Camper Van Chadbourne: Revenge Of Camper Van Chadbourne

As one of the most creative indie acts of the '80s, Camper Van Beethoven couldn't help but gradually amass fame and fortune. As is often the case, though, it broke up at the height of its popularity, which happened to coincide with the imminent ska explosion and alt-rock crossover the group had helped set up. Like The Replacements, Pixies, and Hüsker Dü, CVB was simply too good for its own good, destined to disappear before its time. Unlike most of its peers, however, it was hardly a rock band, delving frequently into obscure world rhythms and quirky novelty songs that had as much to do with Frank Zappa and The Grateful Dead as they did with punk. This explains the group's mid-'80s collaboration with North Carolina folk and improv oddity Eugene Chadbourne. Chadbourne enlisted Victor Krummenacher, Jonathan Segel, Chris Pedersen, David Lowery, and a few other friends for three predictably strange albums—Camper Van Chadbourne, The Eddie Chatterbox Double Trio Love Album, and 69th Sin Funny ('89 Live At The Knitting Factory)—that magnified CVB's more eccentric tendencies. Sadly, the albums weren't quite as good as they could or should have been, but as curiosities they're worth a listen. Knitting Factory has helpfully collected some of the out-of-print LPs, which include skewed King Crimson and Zappa covers along with some rarities, on the appropriately titled Used Record Pile (subtitled Collaborations Of Eugene Chadbourne And Camper Van Beethoven Between 1987&shyp;1991). Needless to say, if this is what Camper Van Beethoven had sounded like, commercial success wouldn't have been a consideration. But there are enough remnants of the band to serve as a reminder of just how great it was—and enough Chadbourne to remind you how weird he still is. Revenge Of Camper Van Chadbourne is a live document taken from a 1999 reunion, of sorts, which brought back Krummenacher and Segel for another round with Chadbourne, live at the Knitting Factory. The disc is strange as usual, sounding like a loose hillbilly hootenanny taped off of a bizarre border-radio broadcast.