By J. R. Taylor

It’s been a decade of Dirtbombs, which is even more shocking than that Dell ad with the 13th Floor Elevators. In fact, nobody could have blamed Mick Collins if he’d taken the Syd Barrett route and secluded himself away as a drug casualty—and he wouldn’t even have been the guy using the drugs.

Collins has already been Detroit’s most wasted talent in the traditional sense of the word. We’ve gotten a mere four albums and one shared release over the past 10 years. The band’s still touring behind last year’s singles comp If You Don’t Already Have A Look—but at least that makes for 54 new songs on CD. The Dirtbombs like making singles. That’s plenty to ask from Collins. He’s already taken two legendary bands through the kind of crazed acclaim that can only be mustered by a minimal fan base. Whether we’re talking about The Gories or Blacktop or The Dirtbombs, Collins has overseen a wild mix of garage-rock and psychotic blues and fractured pop-punk. We’re pretty much talking about every hot sound that would’ve paid huge dividends if Collins could’ve invested in genres like stocks.

He’s schizoid enough that If You Don’t—divided between 29 originals and 23 covers—can form the definitive Dirtbombs album. There’s the let’s-write-this-in-the-elevator-to-the-recording-studio greatness of songs like “I’m Saving Myself for Nichelle Nichols,” and the fannish enthusiasm that can make an English Beat song sound like it was just written in the elevator to the recording studio.

The band can even make an Elliott Smith song sound inspired—or at least vaguely human. Collins’ disdain for heroin addicts doesn’t extend to artists that The Dirtbombs wish to honor. To be fair, any other attitude would leave slim pickings.

Collins’ hatred of heroin heads is still nicely detailed in his liner notes for I’ve Got A Baaad Feelin’ About This, which covers the entire output of his Blacktop project. The notes for If You Don’t Already provide a pleasant contrast, serving as a transcript of Collins and drummers Ben Blackwell and Pat Pantano discussing music in general.  

Despite the camaraderie, Collins has always maintained that The Dirtbombs will come to a definite end. Understandable, given the grisly demise of his past bands. Collins has also declared that The Dirtbombs are a constantly shifting art project. That’s true with mixed results. What’s supposedly the punk album sounds more like a pop album, while the collection that was meant to be the pop album sounds more like the sensitive artist album. 

The most consistent thing about The Dirtbombs is their ability to sound retarded on record. Their live show also tends to ditch artistic vision in favor of sounding like the best rock band to ever emerge from Detroit—or at least they might be if Detroit couldn’t claim Alice Cooper as a homegrown band. A lot of people have forgotten that about Alice Cooper. The Dirtbombs probably haven’t. Except maybe for Mick.

July 29. Maxwell’s, 1039 Washington St. (at 11th St.), Hoboken, 201-798-0406; 9, $13.