Not their kind of Garbage

In the mid ’90s, Garbage was the first band to unlock the secret success of combining rival music genres. Their specialty twisted between alternative rock and dance/electronica. After four albums, the band members called it quits in 2005 citing the greedy, controlling demands of record labels.

With the collapse of the music industry, these four self-proclaimed misfits decided to give it another go, this time without anyone breathing down their necks. But after seven years off, they returned to a music scene where genre-blending had become the norm – mainstream and independent alike. So would the three American producers and one feisty Scottish woman still stake their distinctive sound in the music world?

As an openly gay teen in the late ’90s, I had my own sense of being a misfit in both high school and the gay youth scene. Garbage became my savior as lead singer Shirley Manson’s socially conscious and commanding attitude struck the right nerve in my life. I rode out my love for their music so passionately that people often referred to me as “The Garbage Guy.” And I reveled in the peculiar nicknames.

Their split broke my heart, but the songs, hard or soft, continued to propel me through my 20s. After I got my HIV diagnosis, I would put on headphones to either cry in bed or vent my rage on a punching bag. Their song “Bleed Like Me” became my mantra. I refused to let anyone tear me down for being different.

Recently, as a 31-year-old pseudo-adult, I wondered if their new album, Not Your Kind of People, would still resonate with me. I hit play, and the speakers ignited with the dramatic introduction of the first song, “Automatic Systematic Habit.”

“Lies, lies, lies,” Shirley rages on the album’s first line. Referring to arrogant, cheating men (most likely politicians), this rock anthem is perfectly suited for an unforgiving dance floor as she slams her foot down on the subject matter.

The new album seems wickedly inconsistent as rock anthems can switch to dance anthems and anything in between. In songs like “I Hate Love,” fast beats collide with Manson’s deep, cooing vocals on how love can horribly fuck with a person’s brain.

Shirley clearly hasn’t lost her talent for thought-provoking hardships that flow freely to high energy, catchy hooks. But unlike other Garbage albums, NYKOP has a surprisingly optimistic feel. Songs like “Big Bright World” and “Beloved Freak” celebrate the splendor of being an individual.

But what makes this album unique is its pop/rock oddities. The lead single, “Blood for Poppies,” comes off like five different songs mashed into one. The explosive guitar riffs don’t quite match the slick and hypnotic rap-like verses, which also don’t match the upbeat, gal pal riot-like chorus. The song even changes direction with new lyrics just as it cuts off, leaving any listener ready for the repeat button.

Inspired by news reports on opium drug trades and documentaries on the Afghan war, the puzzling lyrics begin to make sense.

“It’s not literal in any sense whatsoever,” Manson has commented. “But it’s a song about disorientation and delusion and the human struggle to stay sane in the face of insanity.”

Other eccentrically addicting songs include the album’s title track, “Not Your Kind of People,” which sounds like some sort of spaghetti western that would make Tim Burton cream his pants. “Man On a Wire” amps up to a stripped-down punk sound while Shirley pounds out the clash between the greedy corporate man and the artistically subjugated femme fatale.

While old fans waited in support, Garbage absolutely returned with a vengeance. With no one in charge but themselves, they created a diversely electrified rock record fronted by one of music’s most dominant pop/rock vixens. As for a record label, it may not have been their kind of album, but for people like me, it was the perfect kind of garbage.