Despite having predicted his own irrelevance as far back as 1976 on the song "Desperados Under the Eaves," Warren Zevon has outlasted his more illustrious L.A. pals The Eagles and mentor Jackson Browne even if his awkward song stylings and unpretty baritone haven't changed a bit. And while Zevon himself admits he's overstayed the snickering welcome he received in 1977 for his only hit, "Werewolves of London," he's unapologetic about continuing to exploit his image as the Robert Stone of rock.
But as he proves on his new album, "My Ride's Here," Zevon may be more relevant than ever; which isn't to say the zeitgeist has caught up with him, only that the sine wave of pop-culture cynicism has risen to a point where it once again dovetails with his sour wit. The perfect antidote to the self-deprecating sappiness that fuels the current emo-core craze can be found in Zevon's short stories of real losers and real jerks. He has no problem aligning Russell Crowe with Hafez Assad on the asshole curve and can pinpoint Albert Einstein's genius in his ability to "make out like Charlie Sheen" while "working on his universal plan."
Zevon's own peculiar genius has always been the way he simultaneously promotes and ridicules the basest human impulses. On the opening rocker, "Sacrificial Lambs," he rails: "Take a look at my family tree, every brother and sister wants something for free." In the almost epic "Hit Somebody," a doltish Canadian farm boy becomes a hockey star simply because he can kick butt: "The king of the goons with a box for a throne."