The 500 - #442 - Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo. - Devo

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by Los Angeles-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time. 

My plan (amended). 

• One record per week(ish) and at least two complete listens.
• A blog post for each, highlighting the important details and, when possible, a background story that relates to the record.
• No rating scale - just an effort to expand my appreciation of diverse forms of music.
• Listen to Josh and his guest on The 500 podcast to gather additional information and insights.

Album # 442

Album Title: Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo.
Artist: Devo
Released: August, 1978
My age at release: 13
How familiar was I with it before this week: Fairly
Song I am putting on my Spotify Mix: Uncontrollable Urge (Selected by several friends, including my high-school chum and Devo fan Paul Dawson)
Great Lyric:
"I been dipped in double meaning
I been stuck with static cling
Think I got a rupto-pac
I think I got a Big Mac attack" 
(From the song: Too Much Paranoias)

In childhood, there are moments of liberation and freedom that resonate with us forever. Perhaps it was the first time you were allowed to sleep in a tent with a few friends or when you finally got permission to ride your bike to school. At Christmas, 1977, I received a Panasonic Radio and Cassette player, and a world of music was suddenly accessible...in the sanctuary of my bedroom. 

This isn't it exactly, but awfully close

At the time, I was 12 and living in Kingsville, Ontario. This sleepy, farm, fishing and hockey town is 41 km south-east of Detroit, Michigan - - home of two competing rock-music stations WRIF (Riff Radio) and WWWW (W4). Lounging in my room doing or pretending to do school work, I could quickly switch between stations, slowly building my internal music database.

On Sunday evenings, a two-hour broadcast of The Dr. Demento Radio Show was aired. This was appointment listening. It combined my two great loves: music and comedy. Each week, Dr. Demento (aka Barry Hansen) would spin an eclectic mix of novelty songs ranging from humorously peculiar to the hauntingly bizarre. It was where I first heard... 

• "Weird" Al Yankovic and his first parody hit "My Bologna" (which lampooned The Knack's My Sharona), 
• What's he Building in There? by Tom Waits
• Constantinople by The Four Lads,  
• and all the exquisite weirdness of Barnes & Barnes with songs like Fishheads or Something's in the Bag

The Dr. Demento also introduced me to the music of Frank Zappa (whose album Freak Out! appears at #246 on the list) and, of course, the music from Album #442 Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo by Devo. 

Formed in Akron, Ohio in 1973, Devo featured two sets of brothers, the Mothersbaughs (Mark and Bob) and the Casales (Gerry and Bob) with drummer Alan Myers. 

The band rose to prominence in the mid-70s on the strength of their stage shows which, according to Hardcore Live Magazine, "mingled kitschy science-fiction themes with deadpan, surrealistic humour and mordantly satirical social commentary." Their broad, dissonant songs took advantage of advances in technological instrumentation (particularly the Minimoog analogue synthesizer keyboard). The band created their name from the biological theory of De-Evolution, a notion that suggests a species will, over time, revert to a more primitive form.

Devo came to the attention of David Bowie, Brian Eno and Iggy Pop who have nine records on The 500 list. All three offered to produce Devo's first record and, in the end, it was crafted by Eno with assistance from Bowie. 

The album, released in the summer of 1978, sold briskly but was received with a mixed critical response. I was familiar with it through performances of Jocko Homo and Mongoloid on Dr. Demento's program. However, it was Devo's October 1978 performance on Saturday Night Live that galvanized my fandom. Decked out in yellow hazmat suits they performed a fidgety, otherworldly robo-funk version of the Rolling Stone classic I Can't Get No Satisfaction. 

I got the impression of a seismic shift in culture was taking place and, much like I felt when I first plugged in my Panasonic radio, there was an intoxicating feeling of liberation just bearing witness to it.