People,Stuff.

Whisky a Go Go, 1989

BY JORDAN MAINZER

Growing up in California, people told Sebastian Murphy he was too much of a freak. When he moved to Sweden, there they told him he was too normal. That’s how the Viagra Boys frontman introduced “Punk Rock Loser”, a self-aware standout from the band’s third album Cave World (YEAR0001), Friday night at The Salt Shed. The song showcases a drug-addicted, reckless, overconfident man, one that Murphy admits he perhaps used to be, not even five years ago. It’s this mixture of self-hatred and idealization where Murphy, and Viagra Boys as a whole, lies, a presence truly reflected in their live show.

The very makeup of Viagra Boys is a microcosm for the contrasts they demonstrate. As a frontman, Murphy exaggeratedly emulates the toxic males Viagra Boys chide. Swilling beer, sunglasses on, his words barked, Murphy shouted and slurred his way through “Big Boy”, the very sight of a heavily tattooed, beer bellied man gravel-throating the words, “Well I’m a big boy, baby,” seemingly designed to send shudders down the spine of a normie. On the flipside, there’s saxophonist Oscar Carls, the only member of the band to match Murphy’s level of sheer performance. Also donning Matrix-era sunglasses, equally drunk (on wine he kept filling up), the short-shorted, slender player vogued his way through “Ain’t Nice” and “Big Boy” when he wasn’t impressively skronking on his instrument. On the instrumental ‘Cold Play”, his swirling solo dabbled in free jazz improvisation, the type of artistic headiness that’s on the opposite end of the spectrum of Murphy’s hilarious blathering.

The funniest thing about Viagra Boys, though, is how good of a live band they are. From Elias Jungqvist’s scratchy keyboard breakdown on “Big Boy” to Tor Sjödén‘s crashing drums on “Sports”, they’re simultaneously tight and adventurous. They’re also surprising. Sjödén sang in beautiful falsetto harmony with Murphy’s slow drawl on “The Cognitive Trade-Off Hypothesis”. Jungqvist added a wavering synth line to “Sports”. Murphy picked up a guitar on freakout jam “Shrimp Shack”. The band established a stage presence and immediately supplanted it.

Viagra Boys are satirists, their very name referencing a sense of false virility that pervades the hyper-aggressive men and conspiracy theorists they make fun of. In a sense, it’s a genius formula: As long as there are idiots, there will be Viagra Boys songs, like “Creepy Crawlers”, which saw Murphy writhing on the floor, imitating the desperation of a particularly brainwashed anti-vaxxer: “They’re putting little creepy crawlers in the vaccine!” Yet, part of Murphy’s imitation is putting himself in the shoes of his subject, as he’s fascinated by them without thinking of himself as above them. On stage, he contrasted an early song like “Liquids” with Cave World’s anti-gun diatribe “Troglodyte”, stating he, “Now writes about political turmoil and the state of the world.” But the next song the band played in the set was “Sports”, their breakout single, the very song that makes fun of men who unnecessarily wear sunglasses. You know, like the Viagra Boys themselves.

And then there’s “Worms”. It’s a stylistic outlier in Viagra Boys’ catalog, a little bit country, featuring a subdued bassline, Murphy adopting a twang. “The same worms that eat me will someday eat you, too,” is like a John Prine punchline turned into a whole song, but one that’s an appropriate reminder that whether you’re right or wrong, an asshole or a nice person, death is the great equalizer.