Mondays no longer sweet

By Kelsey Whipple

Published Aug. 28, 2007

Happy Mondays are the kind of group you hate to see go down, but on their new record, Uncle Dysfunktional, that's just what the mad Mancunians have done — and fast.

The good ol' days of acid house and Factory Records are gone, and though Shaun Ryder and company have kept themselves alive (no one knows how) through bitter break-ups, bad drugs and even worse behavior, they couldn't keep excess from catching up with them.

This is the third time Shaun Ryder — the man who never dies — has come back. And though this one began at this year's Coachella, that really only works for Madonna. It's not the time anymore for drum and bass dance music and lyrics drenched in narcotic nonsense that, though only the Mondays could pull them off, should have been left in their Factory back catalogue.

No one said the lyrics aren't fun, though, and often, they're even funny. On opener "Jellybean," Ryder sneers, "Now that I am naked I'm a lady, and now that I'm a lady I'm set free." He later proceeds to talk about his breasts. Listeners should be glad to know he still can't sing and the lyrics make as much sense as those in Mondays classics "Step On" and "Kinky Afro." That is, none. At the song's close, Ryder admits, "I've made some mistakes, man." And this isn't his worst.

Uncle Dysfunktional, though for the most part a mistake, is an album of experience, and it's not that hard to see what "Angels and Whores" is about. "Anti Warhole (On the Dancefloor)" proves more difficult, but Mondays fans should be used to both the random and the inane by now. After all, when you're in the position the Mondays find themselves in, it's easy to turn to the bizarre. Their history has not been a fluid one, with their line-up remixed as often as their tracks. In the tradition of almost all British brother bands, including The Kinks, the Ryder brothers no longer see eye-to-eye. Bassist Paul Ryder left the band permanently in 2000, leaving brother Shaun and dancer Bez (that's really his name and that's really all he does) to be the sole creative influences for the Mondays. The original "Twenty Four Hour Party People" weren't, and still aren't, without their issues.

Even after the surprising success of side band Black Grape in the '90s, the hayday of Shaun and Bez, touted by Factory founder Tony Wilson, is long-since past. There's something to say for nostalgia, but the collective sniff let go at the release of Uncle Dysfunktional is unmerited. "Rats With Wings," with a title likely taken from the plot of the 2002 movie chronicling the band's downfall, is like a permanent elevator ride. In its up-and-down lyrics, you can still hear all the years of pints in Shaun's voice, but eventually you have to stop and get off.

If listeners expected anything the Mondays do to make sense, then they're as mad as the Mancs are. And, in the end, that's it. Uncle Dysfunktional is about as good as you would expect. Shaun Ryder's is the gob that launched a thousand house hits, and he got screwed on all of them. But heck, at least he's still alive.