The Meanies : It’s Not Me, It’s You
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The Meanies : It’s Not Me, It’s You

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“Men do not quit playing because they grow old; they grow old because they quit playing,” mused the distinguished American jurist Oliver Wendell Holmes while contemplating the contrived limitations of age. The seemingly indestructible Motorhead frontman Lemmy Kilmeister expresses similar sentiments, albeit with a far more provocative tone: “I don’t see why there should be a point where everyone decides you’re too old. I’m not too old, and until I decide I’m too old, I’ll never be too fucking old.”

It’s 26 years since The Meanies first took to the stage, 25 years since the release of the band’s first 7” and 21 years since their most recent album, 10% Weird, and subsequent hiatus. The Meanies’ reformation has been a period of triumph punctuated by tragedy; like the subjects of Laurence Binyon’s poem, For the Fallen, DD and Tas Meanie are departed but never forgotten. 

But with the release of a new album, It’s Not Me, It’s You, Link, Wally, Ringo and Jaws soldier on, punk rock commandos to the last. They begin with You Know the Drill; a swathe of buzzsaw guitar, laced with the defiant attitude of a group of no-good punks pissed off with the suffocating banality of mainstream existence. To listen to The Shallow End’s Mine is to remember the glory days of alternative rock 25 years ago, the frenzy of popular interest building, and the storm clouds of commercial interest still way off in the distance. Kill is the type of rock’n’roll that provokes elderly surbanites to contact local newspapers, predicting the imminent decline of society as we know it.

Freakout Forever is the organic marriage of garage rock and pop melody that underpinned The Meanies’ original gestation; Dream Age is what passes for bubble-gum psychedelia in The Meanies’ distorted world; and What’s the Buzz Inside is Link Meanie in post-modern mode, invoking the discourse of youth through the lens of a punk rocker who’s never grown old. 

Hug and Kiss is Radio Birdman via the Exploding White Mice and The Dickies; Hey Head is equal parts tough and jarring, like a George Foreman blow to the solar plexus with a Christmas handshake chaser. There’s a Gap is The Ramones in a Datsun 240Z, flying down the Princes Highway without a care in the world, while Punchin’ Air is where The Beach Boys might have ended up if Brian Wilson had embraced amphetamines over LSD. 

On a patronising level, It’s Not Me, It’s You is a damn good record, given The Meanies’ tenure and maturity. On an absolute level, it’s a fucking good punk rock record, every single fucking moment of it.  If you don’t like this record, it’s not them, it’s you.

BY PATRICK EMERY