In Review: Viagra Boys - Welfare Jazz

Toxic masculinity has been the coal in the engine for Viagra Boys’ sardonic output so far, more often than not critiquing the concept and their entanglement with its many negative aspects. Debut album Street Worms saw the Stockholm post-punks lambast the desire for a ‘normal life’, the inability to effectively communicate with loved ones, taking too many drugs, and subverting the macho needs to play sports. Results varied from hilarity to depravity. 

Album number two Welfare Jazz, however, pulls back the booze-fuelled caricatures, revealing a more three-dimensional depiction of life as an edgelord with a conscience, with a hefty helping of, er, jazz.

Frontman Seb Murphy’s tongue is still firmly in his cheek (his soft spot for dogs remains a common thread with ‘Canine Agent’ and the companion piece to ‘Best in Show’), but rather than simply addressing the toxic facets of masculinity with a sneer and a shrug , VB’s are now beginning to make amends and seeking penance for many past sins.

Lead single ‘Ain’t Nice’ introduces the album, a sludgy lament detailing the breakdown of a relationship because of Murphy’s inability to not be a dick. Centred around a muscly bassline and Murphy’s slurred delivery, the track wouldn’t feel out of place had it featured on Street Worms and will no doubt garner the same kinds of fare as cult anthem (and potential albatross) ‘Sports’ during a live set. But then, it begins to get weird. 

There’s short excerpts of sax jams sandwiched between tracks, ‘Cold Play’ could soundtrack a city detective crime caper, the disco-punk feel of ‘Girls & Boys’ even echoes Soulwax at times only for Murphy’s wry, intentional blabber to bring it back to street level. Blending elements of jazz, honky tonk, country, and even prog, you’re never quite sure whether Welfare Jazz is an earnest attempt and becoming ‘borderless’ or just a complete piss take. They’ve discovered hidden depths but haven’t gone all self-serious on us, and still rip. 

‘To The Country’ and a cover of the late John Prine’s ‘In Spite of Ourselves’ featuring Amyl and the Sniffers’ Amy Taylor bookend the album, the former expressing Murphy’s desire to pack up and move to the country and live with a pack of dogs with his girlfriend, a sentiment we’ve all shared at some point over the past ten months. It’s a touching, “more than meets the eye” moment, a physical intention to progress and Welfare Jazz in all it’s silliness and sincerity sees the band moving in that direction also. 

So, it seems Viagra Boys may’ve grown up, but I’ll hedge a bet there’s still plenty of debauchery left in the tank. 

Welfare Jazz is out now on YEAR0001.