The 1981 Listening Post - The Means - The Means of Communication

 Reviewed by Paul J Zickler / LISTENING POST DISCOVERY

Released: 1981 The Means The Means Of Communication !♪! Genre: New Wave Power Pop Ska Garage Rock Rating: 4.25 out of 5 Highlights: Talk It Over Russian Roulette Love’s Too Bad Roomate Fryin’ Pan In My Mind In Your Eyes The Means rehearsed in Jim and Mary Padbury’s garage. I know this because I found a scan of the back cover of this, their only album, on Discogs. That back cover includes lyrics, credits, and cute little doodles, and it’s all hand lettered! The album was released on Spurious Records out of Torrance, California, a record label with just three releases listed on Discogs, this being the only full length on the list. Oh, about that, a seven song album that clocks in at exactly 22 minutes doesn’t really qualify as a full length, but, as I opined in another review, it’s so worth it to listen to these obscure gems and not quibble about EP vs LP. Make no mistake, this is indeed a gem of a record. Really, if asked to describe this music, I’d go with “cute as hell.” These are some excited young dudes making energetic rock that pogos from genre to genre while never losing its innocent freshness. I don’t often feel this way about a band, but the heart of The Means is their drummer, whose name is Scott Morse. I have no idea if he ever played in another band, but for however long it took to make this album, he was definitely feeling it. Yes, the guitar riffs, keyboard noodling, bass burbles, and sincere singing are all fun and more than competent, but the drummer just runs the show, whether it’s skinny tie new wave, white kid ska, suburban LA punk, post-70’s power pop, or not-quite-gloomy post punk. Interestingly, when Morse drops out in the middle of Love’s Too Bad, that moment when he crashes back in is just too delicious (even if it is followed by a vinyl record skip on the mp3 rip). What are the highlights? I mean, come on, every song is a highlight -- especially if you can picture these kids jamming in a garage in the waning twilight of a Downey, California summer evening. Talk It Over will get you hopping. Russian Roulette’s fake Jamaican beat won’t let you get away, and the lyrics are delightfully dismissive: “I’d rather play solitaire / Than take a chance on Russian roulette.” Love's Too Bad revs up the power pop vibes. Snarling, punky, but ultimately very silly, Roomate (sic) should raise a smile in anyone who ever rented. Fryin’ Pan is an irresistibly snotty garage rock manifesto. In My Mind calls to mind early R.E.M. minus the mystery vocals. In Your Eyes blends a secret-agent-man guitar with moody ambience. One detail I really love is that someone named Chuck Foster wrote the lyrics to five of the seven songs, but he wasn't even in the band. I’ll bet there’s a story there. I kinda wish I’d known these guys back in the day. They seem pretty cool. I wonder if they know that a clean vinyl copy of their album goes for 28 bucks on eBay now. Makes me wish any of the goofball bands I messed around with in my youth had gotten it together enough to make a record. Then some middle aged geezer could listen to it 43 years later and write a rave review. How fun would that be?