Word: beaujon
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...probably didn't say Eggs at the Middle East last Sunday. Your loss; this Arlington, VA trio--singer/ guitarist Andrew Beaujon, bass second guitarist/trombonist Rob Christiansen, plus a rotating corps of helpful temporary drummers--has been touring up and down the East Coast for a couple year now, wowing tiny rock clubs (or at least the people who stand around in them) with an ever-varying mixture of instrumental comedy and soulfully complicated pop. They've also been releasing records, largely on the DC label Teen Beat; their latest is a multifaceted opus called Exploder. We (the columnar "we") caught...
...their future is up to her, and ends in a swoon of self-accusation: "A pit with spikes is what I'm bringing you, hon.../ I'm not so deep that I can't be swum..." There's also a incongruously, startlingly cool falsetto bridge where head Egg Andrew Beaujon sounds exactly like Prince (with a temporarily funked-up backbeat to match). "Why Am I So Tired All the Time?" and "Evanston, IL" are quiet, slowly oscillating incarnations of post-teenage despair, as if a male lounge-jazz singer were suddenly infused with the authentic spirit of the late...
...word-for-word quotes from the songs Eggs listened to ten years ago, meaning not cool obscure postpunk records but Blue Oyster Cult's "Burn Out the Day" and the Who's "Baba O'Riley." And all those quotes are integrated into a genuinely moving song, another one of Beaujon's studies in extended teenage self-hatred: it's hard to remember how the lyrics go, because they're so deadon that they're painful to hear. I'd say that "Saturday's Cool" was the true "Day in the Life" for the hip teens...
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