harder."\nThe second half of the album is strong as well, especially "Tenderness on the Block," a world-weary lament for a mother and father whose daughter is growing up too fast.\nThe album then concludes with a major bang -- "Lawyers, Guns and Money," which could very well be the strongest and most perfectly-crafted rock song of the last quarter-century.\nIt tells the tale of a luckless sap who gets into trouble south of the border and pleads for his father to solve his steep problems. He goes home with a waitress without realizing "she was with the Russians too" and risks too much gambling in Havana. "Send lawyers, guns and money," he cries. "Dad, get me out of this."\nBacked by a balls-out supporting cast of Waddy Wachtel (guitars), Kenny Edwards (bass) and Rick Marotta (drums), Zevon tears into the final verse, in which the beleaguered son makes one last pitch to Dad: "Now I'm hiding in Honduras / I'm a desperate man / Send lawyers, guns and money / The shit has hit the fan."\nOverall, what's most amazing about Excitable Boy is the fact that it manages to cover so much emotional and psychological ground in just over 30 minutes. The listener is introduced to a cast of characters who represent the highs and lows of human existence. Few albums have managed to do that -- and even fewer have done it with such a deliciously personal flair as Zevon's.