Somehow Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments released their debut album through Warner Bros’ imprint American, run by Rick Rubin. Ron House, former singer from Great Plains, led the group for six years, releasing limited-release singles until they eventually made the Bait and Switch debut on an $800 budget. The band hails from Columbus, Ohio and the midwestern rock feel runs rampant through the record. You get the feeling that the Rubin and American swept them up to make some cash off the mid 90s grunge craze, though The Slave Apartments vibe much more with 80s punk and trashed-out Replacements/Husker Du midwestern bar rock.
House was diagnosed with cancer in the early 90’s. It’s no coincidence that the album’s opener “My Mysterious Death (Turn It Up)” sets the up-front, aggressive, fuck-you tone of the whole record. He briefly alludes to his cancer scare later on during “You Can’t Kill Stupid,” but before I get too into the lyrics, we should really discuss the sound of this record. It’s certainly scuzzy lo-fi 90s punk a la Guided By Voices (who the band toured with semi-regularly), and while House’s distinctive Daniel Johnston/Beat Happening-ish vocals are the obvious reference point for the band’s sound, the guitar work of Bob Petric seems to really hold everything together. Petric has a slashy proto-metal style, like he’d been listening to Pentagram and the Minutemen at the same time. The production also hard-pans the bass and guitar away from each other which helps the bare-bones sound and makes the dance-y bass stand out more.
Lyrically, you have to give it up for House — he’s a loud smart-ass who really sticks to his guns when it comes to being honest in the context of the band’s messy midwestern punk. “Negative Guest List” attacks the inane scenester aspect of guest lists head on (“Even if I pay/ I can’t get in”). “Contract Dispute” comes off as an obvious self-referential, self-fulfilling prophecy; 0f course, Rick Rubin’s label would try to screw the band over within the next year! “Quarrel With the World” has some surf-riffs and replicates the spirit of the Mats’ “Kids Don’t Follow.” “Is She Shy” questions the intentions of new-wave girls versus punk rock girls — you can completely feel the vitriol/honest confusion House has for new wave’s relationship with punk. There’s so many ties to his location, too. House gets at the philosophical values brought about by shitty midwestern cities during “Down on High St.” where he discusses the only street in Columbus where he likes to get drunk.
The musicality of the band must also be noted. There’s a certain joy in the way the last word in each line of “Cheater’s Heaven” slips into the next one. And you can’t really find a sound comparison for the exhibition that is “RnR Hall of Fame.” With its swelling bass, drum freakouts, and whammy bar distorted-guitar heroics, the backdrop is perfect for House’s sneering indictment of Cleveland’s museum for rock. The liner notes state: “I remember myself, as a kid in Cleveland, staring at the big black hole that would one day become the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, thinking that me, a little skinny kid with a guitar, could one day empty it.” It’s not as if there’s any subtlety to the band’s attitude toward conventional rock tropes and avenues. House and crew would go on to release their next albums on more independent labels and you should definitely seek them out. Though you would be hard-pressed to find more raw midwestern punk songs than the ones found on the Slave Apartments’ debut.
