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ZZ Top: Rhythmeen

 A l b u m   D e t a i l s


Label: RCA Records
Released: 1996.09.17
Time:
 54:08
Category: Pop/Rock
Producer(s): Bill Ham, Billy F. Gibson
Rating: ********.. (8/10)
Media type: CD
Web address: www.zztop.com
Appears with:
Purchase date: 2010.03.03
Price in €: 2,00





 S o n g s ,   T r a c k s


[1] Rhythmeen (Gibbons) - 3:53
[2] Bang Bang (Gibbons) - 4:28
[3] Black Fly (Gibbons) - 3:31
[4] What's Up with That (Gibbons/Hardy/Ingram/Rice) - 5:19
[5] Vincent Price Blues (Beard/Gibbons/Hill) - 6:04
[6] Zipper Job (Beard/Gibbons/Hill) - 4:14
[7] Hairdresser (Gibbons) - 3:48
[8] She's Just Killing Me (Beard/Gibbons/Hill) - 4:55
[9] My Mind Is Gone (Gibbons/Hardy/Moon/Wonder) - 4:06
[10] Loaded (Gibbons) - 3:47
[11] Pretty Head (Beard/Gibbons/Hill) - 4:37
[12] Hummbucking Part 2 (Beard/Gibbons/Hill) - 5:13

 A r t i s t s ,   P e r s o n n e l


Frank Beard - Percussion, Drums, Vocals
Billy F. Gibbons - Guitar, Vocals, Producer, Design
Dusty Hill - Bass, Vocals

Bill Ham - Producer
Joe Hardy - Engineer, Mixing
Lizzie Harrah - Assistant Engineer
Bob Ludwig - Mastering
Gary Moon - Assistant Engineer
Douglas Biro - Director
Sean Mosher-Smith - Art Direction, Design
James A. Bland - Photography

 C o m m e n t s ,   N o t e s


1996 CD RCA Records 66956
1996 CS RCA Records 66956
1996 CD BMG 74321394662
1996 CS RCA Records 74321394664
2009 CD Sbme Special Mkts. 747945

There are some things in America that you can count on yearafter year, like Coca-Cola, the Super Bowl and the latest ZZ Top album. RHYTHMEEN is no exception. On these 12 tunes Billy Gibbons, Frank Beard and Dusty Hill continue to do what they have always done best: making lowdown, swampy rock and roll with a monstrous guitar crunch. As usual, the Topsters' sense of humor is in the forefront. Witness "Zipper Job", a rocking ode to sex-change operations, or the slow-grinding, bizarrely ominous "Vincent Price Blues". In fact, most of the tunes on RHYTHMEEN contain a good dose of the band's loopy, Texas-fried scamp sensibility. Dusty Hill's vocals retain their raw, morning-after-the-morning-after tequila hangover quality. And fans will be pleased to note that Gibbons' guitar work is as dirty and untamed as ever. On "Loaded" he reaches new depths of unwashed guitar glory; he sounds as ifhe's playing through a prehistoric garbage compactor.



ZZ Top's long-awaited return to the blues finally arrived in 1996, well over a decade after they abandoned their simple three-chord boogie for a synth and drum machine-driven three-chord boogie. Like Antenna before it, Rhythmeen is stripped of all the synthesizers that had characterized the group's albums since Eliminator but the key difference between the two albums is how Rhythmeen goes for the gut, not the gloss. It's a record that is steeped in the blues and garage rock, one that pounds out its riffs with sweat and feeling. Though ZZ Top sounds reinvigorated, playing with a salacious abandon they haven't displayed since the '70s, they simply haven't come up with enough interesting songs and riffs to make it a true return to form. For dedicated fans, it's a welcome return to their classic "La Grange" sound, but anyone with a just a passing interest in the band will wonder where the hooks went.

Stephen Thomas Erlewine - All Music Guide



Ungeachtet aller Gerüchte um ihren angeschlagenen Gesundheitszustand melden sich ZZ Top mit einem kraftvollen neuen Album zurück. Die Rauschebärte aus Texas kehren auf "Rhythmeen" zu ihren Wurzeln zurück, verzichten auf elektronische Experimente und spielen, wofür sie berühmt wurden: dreckigen, rockigen Blues'n'Boogie. Das Soundspektrum reicht dabei vom schwerfälligen "Vincent Price Blues" über das dynamische "She's Just Killing Me" bis zum federnden Beat von "Bang Bang". Dennoch wirkt alles wie aus einem Guß - eine starke Vorstellung der Altmeister. ** Interpret.: 07-08

© Stereoplay



"How much blues do you use before you use it up?" queries singer and guitarist Billy Gibbons in "What's Up With That," the first single from ZZ Top's new album, Rhythmeen. But the real question posed by Rhythmeen – and by the latest blast from Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, Now I Got Worry – is: Whose music is it anyway? If anything, these albums revive the age-old dispute: What right do white boys, young and middle-aged, have to play the blues?

