A sense of humor is one of the greatest gifts anyone can claim. A talent for music is another. Composer/performer David Yazbek has been blessed with both. But how does such an artist handle personal loss, rage and sadness? What is the creative outlet that allows for a cathartic release? In Yazbek's case, the answer came in the form of the brilliant Evil Monkey Man, a 14-song collection of raw, emotionally charged music, which showcases his distinctive ability to use humor as a means to process and live through a period of turmoil and darkness.

Much in the way that Elvis Costello has worn many different hats as his career has unfolded, David Yazbek is completely comfortable in a variety of guises. Yazbek's mature, thoughtful new CD finds its home somewhere between where rock, pop, blues and jazz sensibilities mesh with a theatricality that comes from raw emotion. Evil Monkey Man is the sort of tour de force that an artist can't necessarily plan—it either happens or it doesn't. In Yazbek's case, there was a sadness and madness lurking beneath his skin, and he let it run amok in the studio.  And you can literally feel that tension when you hear the album. 

Evil Monkey Man finds Yazbek fusing complex, often upbeat melodies and witty lyrics to twist the rage and anguish of the disturbed protagonist of his songs. This collection may come to be described as "asymmetrical music"—slightly askew upon an initial listen, darkly brilliant upon deeper immersion.  Serial killers come to life, The Devil disguises himself as Nature, mortality rises as a constant theme, helpless capucine monkeys are experimented upon, loneliness and desire are revealed—these are the twisted threads that form the thoroughly engaging Evil Monkey Man.

Yazbek's Song Notes for Evil Monkey Man:

I feel like I stripped away a lot of the ornamentation and "please love me" frills in my other albums because I needed to say something and get it out.  Because of the rawness inherent in the songs, I felt like the right way to record it was to get my band into a studio and play them down together, at the same time, with plenty of room for improvisation and happy accidents. For the most part, that's what we did (at the Magic Shop) and we all realized immediately that this method brought out our individual and collective musicality in a really exciting way.  These players are amazing, and I'm no slouch as a pianist and we all felt pretty emotionally raw at the time.  I think it all comes out in the record.  Not a lot of overdubs, not a lot of "indicating".  I had the flu while recording a lot of these songs and it somehow released me from being "on". The anger and sadness and hysteria came out naturally.  And the humor was revealed for what humor always is at bottom—a way to survive it all.

Song by Song

1. "TERRIBLE THING"
About the vortex of desire and 'blind getting' and how it always ends up ugly if you lose track of the Moment.

2. "MONKEY BABY HANGING ON CHICKEN WIRE"
Harry Harlow did experiments in the 50s and 60s where he replaced baby capucine monkeys' mothers with substitutes made of mesh-wire and terry-cloth, sometimes wire alone.  He proved that the comfort of a soft "mother" was more important than food to these babies. Baby monkeys kept in isolation were irredeemably traumatized. I found the experiments harrowing and inhumane. I also somehow related to them on a personal level.

3. "A BLUSTERY WIND"
I think this one's about a serial killer.

4. "THE TRAVELER"
I wrote a poem called "The Traveler," which was basically about Nature as The Devil.  We rolled tape with all 4 of us in the studio and I told the guys what I wanted them to think of as we started playing.  What I told them has something to do with the subtitle of each track.  Then I started playing and everyone joined in.  We did this for several hours, and these bits and pieces are the result.  All of the music is improvised by all 4 of us.  I'd actually like to do some gigs in this manner.

5. "NEVER GET OUT OF THIS"
One of the things I assimilated during several years of Zen training in the 90s was that no matter what you do, you end up dead.  This can be terrifying, or ultimately liberating.  Either way, you should face up to it.  Working out all day, being vegan, getting high, lusting after lots of young girls when you're middle-aged—it's all fine, but if you're doing it to distract yourself from the inevitable, you're kind of wasting your life. So this song really points a finger and says, "don't forget".  I wrote the lyrics in one night and sent them to Erik Della Penna to see if he could come up with music.  He did.

6. "THAT LUCKY OLD SUN"
This is a cover.  I didn't know this song until Erik played it for me near the end of a recording day.  It apparently is a very well-known song, covered by everyone from Willie Nelson to Johnny Cash.  I asked him to play it a few more times because it really affected me. I was crying like a defeated "Project Runway" contestant.  Erik and I went into the studio and recorded it a few times. I think this was the first take.  I think what got me about it is that the guy can't find relief from his hard-working, unappreciated life and he doesn't know it, but he's considering suicide.

7. "BAZOOKA JOE"
A cast of characters from my life over the years.  I guess it's about loneliness and desire.

9. "STEPS OF ANOTHER MAN'S HOUSE"
It's about the guy who is walking down a snowy street in the winter and it's cold and he sees the warm light inside a house. Another song about desire and lacking.

10. "IT ISN'T FAIR"
This is one of those songs I wrote while watching TV and getting enraged at the Religious Right-wingers and Republicans and then I realized that what I was doing was loud mental-whining.

11. "EIGHT EVIL MEN"
Came partially out of a dream I had.  I wanted to write a song that was like a revenge-movie.  At root, it's about going from total hopelessness to empowerment.  Sure there's a body count, but it still feels optimistic to me.

13. "WASTED"
For me it always seems to be fleeting but eloquent moments that make life worth living. I think that's what this song is.  

14. "INDUSTRIAL LOVE SONG"
Howard Korder (screen and theater writer) wrote these words years ago and asked me to write music, which I did.  I've always liked the song and finally felt like this was the album to put it on.