I first heard the title track from David Lynch's "Crazy Clown Time" in between some twee bands at a boutique show. Conversation stalled as my friend and I listened to what sounded like a muppet on heroin singing over the monitors. It was out of place to a point I had to ask the sound man about the song. He laughed, as though playing this particular David Lynch song was a little joke to see if anyone was paying attention.
I'm always late to David Lynch, which does not bother me, since it takes a certain mood to appreciate his style. I cannot listen to Crazy Clown Time if there's an ounce of fear or doubt in my psyche. The album is only thrilling when I'm properly fucked up and it has instilled a foreign confidence in me. I've wanted to throw little gatherings and play that record in full, to gauge how others react to it, in hopes that just once it got weird enough for it to fit. Then, I watched Lynch's video for the title track and realized I don't want those degenerates at my apartment, but I'll participate if it's elsewhere.
Lynch's cartoonish vocals and the "Pink Room" revisited vibe distracted me from the narrative that's glaringly obvious in "Crazy Clown Time". Seeing Susie rip her shirt off completely, Danny pouring beer all over Sally, and Petey light his hair on fire gives the impression the lyrics were built from cut sentences in a written scene, rather than purely intended for song. If that's not the case, I'd still like to see an extended version of Lynch's vision of backyard parties over glorify-fest films like Project X.
– Blake Gillespie
Crazy Clown Time is out now on Sunday Best Recordings.