For one thing, it ain't exactly blues that either of these bands peddles, as both ZZ Top and the Blues Explosion turn tradition on its head in their respective ways. ZZ Top milk a conventional blues progression for all its worth on "Prettyhead" and add honking harmonica to "What's Up With That." But the booming volume and Gibbons' feed-back-drenched guitar breaks betray ZZ's grounding in '60s garage rock and psychedelia and '70s arena rock. Likewise, the Blues Explosion hot-wire their manic deconstructions of blues and rockabilly with New York art-punk noise – which is no great surprise, considering that singer and guitarist Jon Spencer was a founding member of the seminal, cacophonous, '80s scum-rock band Pussy Galore.

Touted by ZZ Top as a return to roots, Rhythmeen finds the power trio ditching the synth-pop thud of their '80s hits "Legs" and "Sharp Dressed Man." Instead, Gibbons, bassist Dusty Hill and drummer Frank Beard evoke the roadhouse boogie of the earlier '70s stompers – "La Grange," "Tush" – that first brought them fame. Now I Got Worry finds the Blues Explosion also stripping down to basics. Spencer and the band eschew the hip-hop influences that came to a head on 1994's Orange, opting instead for a more gutbucket approach (although as the Minor Threat-style "Identify" proves, these guys are young enough to consider punk rock to be roots music). Ironically, ZZ Top offer a nod in the other direction. "Rhythmeen" features head-bobbing beats a la Dr. Dre, while the droning intro of "My Mind Is Gone" echoes Coolio's "Gangsta's Paradise."

If there is any controversy worth arguing about in ZZ's or the Blues Explosion's appropriation of African-American musical forms, it is in each band's sometimes questionable irreverence. Spencer's faux backwoods drawl verges on minstrel-show insult. Gibbons has his own vocal affectations, turning his "things" into "thangs." As for ZZ Top's lyrical concerns, bad-hair days ("Hairdresser") and sex changes ("Zipper Job") might not be considered respectable topics in a music born of hard times and suffering.

But to their credit, neither ZZ Top nor the Blues Explosion sands down the rough edges in their blues; instead, both groups add a few jagged touches of their own. Spencer in particular works up a lunatic energy usually associated with the best rock & roll. Spencer also has the balls to bring in Stax-Volt soul legend Rufus Thomas and Mississippi blues master R.L. Burnside for guest appearances on Now I Got Worry. Thomas and Burnside actually blow the youngster away in terms of performance. But at least Spencer is willing to acknowledge his sources.

MATT DIEHL - Feb 2, 1998
RollingStone.com



Live, ZZ Top has always been known to squeeze out a spark or two, but the robotics and dancing girlies and one too many snoozy follow-ups to Afterburner had long overtaken the band's original true essence as heavy purveyors of Texas blues boogie on their first five or six albums. "How much blues do you use before you use it up?" asks Gibbons on "What's Up With That," and it's a question he should be asking after those last few bewilderingly slick, robotic albums. The answer comes with Rhythmeen's rejuvenating, back-to-basics approach: there's fewer triggers and chips, and not too surprisingly, there's still a lot of life in the old beards yet. William Gibbons turns in some of his most inspired, fiery playing in eons, pinching out so many solos, chunky rhythm chords and dazzling harmonics it made us realize just how little most of today's rock acts know about actually playing guitar. Just like a ZZ album of old, our favorite licks are on the deep tracks: "Bang Bang," "Zipper Job," Billy's zooming buzz-bomb on "Hairdresser" (we also dig the idea of a song about going to the hairdresser being sung by a bunch of guys who haven't been seen without hats on since the early `70s) and "She's Just Killing Me." Including the address of the Clarksdale blues museum on the sleeve is a nice touch, too. A mighty fine album.

