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DEVO Retrospective - Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo! (1978)

Immediately met with commercial middling and critical confusion, Devo's first album has in recent years been hailed as a masterwork of post-punk energy and anxiety. It acts as both a mission statement and veritable journey through a devolved world, and it's hard not to at least be a little convinced of Devo's ideology just because the music is so damn good.

CONTENT WARNING: Discussion of ableism including ableist slurs

Album Cover

Uniforms

Songs

Track 1: Uncontrollable Urge

What a fucking start.

From the first notes of the song, you can tell this is something different to anything you've heard before. (Unless you've heard Devo before.) It's got the intensity and energy of punk, but it's so mechanical. Most punk was meant to be loose and frenetic, because the people making it were teenagers and young adults with a lot to say and frustration at not being able to say it. Devo fit into that demographic, but they approached music with surgical precision. There wasn't a lot of improvisation, and the entire band is tight as hell. The riffs are punchy, every section of the song repeats for just the right number of times, the energy rises and falls at perfect moments. This song is immaculately constructed, frenetic, and overall an incredible introduction of the band to the world.

This song is also a great metric for whether you'll like earlier Devo songs, as this is one of the best ones. Do you like songs constructed from a small sample of very good riffs, repeated with very little variation, almost like echolalia in song form? Do you like songs with punk guitar, with synth used as more of a spice than an ingredient? Do you like drums acting not as a solid foundation which holds up your house, but more like a tumultuous boat rocking in the waves, making you sick and uneasy but also being the only thing keeping you from drowning? You might like early Devo, or at least you like weird metaphors. Speaking of weird metaphors, the song itself is a very high energy song, and it also is just about having a lot of energy. It's probably also about jerking off. Devo has a lot of songs about jerking off, or that mention it, or that are about something else but evoke jerking off just for fun. That last one is a big one, so keep in mind: a lot of Devo songs will sound unsexual but be about sex, and a lot of Devo songs will sound very explicit but will be about something entirely unsexy.

Here's a brilliant performance from ABC's Fridays. This is from 1980 or 81, but they're wearing era-appropriate costumes and this is basically how they've always performed the song. The choreography is fantastic, everyone I've ever showed this video to has been stunned by how precise and methodical the movements are. Devo, when performing live, just does not look like any other band. This specific performance stands out just because of the shape of the stage, meaning the ending portion of the song where the band assembles into formation and jumps in time with the guitar strumming is even more intense with just how close the band gets to the audience. Devo is serious about their message, their performance, the world they've constructed, and they will communicate that even if they have to yell it directly into your ears from one foot away.

Quick reminder to bring ear protection if you ever perform or experience live music.

Track 2: (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction

Uncontrollable Urge is a fantastic song, but I also lied about it. It really wasn't the song that introduced the world to Devo. It was the first song on the album, but nobody listens to an album from a band they've never heard before. So how did people hear about them?

Devo appeared on SNL on October 14, 1978. (According to IMDB; a lot of videos of this performance are labeled 1979 and I don't think that's correct.) I would link the performance, but for some reason SNL has a strangely fervent stranglehold on their content. All the clips from this performance are either limited to less than a minute or else cropped in some way to avoid being taken down. This is the same reason it took me many years to see the "More Cowbell" sketch. Thanks, whatever law team is behind this. This surely will make people watch SNL the way you intended. Anyway, the performance is great and I'm saying that from a distant memory of it because I can't watch it myself currently.

The video for Satisfaction is a classic, full of warped imagery interspersed with the band's bizarre and disquieting stage presence. I still think Jerry's stumble during the break before the last chorus is one of the most inspired pieces of choreography in performance history.

