For the front cover of his second non-singles-compilation album, Jay Reatard has switched from the art-house horror look of standing in an empty void of white studio space, in his little red pants, covered in obviously fake blood, to the classic horror look of The Shining’s unsettling maze chase scene. While he looks confused fronting debut ‘Blood Visions’, here he stares out from ‘Watch Me Fall’ menacingly, clutching the front of his coat with a white spectral hand, in a smoky aura of cold self hatred.
This switch from shocks to chills is reflected in the album’s content: ‘Watch Me Fall’ is a much more restrained effort than ‘Blood Visions’, and in some ways it is a darker, more serious album. While his debut (and indeed the compilation ‘Matador Singles 08’) was a spiky collection of angry, flippant or apathetic punk tropes, ‘Watch Me Fall’ leaves something of the garage-punk edginess behind, and replaces it with ironically happy music, and an altogether more mature feeling.
Opener ‘It Ain’t Gonna Save Me’ certainly seems to keep it simple for returning Reatard fans, with energetic, happy, pop-punk guitars, but the lyrics tell a different story. It’s hard to tell with Reatard, but it seems as if he is lamenting on his own image in the collective consciousness of his fans and critics; he juxtaposes his own loneliness and boredom with the way people think of him, as a crazy guy who “don’t give a shit”. However, as he points out, he has “no one to blame” for this presiding image of him, only himself for having a hand in producing it.
A glance at the album’s song titles says something about the continuation of this theme throughout the rest of the record: on ‘Can’t Do It Anymore’, Reatard sings about being unable to “go insane” at the whim of others any longer, set to the primal screech of feedback that ends the track, while standout song ‘Rotten Mind’ sounds more angrily defiant, as the singer thinks of killing those who want to “watch him fall”, while taking a disgusted look at himself “crawling on the floor”.
At times this anger at himself and bitterness towards others deteriorates into sounding close to self parody, as on the echo-soaked, punk-meets-Phantom-of-the-Opera sounding ‘Nothing New’. However, it’s fascinating to see Reatard mature musically while seemingly in the middle of such a meltdown of self confidence, and while it may seem cynical to say so, at least this angst about his self image, which is clearly causing him a lot of mental anguish, hasn’t had a negative effect on his music. If anything, it has added a level of emotional intensity to his perhaps slightly air-headed prior efforts.
7/10
