Viagra Boys: Welfare Jazz

Though Viagra Boys and Refused play vastly different styles of music — the former plays dancey, retro-punk, and the latter, thunderous hardcore — the bands have more than a few things in common. First, there are the surface-level commonalities, like they’re both Swedish punk bands with an affinity for jazz. Refused named their 1998 masterpiece The Shape of Punk to Come after Ornette Coleman’s groundbreaking bebop record, while the Viagra Boys literally put the word jazz in the title of their new LP. But where Refused pitched communism as the answer to the problems of the working class, the Viagra Boys’ mission is hazier. Are they writing post-punk songs to politicize the proletariat, or are they writing joke songs to cheer them up? It’s unclear, but once the beat kicks in, it may be beside the point.

Welfare Jazz, the Stockholm band’s sophomore effort, isn’t a huge musical departure from the band’s 2019 debut, Street Worms. They still shine brightly when necromancing 80s genres like new wave, art rock, and post-punk. Despite “Creatures” being a dark, bass-heavy anthem for the down and cast out, the silky saxophone break-down that emerges half-way through still feels totally necessary. The synths glimmering underneath the chorus are in stark contrast to singer Sebastion Murphy’s tales of desperation: “We don't need money, we trade in copper / And stolеn bikes or shiny things with lots of buttons on them.” There are left turns, like the John Prine Cover “In Spite of Ourselves” and the oddly-placed gothic-western tune “To the Country.” These songs aren’t bad, especially when they’re ripped to shreds by a cacophony of saxophone squeals. Unfortunately, they stick out like cowboy boots at a Joy Division show and probably could’ve been shelved for a later project.

Murphy sounds like that drunk at a party who cracks you up while you’re there but you can’t stop worrying about on the way home. His melodic growl feels vital and unhinged, whether he’s blithering over skittering high-hats on “Girls and Boys,” or crooning on top of bluesy guitar chugs on “Into the Sun.” He transitions naturally from “Secret Canine Agent” — the most paranoid song about weiner dogs that you’ve ever heard — to “I Feel Alive”, a distorted waltz about the fragility of sobriety. “Oh, Jesus Christ, I feel alive / Oh, just last week, I thought that I was gonna die,” Murphy howls, and you want to believe him. But then, you have your doubts as he confesses the next line over a trudging kick drum and eerie piano: “And I've been clean now for some time / It's been five days since the last time I got high.” Rock bottom is no laughing matter. But humor is a powerful tool for coping with tragedy — both personal and societal — and on Welfare Jazz, and the band is wielding it like an inflatable hammer.

Check out the song “Creatures” off of Welfare Jazz below: