DAVID BIANCULLI, HOST:
This is FRESH AIR. The Paranoid Style is a Washington, D.C.-based rock band led by Elizabeth Nelson, whose dense, clever lyrics have marked her as a superior pop music composer. Nelson's writing also has appeared in print in publications like The New York Times and The Atlantic and in liner notes for historical reissues of acts such as Bob Dylan and The Replacements. The Paranoid Style's new album is called "Known Associates," and rock critic Ken Tucker says it's the band's most rocking record yet.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "KNOWN ASSOCIATES")
THE PARANOID STYLE: (Singing) All the flames gathered in your heart. All the names, Rodgers and Hammerstein, Rodgers and Hart. All the rays when you don't even know where to stop. You start from the heart. Known associates. And then you take it to court. Known associates. I believe we've crossed paths. Known associates. I believe we played cards. Known associates.
KEN TUCKER, BYLINE: That voice you hear, flatly declarative, wry and verbose, belongs to Elizabeth Nelson, lead singer and chief songwriter for The Paranoid Style. Five albums into their career, the band exudes a cocky confidence in its ability to use rock songs as vehicles for both social commentary and personal angst. On "Shut Up And Deal," Nelson deploys a sarcastic country music melody to usher you into a tough lyric about the cynical compromises people make to succeed in life.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "SHUT UP AND DEAL")
THE PARANOID STYLE: (Singing) Hey, pretty baby. Are you ready for me? I'm a Long Island girl living in D.C. I'm a tall drink of water standing 5-foot-2. I'm an engineer's daughter. I've been peer reviewed. Hey, they're coyote, do you like to wager? Do you like it in minor or do you like it in major? They're going to make you an offer. They're going to give you a pager. They're going to call you a doctor. You're going to owe them a favor. Take you out to dinner. You'll get a check for the meal. Everybody loves a winner, baby. Shut up and deal. Shut up and deal. Shut up and deal. You walk around town like you invented the wheel. You're getting on my last nerve. Baby, shut up and deal.
TUCKER: As a band, the paranoid style most often gets its creative spark from the tension between the guitars garage-rock roughness and Nelson's chatterbox eloquence. On the song "A Barrier To Entry," the band steals the hook from The Riviera's 1963 surf music smash "California Sun" as Nelson sings about the kinds of limits music snobs and cultural gatekeepers try to impose on our ideas of pop greatness.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "A BARRIER TO ENTRY")
THE PARANOID STYLE: (Singing) You case the joint, you class it up. Dime store hooch in a silver cup. You take a job as a waitress, serve the land of gentry. We're one-quarter through the century, it's a barrier to entry. The terms are binding. You've had bad luck. The gears are grinding. You refuse to get stuck. You know a guy named Bruce. You know a guy named Henry. You still like Sonic Youth. It's a barrier to entry.
TUCKER: Speaking of thumbing her nose at music snobs, in a recent piece she wrote for the literary magazine Southwest Review, Nelson says Linda Ronstadt's 1977 cover of The Rolling Stones "Tumbling Dice" is, quote, "my favorite recording of my favorite song of all time." She makes a case for Ronstadt as a great singer of rock 'n' roll, a notion with which I could not disagree more. Ronstadt a great pop balled singer? Yes, indeed. A great rocker? Come on. But Nelson is such a provocative critic that I happily entertain her arguments. In this same essay, she says her favorite song she's ever recorded with The Paranoid Style is this one she wrote for Ronstadt called "It's A Dog's Breakfast."
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "IT'S A DOG'S BREAKFAST")
THE PARANOID STYLE: (Singing) Stranded, for all your best efforts. Remanded, they'll see you back in Texas. You were reckless beyond your years. You were frightened beyond your fears. You thought about buying a Lexus. It's a dog's breakfast. Shorthand, for all you should've been learning. Send a telegram out to the nearest attorney. The bailbondsman says it never hurts to know the bailiff. All the people you rode with all the people you sailed with. Tell the truth, they kinda expected this. It's a dog's breakfast.
TUCKER: Taking a cue from Nelson on Ronstadt, it occurs to me that there's a case to be made for Elizabeth Nelson as the best rock lyricist of this moment. Her range of subject matter is prodigious. Her technical command of imagery and form is impeccable, even when she's breaking the rules by cramming more words into a line than it would seem able to bear. Take, for example, the joyfully rushed cadences of "White Wine Whatever," a manic romp or what Nelson calls a pure brawl that invokes everything from Roxy Music to Jean-Luc Godard.
(SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "WHITE WINE WHATEVER")
THE PARANOID STYLE: (Singing) Standing at the table, talkin' Cain and Abel. Are you ready for the country? Are you fully unstable? White Wine Whatever. Talking out of school about a government text. Who do you answer to? What 'cha think's going to happen next? White Wine Whatever. Keeping profits in mind, keeping working folks apart. The boot of oppression is the expression of their art. Baby what's your name? Is that even germane? Are you Northern Virginia or Virginia Plane? White Wine Whatever. You're a little bit tawdry, you're a little bit tart. You're a little bit country, a little Jean-Luc Godard. White Wine Whatever. Anyone can see that...
TUCKER: "Known Associates" is The Paranoid Style's most hard rocking record, even as Elizabeth Nelson extends the reach of her influence. Seems like everyone's got a podcast, but Nelson's, also called "Known Associates," shows her to be a fine interrogator of fellow musicians and writers. Nelson and The Paranoid Style are the most persuasive argument I know for the ongoing vitality of rock 'n' roll.
BIANCULLI: Ken Tucker reviewed "Known Associates" by The Paranoid Style. Coming up, Justin Chang reviews the new Pixar film "Hoppers." This is FRESH AIR. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
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