Reatards - Grown Up, Fucked Up

Pitchfork 79

Jay Reatard was 18 when he recorded the Reatards' second album Grown Up, Fucked Up. The short time between the Memphis punks' extraordinary debut Teenage Hate and their new album had apparently taken a toll. "In the past year all innocence, all naiveness, and all kindness has all but been sucked out of my heart, my mind, and my soul," he wrote in the liner notes. By 1999, he'd already started to alienate some of the people around him. Guitarist Sean Redd stopped regularly hanging out with Jay outside of Reatards shows and only played on Grown Up, Fucked Up because Jay asked him. Jay once noted that about 27 different people had been Reatards at some point; the turn-around rate was significant.

There's footage of Reatards playing a Reno basement in 1999, which offers a pretty good illustration of his live presence at the time. He screams and thrashes everywhere, hitting the floor and smashing himself in the head multiple times. He chokes himself with the mic cable. He'd just been dumped; he is not kind when he described her in his between-songs banter. "I use [sic] to be a nice caring sweet kid that everyone loved," he wrote in the album's liner notes. "Now I'm just fucked and no one can fucking stand me." Grown Up, Fucked Up is about making the final transition from sweet-faced little Jimmy Lee Lindsey to Jay Reatard. There was no going back—from then on, he was that shrieking figure writhing on the Reno basement floor.

On Grown Up, Jay's chaotic rage is the driving force behind most of the songs. His enemies list on the record includes Led Zeppelin fans and the entire city of Memphis. On "No One Stands Me", Jay posits himself as a "dirty motherfucker," growling and screaming. Many of these songs are about feeling like the perpetual other. "I'm gonna break down," he repeatedly sings in one of the album's best hooks. It's ironic that this declaration is the album's closing sentiment (before the bonus cuts on Goner's new reissue)—he seems to have been going through a loud, violent breakdown all along.

Of all of Jay's many projects, Reatards are among the most primitive. While speed punk jams like "Sat. Night Suicide" and "Eat Your Heart Out" reinforce that idea, there are moments that begin to take it apart and predict where Jay would travel next. "Blew My Mind" is all muscular guitar and gang vocals right up until the bridge, when handclaps enter and the power-chord melody takes on a saccharine sheen. In glints, you can see the the aggressive-but-catchy sound he'd master on Blood Visions.

The middle of the album bogs down a little bit, with hooks and performances that blend into each other. The three bonus tracks from the 1999 "You're So Lewd" 7" feel tacked-on and inessential. Their cover of the Persuaders' "Heart of Chrome" is sluggish when stacked next to songs like "Sick When I See" and "Sat. Night Suicide". But even when this album's on the downswing, the Reatards are still screaming, blaring, and ferocious. Sometimes they trudge and sometimes they sprint, but they are always effective.

Jay Reatard pushed people's buttons, but he was beloved. This love shines through in the reissue's liner notes, which feature tributes from Goner Records' Eric Freidl and Empty Records' Meghan Smith. Both remember him for who he was—a frustrated teenager who broke disco balls and sought refuge in rock'n'roll. He was an incredible performer—an unhinged presence whose emotions seemed to be spilling out from all sides at all times. It's been five years since he died, and while many artists make angry rock'n'roll in the Reatards' wheelhouse, Jay's absence is felt. Many have tried, but nobody screams like that.