If the last two paragraphs seemed disconnected, it's because I had a whole section connecting Devo's appearance on SNL to the world of music videos, how television became the way people discovered music, and how Devo used their visual style as a means to attract attention and spread their message. But I had my facts wrong, partly because a lot of reporting about music videos at this time period are very blurry and meld a lot of years together. Devo were pioneers to music videos, but also music videos have sort of been around since television has been around. Artists would perform live on television, they would often be lip-syncing to the album version of the song, there would be premade visuals and costumes and sometimes the whole performance would be pre-recorded. That's basically a music video. Also, MTV didn't exist until 1981, but plenty of music videos had been made before then. I've heard that early MTV showed a lot of Devo alongside other art bands, and I don't think that's true either. MTV's first video shown was "Video Killed The Radio Star", a song I love and also a choice that shows a surprising amount of self awareness on the part of the channel. But looking at a list of the first 100 videos shown on MTV, there's no Devo and a whole lot of REO Speedwagon and Styx and Pat Benatar. Nothing against those artists, but that calls into question the story I've seen repeated many times that music videos were a scarce medium made only by artsy groups in the late seventies until MTV's success.

I sort of had to get all that context out of the way because it greatly overshadows the song itself, at least in retrospectives about the band. It makes sense; a band with such a strongly defined image will spend more time talking about how people remember seeing them as opposed to the songs. Which is a shame, because the song itself is one of the most interesting thing Devo ever did.

I'll try to avoid telling the entire story because this section is really long, but the short version is that Satisfaction was an instrumental before it was a cover, but as a cover it is nothing short of brilliant. Starting with the drum pattern, which has often been read as being backwards to most beats in music, immediately followed by the robotic and frankly dorky guitar riff, the bassline referred to as some twist on reggae, and then the ascending detuned guitar. This gets across a message very important to Devo: something is fucking wrong.

The original song Satisfaction (which I haven't heard because I'm a philistine) is about one thing: Mick Jagger wants satisfaction, and he isn't getting it right now. Big emphasis on "right now"; the song is clearly about someone who has gotten satisfaction in the past, and will certainly get it in the future. Devo, on the other hand, frames Satisfaction as a song about someone who might not ever get satisfaction, may never have gotten it in the past, and possibly doesn't even know what satisfaction looks or feels like. It's a song brimming with angst, before that word got co-opted as an insult against music your teenage kids like and you hate.

I've read an article about this song's relationship with musical concepts of tension and release. This is a music theory concept that wades into the waters of "you can just tell" or "it's based on vibes" that I don't really understand. But, I'll try my best. Uncontrollable Urge is a song that has more traditional tension and release, but Devo songs in general have more tension than release. Satisfaction takes that to the extreme: a song that's all tension, no release. No crash cymbals, no synth swells, a song that just keeps subtly adding layers which all start and stop at the exact same time with no signals other than just "this is the part of the song where all the instruments stop". Most notable to me is the "baby" section, where Mark Mothersbaugh lets out a rapid 34 "baby"s in 10 seconds. The speed and length of that section is notable, especially because it's even faster and twice as long in some early live performances, but what's especially relevant is how it ends. There's no pause afterwards for breath, it doesn't build up energy to a more intense section of the song. It starts suddenly, it stops suddenly, Mark sings at normal speed immediately before and after, and the rest of the song does not change at all during that section. It's as if he's decided the song doesn't get across how frustrated he is, and has to sing "baby" for every time he's thought about not getting satisfaction in the past five minutes.

In that way, you might view this song as redundant. Uncontrollable Urge and Satisfaction are both about having a strong emotional feeling (an "urge" one might say) and not being able to fulfill it, and also probably that feeling is probably unfettered youthful lust. But, even though they have those in common, I think the tone is what separates these two songs, and possibly why I think Uncontrollable Urge isn't really about sex. As he says in Uncontrollable Urge, he's going to "scream and shout it". Whatever his urge is, it's not upsetting him; he's letting all that energy flow through him. Mark has described it in the past as a song about some nebulous youthful energy. (Although I like Uncontrollable Urge a lot, I can't say I relate to it; my youthful energy peaked in high school and I instead developed youthful chronic fatigue.) Uncontrollable Urge is a song to dance to, a song to (based on descriptions of early Devo concerts) do drugs and jump around and smash things to. Satisfaction is not really suited for that. It's a song about suppression. It's a song for gritting your teeth, clenching your legs, and holding a textbook in your lap. Well, it's not that suppressed; it's more like talking to your close friends about having to do those things and how girls just don't understand you. And that's something Mick Jagger would never have written.

