The Top 30 Albums of 1978: # 22

Warren Zevon

Excitable Boy

Real talk. Warren Zevon’s Excitable Boy is not the type of album that The Factual Opinion usually warms up to. For one thing, Zevon has absolutely no semblance or veneer of cool—he’s no Steve McQueen; he’s more like a guy working at a used bookstore that can name each of the U.S. Vice-Presidents in order, who owns cats. Like, lots of cats. He rolls with Jackson Browne and Linda Ronstadt. He sings about ghosts and werewolves—but, decidedly, like a camp counselor instead of like a horror writer. “Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner” is a story about a Scandinavian soldier fighting in the Belgian Congo, who is such a good shot that the C.I.A. murders him. Roland is headless because his head got blown off, not cut off, and now his detached body wanders the earth exacting revenge. For Chrissake, over a barroom piano on “Werewolves of London,” Zevon actually imitates the howl of a werewolf. The guy has absolutely zero edge about him. “Veracruz” alone opens Jim Horn playing a solo on the recorder, name-checks Woodrow Wilson in the first thirty seconds, and has a verse in Spanish. This is what you’d call your dad’s music. Maybe that’s why it’s so uncomfortable when he tries to talk about sex on “Accidentally Like a Martyr.”

But Warren Zevon’s Excitable Boy has something that was as an exceedingly rare commodity in 1978 as it is now—actual charm. There’s something about the slight lilt to Zevon’s singing voice, reminiscent of Phil Lynott, that’s comfortable and disarming. His songs are ironic without being angry, and, every once in a while, he’ll say something like “Never thought I’d be so lonely after such a long, long time.” Free of the angst and self-importance of punk, lines like that can gut check you sideways. With a title like “Lawyers, Guns and Money,” you think that the album’s closing song is going to be a railing-against-the-man type screed, but, no. He winds up in bed with a Russian spy, and calls for the lawyers, guns and money to help him get out of the bad situation. If the dude is not 1978 rock’s Jack Bauer, he’s at least its Creed Bratton. “Werewolves of London”? You’d be hard-pressed to find someone not completely won over by it, and Zevon’s willingness to howl like a silly little second grader has a lot to do with why. “I saw a werewolf drinking a piña colada at Trader Vic’s, and his hair was perfect,” is a funny fucking line. Plus, you can imagine Zevon palling around with all of the characters from his songs—the fancy werewolf, headless Roland, the guys in the switching yard. Congeniality is a virtue long lost, even frowned upon, in rock & roll—but listening to Excitable Boy, makes you wonder if there’d be any better rock star in history to sit down and have a beer with, so much that it almost redeems the notion from the specter of G.H.W. Bush. Over here, we’ll trade the prospect of being cool for likeability, humor, wit, and a lack of self-consciousness any day of the week.

-Martin Brown, 2009

Comments

[Tim O'Neil]

I disagree with everything you say except for the fact that this is a boss album.

You're not alone in thinking he was awesome to have a drink with: he was so good at having a drink that he drank himself into rehab for the better part of the 80s. There's a great line on "Detox Mansion" about him and Elizabeth Taylor raking leaves at the Betty Ford clinic. That same album also had appearances from Neil Young, Dylan, George Clinton and REM, so, you know, he probably was a good guy to have a drink with even when the drink was diet Pepsi.

[Noah Berlatsky]

I don't know...I'd have to listen to this again. I enjoyed it back when, but it's somewhat soured in memory. I think my favorite song actually ended up being "Tenderness on the Block," which is just a lovely pop tune.

[Chris Jones]

This album rocks asses. I love Warren Zevon. He's not so much your dad's music as he is your cool uncle's.

[Marty]

Never in a million years would I have guessed that Warren Zevon would get so much love here.

I guess if we're being technical, Excitable Boy would probably be my mom's music. She was on some Dire Straits/Police shit, while my dad just liked Crosby Stills & Nash and the Beatles. My cool uncle bought me Talking Heads records and told me about The Residents. Happy Mother's Day.