Review: The Residents at The Orange Peel
While much about the Residents defies logic, one of the oddest aspects of their story is that 1979’s Eskimo is among their most commercially successful records. Sandwiched between the more approachable experimental rock of Duck Stab/Buster & Glen (1978) and The Commercial Album (1980), the avant-garde concept album, loosely based on Inuit culture, is the antithesis of a commercial record. It’s a bizarre, slow-developing ambient soundscape of strange chanting — mostly gibberish or advertising slogans. The atmosphere is cold, dark, and creepy. There’s nothing quite like it.
On Oct. 19, the mysterious group stopped by The Orange Peel to perform the album in full, and the seated audience of cult fans appeared entranced by the disorienting sonic feast. As always, the four members wore costumes protecting their long-speculated identities. Although their most famous look — tuxedos with giant eyeball heads — debuted around the time of Eskimo’s release, they didn’t go with that iconic appearance. Vocalist “Tyrone” wore a black-and-white spotted suit with a white face covering, a wide jack-o’-lantern grin, and a round red nose. The three other members, stationed behind synthesizers and percussion, looked like hairy abominable snowmen with glowing eyes.
Live, Eskimo was heavily percussive, pushing the music into more tribal, sinister psychedelic territory than the recording. For newcomers, it had to be a strange introduction. After the album and a wonderful rendition of “Diskomo,” the group’s own disco parody of Eskimo, the band changed costumes and returned for classics including fan favorites “Hello Skinny,” “Sinister Exaggerator,” and “Constantinople ” — a more well-rounded look at why The Residents are so revered in experimental music.
It’s hard to know whether the group will go on forever with members secretly being replaced, but catch them while you still can. Everyone should experience The Residents at least once.
The Residents
Rushadicus
(Photos by Jonny Leather)