Track 3: Praying Hands

This song is fine. It's okay.

Which is weird, right? I mean it's not weird for a band to make a song that's just okay. That part is normal. Many musicians will write a full album, and just choose the good songs to be singles, and the rest of the tracks are there to make people not feel ripped off. But Devo had a few dozen songs already written when they went to record their first album. It is very odd to me that Praying Hands made the first album. It's a perfectly okay song.

Based on the title, you might assume Praying Hands is a satire of religion, and you'd be right. I guess. Praying Hands is a sort of oblique song, one of many Devo songs that will point to a subject and just assume that by association, Devo must therefore be insulting that subject. Like, here's some lyrics:

The left hand diddling
While the right hand goes to work

I think this is a masturbation reference?

You got praying hands
You got praying hands
They pray for no man
They pray for no man

This one I guess is a criticism of prayer? Is it saying that prayer doesn't do anything? Is it saying that people who pray don't actually want good things?

Okay relax
And assume the position
Go into doggy submission

This one is clearer, saying that being religious is submission to someone else. Not terribly insightful, but it's something.

Wash your hands three times a day
Always do what your mom and dad say
Brush your teeth or they'll fall away
Wash your hands three times a day

I guess this is saying the same thing, you have to follow all these specific rules as part of religion, or just being American. It feels like a lot of separate snippets of thoughts that never really got woven together. Musically, the song is slower than the first two and doesn't punch nearly as hard. The only reason I make a big deal about how okay this song is, is that Devo performed it live pretty often in the 70s. I guess audiences responded to it? During live performances, Mark will walk into the audience and demand to know what different audience members are doing with their hands, which is fun enough, but doesn't make the album version of the song any better.

Track 4: Space Junk

Maybe part of why I feel confused about Praying Hands is that Space Junk is, in my opinion, a much better song, but doesn't seem to resonate as much with listeners and wasn't played nearly as often in the 70s. I think this song is super fun; a sort of comedy tragedy about a woman who gets crushed to death by space debris, and how her lover (or possibly a complete stranger who just happens to like her) is terribly upset but also can't really express it. How do you rally against space junk? Where do you protest?

I earlier compared Devo to musical echolalia. This song exemplifies that; there's not just two sections, but exactly two riffs. The most expression comes from Alan Myers on drums, who provides an excellent fill right before the solo. Actually, is it a solo? It's really only one note played repeatedly and also Jerry sings over it. Speaking of which, this song has no Mark at all; Jerry and Bob 1 trade vocals during the A section and Jerry is alone in the B section. I just like when bands let everyone sing.

There's not much to say. It's short, it's fun, the B section has some weird synth and vocals going on courtesy of Brian Eno. Worst case, if you don't like it, it's the shortest song on side A.

Track 5: Mongoloid

This is where the content warning comes into play.

If you don't know, "mongoloid" is a very antiquated term for Down syndrome, which has been deemed a slur in retrospect. Actually, the term had been deemed harmful as far back as the 60s, but it apparently remained in use into the 80s. This is fascinating to me, as I had never heard the word before listening to the Devo song.

Sort of.

The main reason the term "mongoloid" has been deemed a slur is because it originates from racist theory that there are three racial groups, those being Caucasoids, Mongoloids, and Negroids. This is where I heard that word, because for some reason this very racist theory was explained in my high school history class as something which was incorrect, but not taught why it was morally objectionable. To be clear, this grouping of people is not something you come about naturally by studying differences between groups, genetically or culturally. This is the conclusion you come to if you have a lot of assumptions about race already in mind, and you want a theory that supports those beliefs. English physician John Langdon Down noted that people with a certain genetic defect would appear, to him, closer to someone of the Mongoloid race than the Caucasoid. He used this point to argue that since someone born to Caucasoid parents could have what he called "Mongolian idiocy", that all humans therefore must have some genetics in common. Which is a very racist way to come to an anti-racist conclusion, I must say.