CMJ.com - Nov 10, 2000
 

 L y r i c s


Rhythmeen

Solid-silver beat machine
Hunkin' down
Funkin' up on Magazine
On rhythmeen in New Orleans

Drinkin' Dixie 45 with hot links
In a silver Continental
Wired as hell and doin' things
That's what you get on rhythmeen

Oh yeah, way up
Oh yeah, way out
Uh-huh, get on up
Rhythmeen is down
Rhythmeen thing
Mean mean rhythmeen

Can't get enough of that special sauce
The backbeat's the big boss
Here comes another dope fiend
Tradin' up for rhythmeen

Oh yeah, weird up
Oh yeah, fear not
Uh-huh, get on up
Rhythmeen is down

Leanin' on a silver Lincoln
A Galaxy 500
In a Mustang might Tchoupitoulas
Rhythmeen up everything


Bang Bang

Everybody knows what it's all about
Pretty thing jumpin' all around
Shakin' your money-maker now
Take it off and take me down

Bang, bang, shang-a-lang
Bang, bang, shang-a-lang
Take it off
She bang-bang my shang-a-lang
She bang-bang my shang-a-lang
Hey yeah

Tear me up, baby, tear me down
You got me movin' upside down
Feelin' good, I'm feelin' alright
Do it again, do it all night

Bang, bang, shang-a-lang
Bang, bang, shang-a-lang
Take it off, take it off
She bang-bang my shang-a-lang
She bang-bang my shang-a-lang
(popgun!)

Hey, hey, hey...

Do me once, baby do me twice
Do it 'cos it feels so nice
I don't care 'bout nothin' else
Do me 'til my money melts

Bang, bang, shang-a-lang, take it off
Bang, bang, shang-a-lang, hey yeah
She bang-bang my shang-a-lang
She bang-bang my shang-a-lang
Hey
(popgun!)

Hey, hey, hey...


Black Fly

Black fly buzzin', buzzin' around
Black fly flyin' from town to town
Black fly lookin' around and around
What's he gonna do when he finds her?

He got the mojo workin' overtime
Makin' it, layin' it on the line
Chasin' his honey with a honeysuckle vine
Who's so lucky and gets to kiss her?

Black fly, that's right
Black fly, that's right

Flyin' round lookin' for a black cat bone
Flyin' with John the conquerer showin'
Messin' around with a honey-bee
Will she kiss him or sting him, what's it gonna be?

Black fly, that's right
Black fly, that's right

Black fly buzzin, buzzin' around
Black fly flyin' from town to town
Black fly zzzzz'n all around
Fly gonna fly when he find her

Black fly, that's right
Black fly, that's right
Black fly, that's right
Black fly, yeah that's alright


What's Up With That

Well how much blues do you use
Before you use it up
And how many fools take a chance
Before they hit it lucky
Tomorrow's wanna be the day
It never seem to work that way

What's up with that
What's up with that
What's up with that
What's up with that

Everybody want a little more
Than they think they got
But what you might think it is,
Might really not be, baby
Pick it up or leave it lay
It always seem to slip away

What's up with that
What's up with that
What's up with that
What's up with that

Now how high will a river get
Before it overflows
And how long is the hole to China
It don't really know
This is what it's all about
There's always gonna be a doubt

What's up with that
What's up with that
What's up with that
What's up with that


Vincent Price Blues

There's a rockin' time on the borderline
Between sundown and up
There's an off-the-wall cantina, man
Just waitin' to tear you up
The locals know that in you go
And out con nalgas fried
Night descends, and the fun begins
Way out the other side

But, I didn't say it
Oh, no
Vincent Price said it's alright
Vincent Price said it's OK

There's a very cherry charmer
Oozin' groovin' grease
She come in with the graveyard shift
A pleasin' teasin' squeeze
El jeffe [sic] holler mucho mas
Get some sucker's ass inside
I think you'll know you gotta go
To get some satisfy

But, I didn't say it
Oh, no
Vincent Price said it's alright
Vincent Price said it's OK

I've dined at Spago and Eclipse
And Whataburger too
I've had Mescal with lotsa gals
Along 5th Avenue
I always shot the best they got
Dinero no problema
Ain't no quarter south-the-border
In this off the wall cantina

But, I didn't say it
Oh, no
Vincent Price said it's alright
VIncent Price said it's ok
Vincent, Vincent Price said it's alright
Vincent Price said it's OK


Zipper Job

He/she wanna be
Body and soul just don't agree
There's an answer, gotta go for a
Tijuana tuck-n-roll

He/she just got a zipper job
A zipper job

It ain't nothin', it ain't no thing
It's just changin' face of yin and yang
Ain't no callin' for alarm
It's just a different kind of charm

It's alright, on one condition
Certainly before transition
No one even need a clue
Just pull the old switch-a-roo

He/she done got a brand-new glistening zipper job
Oh yes, a zipper job

Flip, strip, zip, trip a talon-42

Timing is everything
For kings, queens, and in-betweens
It's a question of what to do
'Cos what is what and who is who?

