“The Potato Song” introduces Jesse Krakow’s solo project Krakhouse with a skewed sense of humor and a relentless appetite for absurd detail. Shot at his house in New Jersey and directed by Max Baskind, the video documents what he calls “an imaginary menage a trois between a man and a potato and a fretless bass.”
He adds, “it’s a simple love song in a complicated time signature,” one that exists because “many of us are eternally obsessed with music, food & sex.” The shoot came at the cost of more than a few potatoes: “sadly, many potatoes were harmed in the process.”
The track comes from “Bastards of Prog,” Krakhouse’s debut, released July 25 via Cuneiform Records. The album runs across eighty-four lo-fi/high-IQ experimental-comedy songs. Krakow collaborated with Dot Wiggin-Semprini of The Shaggs, and threw in covers of Captain Beefheart, Sisqo, and Alan Smithee.
“All the cliches about ‘prog’ being pretentious, absurd, bloated and self-consciously ‘far out’ are valid,” Krakow says, “but if we apply those same measuring sticks to other art forms then anything can be ‘prog,’ no matter how it sounds, looks like or tastes.” For him, progress is about breaking limits: “the people who do so don’t (just) play ‘prog’, they play music, they play sports, or they play the role of best supporting actress. Whatever it is that they do, they bastardize the medium of their choice.”
Guest appearances dot the record, from Eric Slick of Dr Dog to Southern California cult outfit the Crazy Muchachos, chamber players l’ensemble des fromages, the Gregory Elementary Jazz Band, and Krakow’s two sons. The physical package sprawls: over 180 pages of liner notes, including a 70-page mission statement, song lyrics, Top Ten lists, and even a chapter from his novel-in-progress.
Krakow’s resume is just as wide. He co-founded the NYC experimental group Time of Orchids, toured as bassist for Shudder to Think, played guitar for The Shaggs, and taught at Bootsy Collins’ Funk University. He’s been a Brooklyn Philharmonic Fellow, hosted WFMU’s “Minor Music,” and created the “Fuck This Gig” podcast. His collaborators have included Ruins, Fast ‘n Bulbous, Doctor Nerve, PAK, John Zorn, Kate Pierson, Nona Hendryx, Nina Persson, Jello Biafra, Julee Cruise, Roddy Bottum, R Stevie Moore, Chris Butler, the Losers Lounge, and MANDONNA.
To test the album’s reach, Krakow staged a focus group with his children and their friends. He admitted upfront, “I already know what grown-ups think about it and I’m much more interested in what you have to think about it.” Their responses were unfiltered.
Frances, age 8, said “My Holly Hoaf” sounded like “an Irish grandmother happily dancing around a golf course with a broom.” Zella, also 8, added, “yeah, in 1989.” Anjolie, 7, thought it resembled “one of the seven dwarves but I’m not sure which one.” Julian, 9, decided it sounded like something from 1866, “before the witch trials.”
Other tracks sparked similarly blunt takes. “Pooping With Your Shoes On” was called “a rock song that teaches a baby how to poop.” “When There’s Nothing Left To Do But Pretend To Be Happy” cleared the room: “It sounded like everybody played a different note,” Julian noted. “Snot Pockets” conjured “green pepperoni, green sauce, and gooey, weird, disgusting chunky cheese,” in Shane’s words. “Kick the Sandwich” led to a conversation about tacos and nachos. On “The Potato Song,” Juliette asked, “how much do you like potatoes?” Anjolie said it “made me feel like I was on a beach. Eating French fries on the beach.”
Inspiration for the record comes from unlikely places. Krakow lists flatulence (with a nod to Kate Bush allegedly sampling her own), the Muppets (“pieces of felt that make me feel everything”), professional wrestling, Corey Feldman’s eccentric world, the childhood mix of Pepsi and milk his mother drank in 1950s Chicago, the creative downtime of NJ Transit, and fatherhood: “I have two amazing sons, ages 9 + 12, and they’re all over the album. I figure I should exploit them while they’re still too young to kick my ass.”