To be clear, "mongoloid" would likely be deemed a slur even without the racist context; "retarded" has also been deemed a slur, even though its etymology literally means "slowed development". I don't really understand how the euphemism treadmill happens, I don't read medical journals looking for newly discovered conditions to use as insults, but whatever. Something unfortunate is that I've seen a new streak of people my age using "mongoloid" as an insult against other people online, along with the newly-in-fashion-as-insult "schizophrenic". I suppose I'm getting to watch the treadmill moving right in front of me, and it's not something I like watching.

Anyway, all this context is important because this song's lyrical content, intentionally or not, sort of requires a conversation around its themes and how it relates to Devo. Actually, we'll have an intermission and talk about the song musically.

This is the second and last time on the album that we get Bob 1 and Jerry as the only singers, and they do great as a sort of devolved Greek chorus describing this guy's life. The drums on this song sound very different to the rest of the album, seemingly having an extra delay on the snare, and the synths play more of a role in making this song sound giant. The last chorus is immense, and the "whoo" at the end gives me a rush every time. Great damn song.

Okay, back to the heavy stuff.

When I first looked up Mongoloid, and read what the song was about, I came to a conclusion very quickly about the song's message. Devo imagines a better society in which people with disabilities, even those seen currently as debilitating, can live normal lives to the point that those around them may not even notice. Super inspiring, and also not something I had ever heard in a song before. But then, over time, I learned more about Devo's disgust with society, how a lot of their messages are criticisms of culture, and also learned that "mongoloid" is not just outdated terminology, but has actually been deemed offensive for many years, even before the song was written. And then I got very, very afraid.

It is so easy to read this song as offensive. It doesn't even seem aware that it could have more than one reading, and it makes no attempts to clarify. Devo has a lot of songs about their problems with society, and this is a song about a person with a disability leading a normal life. Just put two and two together, and suddenly a song I read as super empowering becomes super disgusting. I almost don't want to write it, but to clarify: it is very easy to read this song as ableist, as saying that disabled people can live normal lives but shouldn't, that people with genetic defects are supposed to be living worse lives but our society is so corrupt or malformed or whatever that even people with no redeeming qualities (meaning any disability) can survive without being afraid or in poverty. Full disclosure: I have seen multiple Devo fans online say this is what the song is about, and say they like it for that reason. Frankly, that shit makes me nauseous, and I'm not even going to engage with it, although I likely will discuss Devo's weird right-wing fans some other time.

So with this horrific interpretation of the song in mind... I kept listening to it. There was a part of me that just didn't accept that that was what the song was about. How could it be? The song ends so triumphantly, so positively. Devo is a band steeped in irony, to the point that they intentionally try to make it difficult to understand them, but if any song is meant to be interpreted directly and without irony, surely it's this one.

And it turns out, I was right. Sort of. I found a video at one point of Jerry Casale talking about the song sometime in the 2010s, where he says "it's a defense of the mongoloids from the real mongoloids". So first thing is that it's a defense, meaning that it is indeed a positive song and not an attack on disabled people. But also, what does the rest mean? Who are the "real" mongoloids? And also, how can you defend a marginilized group whose categorization had to be renamed because too many people were using it as an insult, while also using that same group's name as an insult? I'll chalk that last one up to a politically incorrect attempt at "reclamation" for a group he's not a part of and instead focus on the first part.

Presumably, what Jerry means is that the song is a defense of people with Down syndrome, saying that people who are ableist and say that the mentally handicapped have no place in society are themselves guilty of limited thinking, an attribute they apply to their targets. If so, then this song is actually different than both of my first two assumptions. My first inclination was closer, but defenses don't often work with hypotheticals. If this song is a defense, it's not a description of a future society, it's describing something that could happen right now, and assigning a positive moral value to that happening. If so, that's even more inspiring than I originally thought. Of course, both I and Devo understand that "doing well" in modern society is not actually that good, there is a profound hollowness to it, but the point still stands: people with disabilities are not outliers, they are not a problem that needs to be addressed. People with disabilities of any kind are human beings. They belong here.

