Roger Klug
TOXIC AND 15 OTHER LOVE
SONGS
by Brian Manke
Just to sneak inside Roger Klug's
head for a few minutes would probably be the most confusing and profound experience known
to medical science. He's a mad scientist turned mad musician/songwriter/studio guru. He's
the man of a million thoughts -- sometimes all of them smashed into a four minute song. On
TOXIC AND 15 OTHER LOVE SONGS the listener is sometimes overwhelmed at this Cincinnati
man's scope in which he works, but gladly chip away at the multi-layered structures to get
to the sugar-coated center that almost every pop-rock candy piece contains.
The best evidence (or at least one example) of Klug's all encompassing is on "She's A
Singer." Starting off with a mid-tempo snare drum cadence, Klug cruises through a
couple of verses about how the woman in praise is everything wrapped into one -- ranging
from an egghead to a jalapeno pepper.
Next, a riff segue which would be the basis of entirely different songs for most folks,
resurfaces in Klug's world as the backdrop for the in-a-round vocal chorus. His usual
electric solo comes next. Klug can flat out play guitar (he also plays every other
instrument on the damn album -- but man, can he play guitar), and while his excessive
noodling tends to make some songs too lengthy, he's not showing off as much as he's
expanding and countering off previous melodies or series of notes. It's rather insane, but
it's also always done in such an accessible and catchy way it's hard to fault him.
A barber shop quartet (with Klug chiming in all four parts) also interjects into
"She's A Singer," but by now you should have figured that to be no surprise.
Never knowing what's around the next turn is the norm, and he can often be likened to
Frank Zappa in that regard (A new-wave, pop-happy Zappa). Actually, Dweezil's solo outings
are in the same realm as Klug's, just not as good.
As if every color of the musical palate wasn't sampled during the adventure at hand,
Klug's lyrics are swarmy, witty and off-beat only heightening the overall experience. Some
of Klug's classic moments are on the big day turned bad "On The Way To His
Wedding." He blew his horn, he blew his top/He gave the bird to somebody's grandma/To
make it worse he screamed and cursed/All the way to his wedding.
Surely, if his rapidly moving arm was slightly curbed, TOXIC could become an easier
listen, but it wouldn't be Klug. That would be like asking Hitchcock to cut down on the
suspense.
At first, TOXIC seemed like it had no direction or was just too towering to see over, but
after settling, it's become an album to be reckoned with, by a man that probably has so
many more tricks up his sleeve, they're backed up to his collar.
Contact:
Mental Giant Music
P.O. Box 9400
Cincinnati, OH. 45209
e-mail: letters@mentalgiant.com