It appears my patented snipeskin boots have finally decided to bite back. Yesterday, sometime during my daily six-mile walk around the borough, the excess rubbing on my pinky toe formed a blister. By the time I had arrived home, the thing had swollen up to the size of the nail on my index finger; nasty. You may be saying, "Dusty, why are you going for six-mile walks in cowboy boots?" Well, I have only one thing to say to that: shh. Anyway, my ass is laid up for the rest of the day, or at least until the swelling goes down enough that I can walk without hobbling, so that leaves me with one thing to do the rest of the day. Drink an entire bottle of wine and listen to albums, because that's what champions do. Lucky for me, the fine all-stars of JULIA. sent me an advanced copy of their new album, “Fish in the Percolator.” I've been sitting here spinning it, and I think it demands a direction, so let's get into it.
We were talking about JULIA. a few weeks ago, but just in case, here's a quick refresher. They are the funk-jam powerhouse of North Carolina, where they have been reshaping the jam band scene since the late 2010s. “Fish in the Percolator” is the band's sophomore album, following 2022's “When the Dirt Was Clean and Dinosaurs Roamed the Earth.” We have known about this new album for a few months now and, in fact, have already heard several songs off of it, including “Performing for You,” “Give Me Your Time,” and the recently released “Whippets Out the Soda Stream.” Today, Friday the 13th, spooky, we finally got the full album, and that brings you up to speed.
So, tell us about the new record, Dusty! I will, I will, settle down. “Fish in the Percolator” is eight tracks, thirty-six minutes, of hard-hitting jams with a blast of funk-metal. Now notice the distinction of funk-metal, not funk-jam or funk-rock. That’s because this new album kicks things up far beyond what we have seen from JULIA. yet. I don’t believe calling them a plain funk band covers things anymore. These dudes have advanced to the levels of the Red Hot Chili Peppers and Primus. This album is fast-paced; it’s in your face like a rabid Saint Bernard. The record is all hooks and bass; every time you think you’re getting into a rhythm with things, something new comes out of the blue to smash an empty bottle over your head and completely discombobulate you.
From one, and I mean exactly one, band have I ever heard a mastery of funk quite like this, and that’s Primus. Nobody lays it down like their frontman, Les Claypool. Have you seen the way that freak plays? He slaps on a six-string bass, running around like a maniac and singing all the while. I had never heard anything as awe-inspiring as the way Claypool handles a bass until I heard this album. These bass lines are goddamn dirty. They are a focal point of the album, and for a good reason. Usually, your bassist is sort of hanging out in the back, just plucking away, keeping time with the drummer, but not when it comes to “Fish in the Percolator.” JULIA. has a devil for a bassist, who I’m sure needs to restring his bass after every show due to shredding too hard.
Beyond the bass, you have a buffet of jam delights on the record. The guitar here is impeccable; from the weeping solos to the screaming riffs, the guitar is always adding something fresh that keeps the music alive and flowing. You have the vocals, which just seem to get stronger and more authentic with every release, playful yet powerful, not afraid to shout and weave a few jokes into the same song. Then there are those drums; you can hear even in the recordings that these are the kind of beats that smack you in the chest and steal your breath away. You'll find yourself blue-faced by the end of each tune because the rhythm of your lungs can’t keep up with what’s coming off the skins. As though all of that wasn’t enough, we have the keys on top of it. I’m an avid fan of key players in particular; you may have noticed by the way I never shut up about them, but JULIA. has got something special here. You never find their keys falling into a rut or disappearing into the background; my man is front and center, wailing away at all times.
If you haven’t had the chance to hear “Fish in the Percolator” yet, hop to it; it’s streaming everywhere now. It has everything you could want from a funk-jam-metal-whatever album. It's got the jams, it's got the breakdowns, it's got some of the best bass I've ever heard, and it even has an "All Tomorrow's” reference. At least I think that that's a C. M. Kösemen reference. If you don't know what I'm talking about, go look that up too; it's, uh, disturbing. But first, go give “Fish in the Percolator” a listen or twelve. As for me, I'm hobbling over to the store. All this talk about whippets and SodaStreams has me wanting to treat myself to a canister of whipped cream, if you know what I mean.
