A Review of Excitable Boy by Warren Zevon

Published 5 days ago• 4 minute read

Album art courtesy of Asylum Records

For our Friday, we’re reaching into the crate and dusting off this classic from Warren Zevon.

Maybe it’s just my timeline, but Warren Zevon seems to be having a moment on here recently. As much as , I was happy to see him get in via their “Musical influence” category. A side door’s still a door, right?

Or, as Brian of put it:

As a fan, I’ll put it another way. Recently I visited the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, NY. Walking among the plaques, I found Gil Hodges, player with the 1955 World Series champion Brooklyn Dodgers and manager for the 1969 World Series champion New York Mets. Did I think to myself, “yeah, but he made it via the Veterans’ Committee (actually, by that time, the Golden Days Committee)”? Absolutely not. I thought, “that’s right, Gil fucking Hodges, Hall of Famer.”

Zevon encountered some pitfalls along the way—some self-inflicted, many due to the vagaries of pop culture—but there’s no question he deserves a spot in the hall.

For my money, it’s an honor long overdue for the man responsible for writing the best opening line in rock history, and it’s worth taking another look at what I consider his best record.

Last year, Sam Colt and I shared our top 100 albums.

I still wonder if I shoulda slotted it in higher up the chart.

KA—

The real question isn’t whether or not Warren Zevon is a fantastic songwriter. It’s whether or not he sees himself in the characters he writes about or whether he’s in on the joke. This record is home to his biggest hit, “Werewolves of London,” and one of the greatest songs ever (“Lawyers Guns and Money.”) The former often gets him lumped in with one-hit wonders and on Halloween playlists. Shame, really- did Bobby “Boris” Pickett name-check Trader Vics or have Fleetwood Mac’s rhythm section backing him up on “Monster Mash?” I think not.

The latter is a great example of why so many people keep coming back for more. If you ever want to write a great opening line, write out, “I went home with the waitress/ the way I always do,” and stick it to the side of your computer. Good luck. This is the sort of lyric you could base an entire novel on. Maybe that’s what Carl Hiaasen did.

The title track is field trip through any number of psychoses. “Nighttime in the Switching Yard” is Zevon’s attempt at a bit of funk, and it works well. Turns out he can get down with the best of ‘em. “Accidentally Like a Martyr” closes out the first side. I’ll be damned if I know what that means, but it does well to show his more serious, romantic side. It can’t all be wild adventures and cages with bones.

I mentioned Fleetwood Mac earlier, but the rest of the roster reads like a who’s who of the late '70s SoCal scene; Linda Ronstadt and Jennifer Warnes sing backup on “Excitable Boy.” JD Souther makes an appearance. Waddy Wachtel is on here, because of course he is. There’s at least one Pocaro brother in the mix.

Zevon would go on to make many records after with various levels of commercial and critical success, but for my money, nothing afterward quite captures the same lightning in a bottle as this album does.

Thanks for being here,

Kevin—