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Bedridden "Big Scary Cow"
format: album, released: 1993

review by James Andean


Bedridden's second album, Scary Cow, takes up where It's All Fun and
Games left off, and though it suffers slightly from somewhat boxy
production, stands up to the standard set on that first album. The
line-up remains roughly unchanged, with the addition of one further
member, and we find the same swing between frantic acoustic stomps
and melancholic ruminations.

In fact, as far as the driving punk-folk tunes are concerned, several
tracks on Scary Cow up the ante significantly. The pure hardcore of
"Truck", simply transposed to acoustic guitars, is an impressive thrash
to say the least, as is "Cuban", with its insistent, repeated cry of
"Take me to the Bay of Pigs!!"; there's also the diabolical glee of "A
Glass of GRTY" - even more indecipherable than Fun and Games' "How Death
Comes"; the brilliant punk anthem "Paddlepop" which closes the album
(and includes such great lines as "You know and I know/ Songs don't get
you chicks;/ You know and I know/ At least not songs like this"); and
even the chorus of the otherwise more whimsical "Swim". On songs like
these, some of the relaxed mayhem of their debut may be fading, but is
replaced by even more contagious energy, drive, and spirit, making Scary
Cow a truckload of fun in its own right. (The band's melancholy side is
equally present on this album as well, for example in the lovely "Fleurieu".)

The other elements that made Fun and Games the treasure it is are all
present here as well; Scary Cow even repeats the coup of "Capital I",
with a cover of another Sesame Street classic, the Bruce Springstein spoof
"Born to Add", which they reproduce here complete with sax solo (transposed
to clarinet), and the cry of "Take it, Clarence!" that precedes it.

The album is nearly as replete with highlights as its predecessor. "Swim"
is a sometimes lovely, sometimes sinister spin on the love ballad; the
charming "Scary" has some terrific bass and clarinet playing; the
delightfully wicked and despairing "Midget"; the singalong anguished
defiance of "Fit This Body", which shows a new angle to their trademark
black physical humour, in which are listed all the ways in which the
protagonist's body is warped, deformed, or merely inadequate, over a
chant of "It's a lovely life" in gentle lilting harmony; or the jazzy
"Jim", a scat-driven rant about an obnoxious neighbour (which includes
some electric guitar - one of the few appearances of a non-acoustic
instrument), which is Kirsty Stegwazi's (known in Bedridden-land as 'Ebo')
finest moment with the band (she left to pursue a solo career after this
album).

My personal favourites, though, are the terrific Mexican epic "Bandido",
recounting the thrilling story of a duel over the hand of a woman: "My
sweet bandido was killed tonight by a horrible comanchero/ The doctors said
it would be all right, but all they left was his elbow"; and the perfect,
totally enchanting "Stalin Waltz", Bedridden's version of a political anthem,
whose brilliant lyrics resist quotation - one would need to reprint the entire song.

So, another terrific album, and about as much fun as can be had without risk of physical injury.