Bedridden: It's All Fun and Games
Until Someone Loses an Eye
It's All Fun and Games Until Someone Loses an Eye is Bedridden's first album, released in 1989, and it's a wonder and a joy from beginning to end. Nearly 20 songs long, the album comes across as a raucous, irresistible bash, the five members sounding at least double that, and clearly having a very, very good time. With a loose, relaxed feel, people casually sing along, shout, whoop, and play whatever instruments happen to be laying about: abundant guitars, banjo, bass, plenty of clarinet, cello, and percussion (or rather, banging on whatever happens to close by). The songs are nearly exclusively brilliant, displaying what immediately became the band's trademark black humour and fascination with illness, injury, and death, with an absurd and irreverent wit that makes it all both wickedly mischievous and captivating. The strong playing and relentless energy serve the songs well, all of which display a wonderful melodic sense, and are every one catchy, memorable, and permanent favourites. It's difficult to pick stand-out tracks on this one; it's not just that they outnumber less memorable songs, it's that there are no less memorable songs. From the opening one-minute instrumental clarinet-and-guitar overture, to the 30-second throw-away bitter lament that closes the album, it's an unbroken series of gem after gem: the whooping party of "Bateman's Bay," "Resurrection Blues," or "How Death Comes"; the gentle melancholia of "Why Did Bodidharma Come to China," "Sheepdog," "Run," "The Fishing Song," "Eliza's Dirge," and the absolutely brilliant "Yo Ho Lital Fisheye"; and tracks that manage to be both at the same time, like "Tread It." Other highlights include the mock Celtic epic "Hamish MacDougall," and, possibly the album's finest moment, a cover version of the old Sesame Street song "Capital I," replacing the brilliant original's psychedelia with an equally brilliant, thrashing acoustic-punk drive. The lyrics are as irresistible as the tunes; generally narrative, and often very, very funny, in a very, very black way. Their obsession with pain and death has already been stated; this runs from the name of the band and the album's title through a good many of the songs themselves. Witness the "Gonna die gonna die gonna die again" chorus of "Resurrection Blues"; the narrator of "Sheepdog," who poisons her mother after her dog runs away, but feels better when her dog comes back and goes to the funeral with her; Hamish MacDougall, who is struck down by the monster of old Loch McGilty; the nearly indecipherable "How Death Comes"; the deeply despairing mourning of "Eliza's Dirge"; or "Stephen McKenzie," hit by a truck on his way back from the shops. The incredible thing, though, is that therein lies much of the band's charm: their irrepressible, defiant glee in singing wild and carefree of such bitter subjects, and unabashedly finding humour throughout. It is all so undeniably catchy it must be heard to be believed. So, without a doubt, It's All Fun and Games Until Someone Loses an Eye is an enduring favourite, and none who have heard it once have been able to resist its charm. Anyone who hears this album and remains unmoved should probably check their pulse.
Bedridden: It's All Fun and Games Until Someone Loses an Eye. Round Records, 1989. Review by James Andean. 5th issue, March 2002.