Of all the iconic alt-rock bands to have reunited and hit the touring circuit in the past couple years, there's probably none with a comeback story as harrowing and dramatic as that of the Meat Puppets. After the band fell apart in 1995 due to bassist Cris Kirkwood's heroin addiction, he entered a lengthy downward spiral, which included his wife's overdose and death and a 2003 altercation with a security guard that resulted in Kirkwood being shot, hospitalized, and sentenced to two years in prison. For a decade, it appeared unlikely that he'd live to see his 47th birthday, much less pick up a bass and tour the country again at that age. Miraculously, in 2006 Cris reconciled with his estranged brother Curt, and the Kirkwoods began playing together as the Meat Puppets once more.
The public response was surprisingly muted, perhaps because original drummer Derrick Bostrom is missing, perhaps because last year's new album, Rise To Your Knees, was pretty weak, or perhaps because the band's fan base wasn't as large or dedicated as it appeared in the mid-'90s bubble following the radio hit "Backwater" and the Meat Puppets' appearance on Nirvana Unplugged. But the Meat Puppets are still here and almost shockingly unchanged by the long absence, as proven by the band's set last week at Rams Head Live.
The Meat Puppets were always something of a mixed bag as a live band, undermining their skilled musicianship with a loose, playful approach to performing that sometimes comes off like a big, deliberately sloppy joke. When the band hit the Rams Head stage with a rambling instrumental intro that congealed into their speed-singing 1991 novelty single "Sam," it was clear that even if Cris Kirkwood has cleaned up his act, the Meat Puppets haven't gone all stiffly professional.
The band was in town supporting Built to Spill, and both acts had been in Monticello, N.Y., a few days earlier for the All Tomorrow's Parties Festival, which featured a series of shows titled "Don't Look Back" in which bands played one of their most popular albums in its entirety. Built to Spill played 1997's Perfect From Now On as its set in Baltimore, as it had in New York. But its opener, who played their 1984 classic Meat Puppets II at ATP, opted to play a normal set of mixed oldies from several albums.
Despite physical signs of age, like Curt's paunch and Cris' graying ponytail, the Kirkwoods still perform pretty much exactly as they did 15 years ago, bobbing their heads on opposite sides of the stage and watching each other for subtle cues. New drummer Ted Marcus, who was a longtime Meat Puppets fan before joining the band two years ago, did an admirable job of achieving a dynamic with the brothers similar to what Bostrom always maintained; he sturdily kept time when he needed to, and when Curt would throw a sudden tempo change into "Touchdown King" or play "Look at the Rain" at a much faster speed than the studio recording, he'd roll with the changes without blinking. Curt sometimes mumbled his words or missed entire lines of vocals, which detracted somewhat from renditions of the band's best songs, such as "Plateau" and "Up on the Sun." But when it was Cris' turn to sing lead, on the goofy "The Station," he gave a considerably more enthusiastic performance.
On paper, the pairing of the Meat Puppets with Built to Spill makes perfect sense. It could be said, after all, that Doug Martsch picked up the mantle of indie rock's resident guitar hero from Curt Kirkwood right around the time the Puppets' original run came to an end. But in practice, the bands couldn't be more different as live entities. Built to Spill thickened its lineup out to a sextet onstage and played steady, clean renditions of each song, and Martsch crisply said "thanks" between each song and patiently took a minute to retune his instrument. But when the band finished playing Perfect so perfectly, and returned to the stage for an encore of "Car," the Kirkwoods, as well as members of opening act the Drones, joined Built to Spill onstage, and the hysterical train wreck that ensued was as much a piece of improv comedy as it was an all-star jam. With Cris taking over on bass and Curt grabbing a mic and going on some bizarre, barely audible rant, Built to Spill's show unexpectedly ended with the Meat Puppets contributing a little bit of the Kirkwoods' brand of chaos to its set.
