Kids, how time flies.
The Real McKenzies are releasing a new album, which they do with beautiful regularity; every two to three years, singer and band leader Paul McKenzie heads into the studio with his men to record a new record.
With “Beer & Loathing,” their thirteenth release in 28 years of band history, it’s quite astonishing when I think of the many concerts I’ve experienced and the albums that regularly spin in my CD player or on my turntables, realizing how the band has only gotten better over time. Actually, the band’s style has never changed. It has only improved, becoming more nuanced. While it used to be full throttle ahead, the last albums have also found space for ballads at a calmer pace.
Anyone who has seen Paul McKenzie perform alone or with soft acoustic accompaniment knows that this incredible voice simply needs space. Space that the fast folk-punk songs don’t always provide.
Perhaps with this awareness, or perhaps because one doesn’t get younger and can’t always go full throttle, the twelve songs on “Beer & Loathing” showcase the full range of the band’s abilities.
Only with song number three, “Big Foot steps,” does the gas pedal get pressed properly. Before that, Paul McKenzie gets to show what he can do with his voice, and that’s a lot.
However, let’s stay with song number three. A song that will definitely hit hard live and inspire wild pogo dancing (if we ever get to dance pogo again). After that, it continues with the title track, again quickly moving forward and with a charming homage to Motörhead. A song, a title, that somehow expresses exactly what the band is about. Beer is essential, it belongs to the party, to life, but also to waking up in the band bus someday and not knowing exactly where you are, what day of the week it is, and how you actually got there. That’s life, the life of Paul McKenzie. A life on tour, where he feels most at home. It has always been that way and hopefully will always be. A life that has certainly been and is on the fast lane. A self-chosen fate. A self-determined life. Even if it might be sung in a different context, the lyrics of “Nary do Gooder” tell a lot about the life and the feeling of life of Paul McKenzie.
Lyrically, the band sticks to what they are known for. Stories from (the place of longing) Scotland mix with texts from life and self-written legends and tales. Stories that have pathos, heart, romance, and sometimes even patriotism. Stories from a world where life was simpler and harder. Perhaps also lived history. Who knows?
As good as this and the last albums of the band have been, and as good as everything sounds, it’s nothing compared to a live concert.
The Canadian band is simply a live band. Live, it’s moving, sometimes overwhelming, sometimes fascinating, and often just beautiful. It may be that this band, for reasons I cannot comprehend, is not highly regarded by every folk-punk fan. Perhaps too dirty, too loud, too punk rock.
For me, it is the folk-punk band that embodies everything that folk-punk is about. With this album, the band underscores its status. They are not reinventing themselves, nor do they need to. They do what they enjoy, and they have been doing that for many years. Packed clubs, support gigs for bands like Rancid or Metallica, and performances at major festivals show that this band has fans all over the world. There is hardly a band in the genre that tours more than this band. There is hardly a band that has remained so close to life in the process.
