1994 In Review: Helmet - "Betty"

Helmet's story is really rather unfortunate; criminally undervalued during their initial run, praised time and time again as major influences after they went away and largely ignored upon their return, they never really achieved their due in regards of critical acclaim or mainstream acceptance.

Betty is as close as they got, thanks mostly to the attention grabbing effort that was 1992's Meantime. That album's MTV-supported highlight, the driving and riff-happy Unsung, put them on the radar for many (including this guy); many of those who checked out Meantime were beaten down by its relentlessness and charmed by its at the time unfathomable marriage of metallic riffage and off-kilter jazz rhythms. More than anything, though, it was about the brutal, primal nature of the music. It didn't veer off tangent or operate on multiple levels; it was all tactical aggression, a blunt force rock album that left an impression whether you were looking for it or not.

The negative side effect of Meantime is that it its precious little variation in moods and tone seemingly painted Page Hamilton & co. into a musical corner, and when Milquetoast preceded Betty's release as part of the soundtrack for The Crow, it didn't appear as though much was about to change. But then, a funny thing happened; the video for a chugging, funky new Helmet track called Biscuits for Smut hit, and Helmet were a whole new band.

As it turns out, for as much as Betty solidified Helmet's sound, it also stretched it out incredibly. In addition to the staccato riffs and heavy grooves, there was plenty of extracurricular noise seeping through; there was also a much higher variation in Hamilton's vocals, less shouting and more singing. There was also some downright oddities, from the half sincere, half piss-taking instrumental cover of '30s waltz Beautiful Love to the strutting freak funk of quasi title track The Silver Hawaiian and the amplified swamp boogie of closer Sam Hell.

The majority plays to Helmet's strengths, of course, and Betty's best moments are the ones that best make use of those thick tones and thundering rhythms. Wilma's Rainbow starts the album off with a bang, while the slow groove of Tic and Street Crab coax the head bob with ease. And, of course, the ferocious groove of Milquetoast can't be overstated; it's the closest thing Helmet's had to a hit not just because of its placement on one of the greatest soundtracks of all time, but because it's probably the best damn song they ever recorded.

Time hasn't been exactly kind to Helmet, and Page hasn't exactly done his band any favours in recent years, but Betty stands everlasting as a high water mark of '90s rock, the work of a band who was worthy of far more credit and attention than they ever got.

June 21, 1994 • Interscope

Highlights Wilma's Rainbow • Milquetoast • Street Crab