I have a riddle for you. What do you get when you cross the more commercial efforts of the Butthole Surfers with the saner elements of Frank Zappa and Mothers of Invention?
Give up?
Why, Love Kills Theory, of course. Now, you might not think that those two musical endeavors would mix too well, but if anyone can make it work, it's Love Kills Theory impresario Cevin Soling. Soling grew up listening to the MC 5, the Residents, Jim Carroll, and various artists experimenting with electronic vocals. Soling has cultivated the roots of his musical foundation into a creative brew on his debut, Happy Suicide Jim.
Soling is something of an eccentric renaissance man, releasing music, self-published children’s books, and film documentaries. On Happy Suicide Jim, Soling contributes ample guitar licks and robotic electronically enhanced vocals. He is backed by Bill Brandau on keyboards, Jim Minics on guitar, Darren Pilato on bass and Jason Stewart on drums. Throughout Happy Suicide Jim, Soling and his ensemble dredge up sounds akin to some of the Surfer’s later work, including Hairway to Steven and Electric Larryland. But where the Surfers are mostly an acid-tinged comedy act, Love Kills Theory explores some dark domains on Happy Suicide Jim.
Sometimes, the lyrics are a bit remote, especially on “Region of the Worms”, where Soling’s metaphors wander into an almost science fiction-like landscape. But, after all, the album purposely dangles on the edge on insanity, so cryptic poetry should be piece of this shattered jigsaw puzzle of an album.
As interesting as Happy Suicide Jim is, its main fault lies in Soling’s contradictory infatuation with edginess. At times, the music happily teeters into uncharted territory, much like a tipsy gazelle prancing in a field of lions. But other times, the group only scratches the surface, playing it safe staying within the boundaries established by Soling’s musical mentors. This makes Happy Suicide Jim a bit of an uneven ride. It would be nice to hear Soling use the music he adores as a launching pad for expression rather than an altar to worship at.
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