To be fair, when I heard Jerry say that, I was worried that he might be full of shit and that he was covering up what the song used to mean, but no, I was wrong. I've found old interviews from when the album came out, and Jerry said the exact same thing back then too. Points for consistency, and for writing such a progressive song. Mark has talked about how they used to receive letters saying the song was harmful, alongside receiving letters from people with Down syndrome or their family members thanking the band for writing a song about them. Jerry has also gone on record saying that he almost certainly wouldn't write the song today. That's fair, but also I am so very happy the song exists. It uses language that probably was out of date even back then, it's not as clear as it could have been about the subject, but it's not a song about using the right words or spreading a message as obviously as possible. It's a gorgeous journey, about how someone can overcome so many challenges that they can appear as if they haven't overcome anything, and how that can be a victory on its own.

Something off topic is I've read a few other reviews of Devo's entire back catalogue, and one that stuck out was a person who was actually super offended at this song, saying it was ableist and writing lyrics to a couple of pretend unreleased Devo songs about how they hate people with cerebral palsy. I obviously disagree with them, but what's more interesting to me is that this person also used the word "retarded" throughout their reviews, which left me feeling very confused about the entire thing.

Track 6: Jocko Homo

This is not a song for normal people. It's definitely not by normal people. But if this songs finds you in the right time, in the right place, it will change your life.

Jocko Homo is a song second. It is a manifesto first. Devo is here to tell you what they see, what they've learned, and they're doing it over a song designed to make you scream like an animal.

The song opens in 7/8 time with a descending series of chords, followed by a seemingly atonal riff and a synth line that sounds like alien machinery being used incorrectly. Then, Mark, acting somewhere between preacher and animal tamer, comes to announce that we are not men, and we haven't been in a long time.

We're pinheads now
We are not whole
We're pinheads all
Jocko homo

The phrase "jocko homo" comes from a hyper-religious pamphlet titled "Jocko-Homo Heavenbound", which attempts to disprove evolution through pointing out "trick rules" like that both camouflage and bright flashy colors are claimed to be useful for survival, or that some species lay many eggs to increase survival odds whereas others will have one child and use social structure to help it survive. Not to argue with a hundred year old anti-evolution tract, but I'm not even sure what the argument is. Even if you don't believe in evolution, you still have to believe that camouflage works and that some species really do lay a bunch of eggs.

This song also feels like a piece of ideological writing rather than a song because it has a lot of different sections that have been added over time. At base is the first section, in 7/8 time, where Mark lays out the philosphy of de-evolution, and then a 4/4 time section that pounds like a feral heartbeat, with Mark demanding to know "are we not men" and the band excitedly responding "We are Devo". This simpler structure is [https://youtu.be/Zk1DNzg0LWs?si=v8AM2zIbrsvcpgSp](used in the original short film). The album adds a verse in the middle of the 4/4 section, commonly called the "God made man" section after the first lyric. This section plays out more like a march and only lasts for a few seconds, and also seems to posit a theory that God invented monkeys, and then used them to divinely create man. Presumably this section is not to be taken seriously. In concert, the song is even longer, with the band ripping off their outfits at the start of the 4/4 section, Mark heading into the audience to perform the "are we not men / we are Devo" chant with them, then he calls out "I got a rhyme that comes in a riddle / what's round on the ends, high in the middle?" with the band responding "O - HI - O" after each line, then the "God made man" section, then a reprise of the "are we not men" chanting before the 7/8 time ending.

All of this is to say, Devo could not get away with a song as long and as convoluted as this one if they did not get the audience on their side first. And in early concerts, they didn't, which led to the band getting pissed and playing the 4/4 section for upwards of twenty minutes. This is not really something I would want to experience, but it does remind us that Devo is gravely serious about their beliefs. Jocko Homo is not just a song, it's a command. It's telling you to get in formation. And sure, if I didn't like this band, this song would be annoying and I would resent them for trying to get me to respond as they want. But man, if you let yourself be curious about what they're saying, you may find yourself seeing the world in a much different way by the end of it.

Track 7: Too Much Paranoias

This is probably the most experimental song on the album. If you asked me to take one song off this album, it would be this one. And you didn't even ask me to do that, which says a lot for how I feel about this song.

