Only CDs Is Sounding Like These # 4: Crash Test Dummies, God Shuffled His Feet (1993)

A new occasional series - CDs are coming back baby! And I’m here for it. BIGTIME!

I was pretty pleased with myself, when, last week, I emerged from the tip shop with a $1 copy of God Shuffled His Feet, the second album by Canadian pop-rock ensemble from the 1990s, Crash Test Dummies.

When the album was released I was in my penultimate year of high school. I listened to a lot of metal, and jazz, grunge, and hip-hop. And I was obsessed with a lot of classic rock. Fairly wide tastes for a 16yo. I was a tape-collector, but my dad was begging me to part with that tired old format and get with the CD revolution. I did, eventually. Later that year in fact. But I owned the Dummies album on tape. And I loved it. The big hit was starting, almost immediately, to get under people’s skin.

But, if I bought the album because of that song, I very quickly moved on. I loved the quirky guitar licks — 90s production though: TRIGGER WARNING! And I found that bass-baritone voice far less infuriating than any of my friends. God Shuffled His Feet wasn’t a guilty pleasure, but it wasn’t far off it. It was certainly a little bit of a secret. I mean the album was everywhere for a bit, but I’m not sure I knew anyone that admitted to listening to it. And I’ve always liked finding those sorts of albums. They’re not obscure, they’re not hiding, but they still feel like some sort of (nice) secret.

Many years later, tapes a complete afterthought, I remember exactly where I was when I decided I had to have Crash Test Dummies on CD — the first time. We were in Auckland, heading to the ill fated Sweetwaters ‘99 gig. We stopped for food, and found a music store. Some people bought some tapes for the van, and I bought God Shuffled His Feet on CD (for at least $25). My new bestie looked at me like I was insane. I told her the album was a secret/ish gem. Everyone knew the single, no one knew the power of the album tracks. She rolled her eyes as if to say, “we’ll never speak of this again. Ever”.

The CD lasted about 45 seconds, when I tried to play it on a portable CD player thought a speaker at our campsite.

So, again, a secret thrill.

At some point, I ditched that CD, sick of it — and sick of most CDs for a time. Trading them in for cash, and LPs…

But every now and then I have thought of Crash Test Dummies. I’m no shill for the rest of their work, though I dipped in. I tried. It’s just the God Shuffled album. It’s tied to the time. And it’s genuinely got some great pop hooks, some inventive songs, and quirky lyrics. I like it. That’s all there is to it. I like it.

So, when I saw it there in the dump-shop, I had to save it. Acting on instinct, I paid the one dollar, and took it home. I made a bed for it in a shoebox, feed it milk through an eye-dropper that night. Let it sleep amongst some grass clippings. The next day, I took it with me to my office. Placed it carefully in the tray of what, really, should be office-standard, government-issued:

And had a mild panic that it might not at all be good. But as soon as Brad Roberts’ deep, sonically-pleasing boom of a voice wafted into place, a smile perched on my face. It stayed there for the next 44 minutes and 45 seconds.

The weakest song, by far, is Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm. I’m there for Afternoons & Coffeespoons, the title track, and When I Got Out With Artists. And here’s something no one else was doing, I’m sure: I used to ‘pair’ this album with Leonard Cohen’s The Future. They’re from a similar time, and both artists are from the same place (Canada), but they most certainly occupy very different spaces — in people’s understanding of taste, if not talent.

Both albums, though, finish, with soft, emotional, charming piano instrumentals — a wee coda to each record. That alone made 16 and 17 and 18yo me decide they should be paired. Which is bonkers! But, c’mon, it’s also kinda brilliant, right?

Anyway, a dollar well spent, obviously! But more than that, the CD is the correct format for this band. I wouldn’t want this on tape. I would never want this on vinyl. And I can’t explain it beyond it being the era, and the production sounds and styles of the time. It’s weirdly, but warmly compressed. And I’m here for it. This isn’t a bad record for me. It’s not a 5-star classic. But it’s the equivalent of a look back through the ol’ yearbook, and accompanying photo albums of the time.

And the “TS Elliott” name-drop was a biggie for me too (in Afternoons). I was reading a book of Elliott’s letters around the time I was double-featuring this and Cohen’s The Future. So to have the music reflect the author I was reading…you know it all just felt so aligned.

Now, you were never going to ask about bestie from the bus, back at Sweetwaters. She never could stand the Crash Test Dummies. I knew that then, and I know that now. Because we’re married. We live together. We’re raising a son, and holding it together around a yappy, entitled little dog. True to her earlier thoughts, we haven’t ever talked about the Crash Test Dummers. So I haven’t told her about the return of the Dummies to our house. But, luckily, she never reads anything I write. Part of the reason we’re still together, I’m sure! So it can be our little secret eh…Mmmmmm ?