1988-11-11 Atlanta Constitution
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They Might Be Giants Just Might Get Serious: Sardonic Rockers Retire Their Fezzes To Focus on Music
By Forrest Rogers, The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, November 11 1988
A monstrous hand, towering fezzes, and the Stick. The punch line to a Johnny Carson Carnak joke? No, just a few of the props They Might Be Giants brought on stage during this summer's "Bring Me the Head of Kenny Rogers" tour.
But the Brooklyn-based duo has put all that behind them now. Speaking from a tour stop in Fort Wayne, Ind., accordionist-saxophonist John Linnell, who, with guitarist John Flansburgh, is They Might Be Giants, explained the changes in the tour that brings the band to Atlanta's Cotton Club on Saturday night. "We did all the props last year. I don't know if people thought we were stupid, but I thought we looked good," says Mr. Linnell. "This time we're trying to focus on the music. The accordion is my No. 1 prop now."
Playing everything from pop to polka, They Might Be giants walk a fine line between humor and social commentary on songs such as "Don't Let's Start" and "Purple Toupee." Mr. Linnell points out that he and Mr. Flansburgh have not made a conscious attempt to straddle the humorous-serious fence. "We don't really calculate too hard about whether it's too funny or not funny enough," he notes. "We haven't been too careful about being serious enough to hang on to those U2 fans who might otherwise be disappointed."
Though they still haven't found what they're looking for, They Might Be Giants have found success on college radio playlists. In 1986, they released their eponymous first LP on the independent Bar/None label. The record featured - count 'em - 19 songs, including such sardonic ditties as "Youth Culture Killed My Dog" and "Nothing's Gonna Change My Clothes." And the video for the deconstructionist "Don't Let's Start" found its way into MTV's rotation in early 1988.
Along with limited success came pressure to expand their two-man lineup. But Mr. Linnell and Mr. Flansburgh obviously are comfortable working within the constraints of a twosome. "When we started out it was an important issue, because we couldn't afford a rehearsal space or a drummer," says Mr. Linnell. "We have friends who still scratch their heads over why we don't do the band sound."
In concert, They Might Be Giants depend on pre-recorded tapes to provide the percussion and backing tracks from their records. Their second LP, "Lincoln" (released last month on Bar/None), includes 18 songs, among them "Pencil Rain" and "Kiss Me, Son of God," which were heard during the band's summer appearance at the Cotton Club. Mr. Linnell is pleased with the sound of "Lincoln," noting, "We were going for some of the sounds we got playing live. [Our first LP] is more of a tinkerer's album. The singing on the second is more like we've done live."
Though not signed to a major label, They Might Be Giants are aware of the pressures and expectations that come with greater success. "I don't know what people expect us to do, exactly," he explains. "There are a million possible futures we can think of for ourselves. I just want to have the freedom to decide."
Often expressing their thoughts with equal doses of innocence and sarcasm, they have stayed true to their self-defined musical dream. "I think we owe ourselves the freedom to make mistakes," Mr. Linnell says. "We've had time to do stuff that was inexcusable."
Perhaps an overstatement, but some of their musical experiments are, well, unusual. What other band would invite 30 guitarists onstage at New York's Village Gate to jam on Bob Dylan's "Mr. Tambourine Man"? Their most enduring (and endearing) musical gesture is their Dial-A-Song service. Fans can call 718-387-6962 day or night to hear They Might Be Giants' latest work-in-progress. And as noted on the back on one of their records, "It's free when you call from work."
Mr. Linnell is aware that the nudge-nudge, wink-wink attitude inherent in some of their work might have the potential to leave some fans out in the intellectual cold. "We do stuff that we like," he says. "And [we] do stand a chance to confuse people. The balancing force is that we want everyone to be on the inside."
Another balancing force for They Might Be Giants is that they don't take themselves too seriously. Mr. Linnell says, "I think somebody said it best last night backstage: 'The thing about you guys is that you're really smart and you're really stupid.'"
They Might Be Giants. Saturday at the Cotton Club. Go Van Go and Uncle Green open. Doors open at 8 p.m.; music starts at 10. Tickets, $8, are available at Wax 'N' Facts, Wuxtry, Atlanta Compact Disc and Fantasyland Records and at the door. Information: 874-xxxx.