He/she just got a zipper job
An everlasting zipper job


Hairdresser

What a shame, what a shame, what a shame
The shape my hair is in
It's way too humid, today, my head, it ain't no friend
If I was seen out, I'd have me arrested
Gimme, gimme, gimme my sweet hairdresser

Hairdresser, hairdresser

She's hip to the fastest bob,
She give a good lather-job
She don't stand no messin' around
Gimme, gimme, gimme my hairdresser this town

Hairdresser, hairdresser
Conk it up, conk me baby

I likes a wax, I likes a straight
I don't like the kind of hair you love to hate
I can dig it dread, I can dig it buzzed
I can dig a 'do' that does the fuzz
God, my hair it looks molested
Gimme, gimme, gimme my sweet hairdresser

Hairdresser, hairdresser
Hairdresser, hairdresser
Yo, yo, Milano


She's Just Killing Me

Everything about her was natural
Everything about her was cool
But I'm a little partial for beautiful girls
Even if they blood runs blue

I think I see her
I think I want her
I think I love her
She's just killing me
I think she's killing me

Her castanets are enormous
Her bongo beat absolute
And when she doin' midnite performances
She's got a secret somethin' to boot

I think I see her
I think I want her
Oh, I think I love her
But she's just killing me
I think she's killing me

Miss Satanic Pandemonia
Don't get any lower or slower
What you see is what you get conmigo
And the bonus of an albino boa

I think I see her
I think I want her
Yes, I think I love her
She's just killing me
She's just killing me
(That's some time I had)

I think I see her
I know I love her
Yes, I might love her
She's just killing me
She wanna be killing me
(Suck my blood)


My Mind is Gone

I have to go to my parole-boy
To remember just who I am
One thing else I don't enjoy is
Forgetting her monogram
She electrifies my physical mass
She really turns me on

My mind is gone
My mind is gone

She quite simply wrecks me
She just tears me apart
She screws me up and skewers me
She made it quite an art
She guts me like a hollow-point
She really turns me on

My mind is gone
My mind is gone

Yeah, Billy
I know what you mean

It's the smell of the dress
That made my mind a mess
It's her chokin' throat
Really gets my goat-tee and amen
Yes, indeed
She makes my head and heart bleed
Been so long since I knocked some off

My mind is gone
My mind is gone
My mind is gone
My mind is gone

Tell me about it


Loaded

Loaded
Gonna have a good time
Loaded
Gonna have a good, good time
Don't you know that I wanna get loaded

Lit
Brighter than my butane
I said lit
Hotter than my low-down thing
Take me inside-out, 'til I'm gone insane
Well, oh yeah, SHELLACKED

Loaded, loaded, LOCOMOTED
Loaded, loaded, disembodied
Let's fry
Like a Paxton blower
Like a Paxton twist
Black Cadillac
Aphrodesiac

Loaded
Tankin', skankin' with the rank-n-file
Load me up
Gettin' it good for a little while
Don't you know that I wanna get loaded
Yeah, put me up

Loaded, loaded, LOCOMOTED
Loaded, loaded, don't you just know it
HARPOONED, loaded, well
Like Bridgette Bardot
Like a French high-roller


Prettyhead

Don't send me no bag, don't send me no skag
A pin-headed ho won't do
Don't send me no square without some beehive hair
She got to have her rhythm with blues

Gotta have a prettyhead, gotta have a prettyhead
Gotta have a prettyhead, I said pretty head

Don't send nothin' lame, don't send nothin' tame
A scatter-brained ho won't do
Don't send me no skang, don't send me nothin' rang
I want it hot, righteous and blue

Gotta have a prettyhead, gotta have a prettyhead
GOtta have a prettyhead, I said pretty head

Play the guitar

Drop-dead, big red, icy head, pretty pretty head

Don't send me no twig, don't send nothin' big
With a sideways thing-a-majig
Don't send me no pro, don't send nothin' low
Down and out, holdin' out ho

Gotta have a prettyhead, gotta have a prettyhead
Gotta have a prettyhead, said pretty, pretty head


Hummbucking Part 2

Some slide guitar in this one.

I found it hidin' out in the weeds
Definitely feel like a king bee
Sweet like jelly, bad like a truck
I wanna be hummbucking on you
Hummbucking, part 2

I got off, down in the bush
Definitely somethin' everybody wush for
Sweet like jelly, bad likes a truck
I'm gonna rub hummbucking on you
Hummbucking, part 2

Burkina faso, burkina faso

I found it way down off in the cane
Definitely know I wanna be your man
Sweetroll jelly, rumblin' truck
I'm gonna put a lil' hummbucking on you
Hummbucking, part 2

Sugar cane
Imperial cane
Domino cane
Yes, I can

 M P 3   S a m p l e s


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