Pure and Pathetic

Pathetics get it Quite Right

by Don Fluckinger

Most nights, Putnam, Connecticut, is a pretty serene place. But on a recent snowy Saturday night, that silence was shattered by a punk-rock trio determined to make their mark on the region's music scene. So instead of playing as if they were shivering in a frozen basement (which they were), the Pathetics performed as if they were in front of thousands at Wembley Stadium. Everything about them -- the way singer/guitarist Dave Strandberg shouts out a chorus, how hard country-music veteran Chris Arundel pounds his drums, the way Rich Lorion's fingers glide over his bass -- is pure rock and roll. Tonight they are practicing at Arundel's house for several upcoming shows to celebrate the release of their debut album, Not Quite Right. Their rehearsal routine largely consists of cracking jokes, drinking beer, and playing their music very, very loudly. "See those houses?" asks Lorion, pointing to the surrounding homes. "Those people love us."

While the neighbors may not approve, many people do in fact love the Pathetics and have been eagerly awaiting the release of Not Quite Right. That album has brought new meaning to the term "long awaited debut." Originally scheduled to be finished last summer, the disc is only now ready for release. Why the delay? "We did it at my house," explains Lorion, who lives in Brookfield. "So we weren't under any time constraints."

Not helping matters is the fact that all three members live in different towns and have conflicting schedules, leaving the album to be recorded piecemeal. "We'd record four songs, then there'd be some downtime, we'd record another four songs, and there'd be more downtime," says Lorion.

But the wait was worth it. Not Quite Right is a gem, a collection of a dozen stellar songs that remind you why punk mattered in the first place. You can grasp what the Pathetics are all about when you hit the second track, a two-and-a-half minute wonder titled "My Baby's Got Rabies." The song is indeed about a crazy girlfriend with rabies ("The night we spent was so obscene/Now there's another sheet to clean"); and it's warped, catchy, and extremely funny.

And many other tunes display the same brand of deranged humor. "16 Hours" tells the tale of waking up with a barmaid and finding out you've married her (and is actually based on an episode of Designing Women). The rollicking "DK" is a plea for Jack Kevorkian to assist in a suicide for less than serious reasons ("Doctor, you know I gained a pound/Doctor, you know my wife's been found"). "Drunk Tank," with its bouncing bass and back-and-forth vocals, describes what happens when you have a few too many drinks; and "Boyfriend" is the chronicle of being stalked by a crazy woman.

Although the Pathetics have a talent for writing humorous songs, they also display a healthy amount of punk anger, as several of the album's tracks attack a variety of topics. "Don't Waste My Mind" lashes out at countless targets, from bill collectors to "corporate geeks," while "Peace, Love, and Greed" decries the hypocrisy of televangelists. And the album closer, "King Rat," is a vicious assault on a coworker that echoes the vindictiveness of Screeching Weasel.

Not Quite Right comes across as the musical cousin of such early Ramones' albums as Ramones and Leave Home (and that's not just because the Pathetics include their version of the Ramones' classic "The KKK Took My Baby Away"). Both groups share a twisted sense of humor, a way with a hook, and the ability to say so much with only three chords. But what sets the Pathetics apart from countless other punk bands is that they don't copy their idols note for note. Instead, the Pathetics play in the spirit of their heroes, and the end result is all the better because of it. It's not rocket science, but it may be Worcester's own Rocket to Russia.

Now that they're armed with an album, the question is: where does the saga of the Pathetics go from here? "We don't have any ambitions," states Strandberg blankly. "A night out, drinking some beer, having a good time -- that's all we're after," says Lorion.

"We should have been doing this 10 years ago," continues Strandberg as he light up a cigarette, "but we had our heads up our ass."

"We still do, but now we realize it," adds Lorion.

Despite the group's name and constant self-deprecation, the Pathetics take their craft seriously. "As a band, what we do we do pretty well," says Strandberg.

"We are what we are," chimes in Lorion, "and people either like us or they don't."

And as Lorion and Strandberg head back into the basement to finish practicing, Arundel pauses, and offers his take on the Pathetics: "Better than country, dude."

You can hop on the bandwagon and see the Pathetics play live at their CD-release party at the Lucky Dog Music Hall on March 20, the Above Club on March 26, and Ralph's on April 2.