I like the guitar work, and there's some cool weird synth stuff that happens. Super echoey, which I guess is to make you feel like you're alone in a cave. Also, if you listen with headphones, you get this really cool effect where it sounds like the guitar is reaching around your right ear during the last note of the riff. That's about all I have to say that's positive.

If you look up the lyrics to this song, you won't really learn anything. This is probably the most oblique Devo song, to the point that I'm not sure that it's about anything. The only topic in the song that lasts for more than one line is paranoia.

There's too much paranoias
There's too much paranoias
My momma's afraid to tell me the things she's afraid of

So I guess it's a song about fear? It doesn't list anything someone might be afraid of, and I'm not sure why they're so interested in their mom's fears. I mean, I don't know what my mom is afraid of, but I assume death and disease and heights are probably up there because that's just what most people are afraid of.

The only other notable thing about this song is the mention of a Big Mac attack, followed by a reciting of our national motto, which is the assurance that Burger King will let you have it your way. Not sure how that relates to paranoia, but the notable part is that every Devo biography mentions that Jerry wanted to put fast food slogans in songs before Devo even started, and then about half mention that he finally got to do it in this song, and absolutely none of them go on to explain what the hell this song is about.

I dunno what else to say. Uhhh. It's the shortest song on the album. They say "too much paranoias" instead of "too many paranoias" or perhaps "too much paranoia". Devo likes to do spelling wrong sometimes. Is this insightful

Track 8: Gut Feeling/Slap Your Mammy

Sometimes you hear a song that's so good, you think to yourself "I have to have heard this before". A song is so identifiably perfect, so incredibly designed, that surely it has gotten wild acclaim. That's how I feel about this song.

It's not my favorite song on the album, but that's a different question. In terms of songwriting, "Gut Feeling/Slap Your Mammy" is absolutely the strongest song on the album. It doesn't waste a moment, it builds up an incredible amount of tension only to release it by changing to a completely different song for the last minute. Gut Feeling is a song about being in an intense relationship that leaves the narrator feeling confused and hopeless, and Slap Your Mammy is a song about whacking off (probably).

Not a lot to say, this song is extremely good. It does the occasional Devo trick of doing weird things with well-known cliché phrases:

I look for sniffy linings
But you're rotten to the core
I've had just about all I can take
You know I can't take it no more

Actually, Gut Feeling does that trick the most of any Devo song; the entire song is clichés, but chained together in a way to paint a very grim picture of an unhappy relationship. The phrase "sniffy linings" is fascinating to me. It's not silver linings, all official lyric sources including my physical copy of the album says "sniffy linings". Maybe a reference to cocaine? Maybe something that only makes sense to Mark Mothersbaugh and Jerry Casale? I have no idea. The second verse also includes the line "tongs of love", which is also incredible imagery. I'm just filling space here. This is a good ass song. I'm not a music critic I'm just some guy. It sounds good in a good way.

Track 9: Come Back Jonee

This song is about JFK, I guess. This seems to be a Devo fan favorite, with a lot of people saying it's their second or third favorite off the album. Personally, I got very tired of this song after hearing it just a few times. Something about the chord progression and the speed at which Alan Myers drums, it doesn't pump me up so much as just exhausts me. I feel like I'm being chased while listening to it.

This song is very odd. It tells the story of a man named Jonee, which is pronounced Johnny but Devo is too cool 4 skool I guess. Jonee plays guitar, falls in love, gets his heart broken but also breaks her heart, and then dies in a car crash. The most direct comparison point of this song is Johnny B. Goode, also about a guy with a guitar with rockstar aspirations. The only difference is Jonee is killed before he could make it big, making the whole thing a tragedy. I mean, Johnny B. Goode doesn't actually get famous during the course of his song, but the last verse at least implies he's gonna make it. Assuming he doesn't die in a car crash, I guess.

