Drive Like Jehu were a band from California in the early nineties. The name refers to the biblical carriage driver, Jehu, who drove like.. really fuckin' fast, dude. The name actually fits, as the music of Drive Like Jehu is incredibly reckless and furious, yet also very precise and tight. The guitar interplay is stellar, though the style is very unconventional. It can sometimes seem disjointed, as though someone took a song, cut it up and then rearranged it. They released two albums--a self-titled debut effort (Headhunter Records), and Yank Crime (Interscope Records). They also released the Bullet Train To Vegas 7".

Members of this band later went on to form Rocket From The Crypt and Hot Snakes. Hot Snakes in particular is a reunion of the two guitarists and singers from Jehu, and their interplay is still in fine form.

Members:
-Mike Kennedy, bass guitar
-Mark Trombino, drums
-John Reis, guitar and vocals
-Rick Froberg, guitar and vocals

The tracks on their self-titled album are:

  1. Caress
  2. Spikes To You
  3. Step On Chameleon
  4. O, Pencil Sharp
  5. Atom Jack
  6. If It Kills You
  7. Good Luck In Jail
  8. Turn It Off
  9. Future Home Of The Stucco Monstrosity

I suppose I should mention that the vinyl version of the album comes with lyrics and such things, while the CD merely says on it "CDS FUCKING SUCK" and has no inserts.

In issue eleven of his 'zine, Burn Collector, Al Burian writes about having a life-changing experience while listening to this album. He recounts the story of having his first ever one night stand and promptly being kicked out of this girl's apartment, so he walks back home in the snow listening to a taped copy of this album on his headphones. Since then, he says, listening to the album has made him remember that snowy evening.

As it turns out, I too have an interesting (to me) emotional response to this album. It has a tendency to bring whatever emotional pain and anger I have lurking beneath me seething to the surface; I have a tendency to get really pissed off, or frustrated. It's good, though, because it allows me to deal with those issues. So, the girl who suggested to me that I buy this album ("Dude, it's like one of the best albums like... ever.") is a girl who, for a while, I would talk to online very frequently for long periods of time. About music, whatever. She goes to school in the city where I live, and I'd crashed at her house once after a show because the bus had stopped running.

Anyway. We talked all the time, still. And then... And then, she helped facilitate one of the more alienating moments of my life thus far. At another show, in the basement of a local punk house (the soon to be abandoned Anton Bordman house, for those who care) and I saw her there, figured it would be nice to chat. The response figures--she just turned away, ignored me after a brief, quiet "Hello." It was then that I realized, or thought I realized, that, well, I'm just not a cool guy. Certainly not cool enough to talk to in front of her scenester shithead friends. So. There. And it's interesting that listening to this album makes me think that much of the situation, when other albums she'd turned me on to (such as Slint's second album, Spiderland) don't elicit such a negative response.

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