I’m tempted to translate everything I say here
into dog (“Arf, arf arf arf arf, arf arf”), but I’m not sure how many of you
would get that. Plus, I’d have to do it twice: Dog Dog, twice twice. But despite
the fact that Ed Stuparitz, the Dog Dog person, has dedicated this release “to
everyone who’s filled my bowls & gone on walks with me” and has titled
these tunes “Smell the Flowers” and “Ruff Stuff,” there’s very little
dog-related action – frolicking, wagging, sniffing, drooling – on Beware of the Dog Dog. That’s probably
fine. I like dogs, but not a whole tape of dog stuff.
Out of the gray fog trill synth runs, trickle
ambient chords, wash sheets of static. It’s all very tender and heartfelt,
perhaps a betrayal of Stuparitz’s frame of mind. Perhaps from the perspective
of the dog, then, we’ll gather and report: an unceasing optimism? A drifting
curiosity? Side B drops some rhythm, some definite melody, like a brilliant
afternoon in a spring park chasing balls and Frisbees and smelling other dogs’
butts. Remember – dog perspective. There is nothing more generally enjoyable
than cavorting in the sun, the smell of the grass in the air, the youthful
pulse of adrenaline and blood and oxygen. Dog Dog connects the dots from animal
to human and back again, and lives freely and genuinely in the space of
understanding between pet and owner, and thus lays the foundation for that same
understanding among human beings, one to another.
--Ryan
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