The song also evokes Johnny B. Goode by having Bob 1 play soundalike riffs partway through the song, although he intentionally plays his riffs slightly too fast to make the whole thing more uncomfortable. This, combined with the chanting of "Jonee, Jonee" and Mark yelling faster and more upset every chorus, creates this weird vibe that not only are the band mourning the loss of Jonee, but seemingly believe that if they scream enough, Jonee will literally return from the dead. Which, if it's not clear, is a positive to me; I like when Devo does the trick where some parts of the band seem to be losing control while the rest are still in mechanical lockstep. My problem is the rest of it; it feels like a five minute song even though it's barely longer than Mongoloid and Jocko Homo.

Also, maybe this is a generational problem, but I just don't really care about JFK imagery. As a person born close to the millennium, JFK is the president who got shot. Well, the second one. Actually, several presidents have been assassinated, but the only ones I was taught were Lincoln and JFK. When I first heard this song, I thought it was mocking the JFK mythology, which I found really interesting. I don't think anyone should make an idol out of a political figure, really; you will always be disappointed. However, based on some interviews I've listened to, it seems like Mark and Jerry have some sort of reverence for JFK. I can't relate to that, I simply was never taught what JFK did or what kind of president he was. I do know that he had affairs constantly, but this song isn't about that. Hell, maybe it should have been.

Track 10: Sloppy (I Saw My Baby Gettin')

This song almost seems like a joke, but not like in an intentionally-bad-and-unlistenable kind of way. It's not at your expense. You're meant to be laughing, or at least enjoying it.

This song is definitely an artifact of a time when people listened to entire albums in order, and when people didn't listen to individual songs from albums or live performances except for the hand-picked singles.

I don't have much else to say, the bit is obvious and up-front. The song repeatedly stops and starts again. The lyrics seem to be about a guy who, when in intimate moments, falters in terms of accuracy. It sounds excited and catchy.

This song definitely fits more into the Devo idea of trying to write devolved music. What if a song ended, and then the same song started again? What if we played the intro to the song and then immediately stopped the song again?

Track 11: Shrivel-Up

I will be up front: I don't actually know what "shrivel up" means.

This song is jerky and atonal and I find it super enjoyable. It's like listening to salt and vinegar chips. As far as I can tell, the lyrics are about entropy, but not in the de-evolution "we are returning to apes" sense. It seems to literally be about aging, about degradation of the body and mind. This isn't a subject Devo covers often (I'm not even sure they have another song about it), but it's one that fits extremely well as the last song on the album. Focusing on aging takes de-evolution to a personal place. The rest of the album is the band on a stage, pointing at the signs of de-evolution across the world. Now, on this final song, Devo is speaking directly to you. The guitars echo in what seems like a vast but contained space, and the vocals almost whisper directly into your ear. It feels like the song takes place inside your own head.

A song about aging is often compared to watching your life flash before your eyes. This song is more like being strapped to a chair and watching your life be stretched and ripped until it's unrecognizable.

There's been long debate in the Devo fandom about who actually sings this song, Mark or Jerry. Their voices were quite similar at the time, especially through certain microphones. For years, I genuinely thought that every song on the album was sung by Mark. I do currently think this song is sung by Jerry, but it seems like we won't ever know.

Extras

Devo can't be contained in single album releases. There's a ton of re-releases, demos, live performances, and singles that exist outside the confines of studio albums. Those are as important to me as the albums, so I want to mention those as well. For this album, the only note I have is the following.

2009 Warner Bros Re-release

In 2009, Warner Brothers re-released the albums "Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo!" and "Freedom of Choice" as a box set. The Q/A disc came with a live version of the album, from just a few months before the release. Apparently, they celebrated the release of this set by not only performing the entirety of Q/A a second time, but then by performing the entirety of Freedom of Choice live the next day. I haven't listened to those performances, but I feel like I should at some point because it was just a year before their comeback album Something for Everybody, and I'm sure that those performances and the associated album re-releases helped play a part in bringing Devo back to the public eye.

Final Thoughts

There's a good reason why Q/A is a lot of Devo fan's favorite album. If there's only one Devo album you ever listen to, it really should be this one. That said, I do have things to say about all of Devo's albums, so I will be talking about the rest of them also.