Marco Porsia is currently in the midst of creating the film Where Does A Body End? regarding the truly awesome Swans. He’s put together this brief three minute film to commemorate the final show of this Swans line up which took place earlier this month in New York City.

I’d have to say, after so many years of watching (and loving) live music, Swans are the only band where I was ever struck by the desire – mid-show – to abandon everything and just go watch them night-after-night-after-night. They remain the standard against which I judge a live show: does the set flow? Is this a journey or just a grab-bag of songs? Was it possible to surprise me with the decisions made? Did I hear something new? Did I hear old things anew? Did I lose track of time and space and the presence of others? Did I reach a point of complete surrender to sound and spectacle? Swans.

Currently trying to read more fiction. Two authors in particular are heading up my “what’s awesome?” list. Firstly, Adam Nevill:

http://www.adamlgnevill.com/

He’s a British horror author I’ve followed a while now. His first book was very visibly someone learning as they went – a university/post-university effort but it’s been great to see that develop into such a diverse expertise in how to chill. I loved Last Days for its keen observance of cult structures and the building dread; The Ritual for the sense of being hunted in a believable space; then his most recent works have entered something new. No One Gets Out Alive is the tale of a down-on-her-luck zero-hours girl scratching together enough money to live and forced to take the worst accommodation with the grimmest bottom-feeders, the kind of guys who take advantage of the weak. It’s gift was in making something that is a part of day-to-day life feel more horrific than the imaginary or the supernatural: the way the two realms worked together created something with huge emotional power. Lost Girl was another step out of fantasy and into something closer to home: a world beset by the realities of climate change, in which predating on one’s fellow man is increasingly the norm, in which money provides insulation – again, the weaving of supernatural into a believable context was talented and intriguing.

On a lighter note, the other author I’ve got a lot of time for right now is Jonathan L. Howard:

http://www.jonathanlhoward.com/

I’ve got one more book to go in the Johannes Cabal series. The tale of an amoral anti-hero with a talent for unwitting humour and knowing sarcasm, again and again there’s a turn of phrase that I have to stop and re-read to appreciate how beautifully done or imaginatively written it is. Add on the humour, the depth, the diverse landscape in which everything takes place…I’ve become a big fan. I’m concluding The Brothers Cabal at the moment and enjoying the digressions and diversions (the scene where he lectures the creatures that live in the garden on who/what to eat and not to eat for example.)

Advertisements

Picture1

I should have mentioned this about a year ago but juggling job, writing, life…Time burns. It’s the one thing I miss about a daily commute: it was an excellent place to read – I carry a book whenever I leave the house even now. At home there are too many distractions – except when in the bathroom of course – but out and about it’s possible to read and just let the world go by.

So, basically, this is an intriguing one. The key to it is just to sink in and let the beauty of the language and the description just flow. The concept stands on the idea of a lonely teenage girl waking up in hospital to discover Kurt Cobain is there too with no memory of his former life and unrecognised by those around; they begin a relationship; they live the fan-dream life of starting a band with him and…And things go wrong. At first sight I could have just yawned and thought ‘fan fiction’ but it’s just too well-written. The book is wreathed in vivid detail that left it somewhere between an enthralling dream sequence and something painted so perfectly it seems tangibly real. Definitely not something I’d have expected to see in the realms of Nirvana/Cobain-related writing but one I’d recommend to anyone who just likes good fiction which I would define as an interesting premise taken on an unpredictable and surprising journey in words that enhance and inspire emotion throughout. It definitely hits that.

I’m often surprised there hasn’t been more literature drawing on the experience of musicians – Joe Hill’s Heart Shaped Box is the only one that immediately comes to mind – but I’m guessing it’s because few musicians who lived the life also have the talent for writing and, vice versa, few writers have the experience of being actively touring musicians…I reckon Crosbie does a good job of showing that passion, energy and a gift for words can bring something like this to a point where it feels real. Real talent.

https://thevinylfactory.com/features/best-john-carpenter-10-records/

I did this piece for The Vinyl Factory recently – a relatively easy one for me given my day-to-day listening habits have quite a lot of space for John Carpenter’s work at the moment. Assault On Precinct 13 and The Fog are my favourite soundtracks of his I admit.

In life, all the time, I’m struck that I think most things are good/bad simultaneously. It’s like candy: the initial sugar hit, the flavour, the indulgence – great! But the undercurrent is, sure, it’ll lead to tooth decay, obesity and so forth. It doesn’t mean one should avoid these things, it just means that there’s no avoiding consequences in life and that people’s tendency to divide into good/bad is just plain silly. Most things are both all the time.

A fair example is the work involved in creating things like one of these ‘Ten Of’ lists. Sure you say, it’s just listening to a bunch of music – it ain’t hard. True! And there’s a really deep pleasure involved in sinking so completely into someone’s work. I tend to find that listening to this much of one person’s music in a concerted way over a couple of weeks gives me an expanded awareness of the things they do that make the music theirs, what their techniques and approaches are, where they’re deviating, what makes this piece standout or that piece fit.

On the other hand, it’s not just listening. It’s hours of flicking back, re-listening, discarding notes and thoughts on one piece, thinking more about another. It emphasises that no one is so original that listening to their music so obsessively won’t kill the vibe or point out the bits where it’s a bit the same, or where they’re coasting. It means I can’t bring myself to listen to Carpenter’s latest just yet – I’ll need a break, time to cleanse the palette and digest.

It’s a constant sin of mine: I get into an artist, I hoover up music by them, then I need a pause before returning to them to really ‘get’ the individual joys of a particular record.

 

 

Thurston on Shelf

Sometimes it can feel like working in a void: the clear out of the book store industry, the increasing reality that niche books exist mainly via online retailers, there’s often a sense that the books I write – given my particular focus – only exist on my own shelf and among the people I’ve sent copies to myself.

That’s why it’s always warming when a friend or comrade sends me a picture of something I’ve done existing out in the world in a book store someplace. We Sing A New Language: The Oral Discography of Thurston Moore came out in the U.S. only about a month ago so good to see it’s about.

I saw a hilarious review on Amazon.com earlier which really made me chuckle! Sense of humour is a valuable thing in this world and this was glorious:

The problem with Sonic Youth LPs is that they sing on them. If they eliminated the vocals, they could have achieved 2nd level Dead C status (and that’s not a bad thing). The problem with Thurston Moore has always been that nobody in The History Of Rock has ever tried so hard to adopt a “cool” persona…and for the record his ex-wife Kim Gordon trails a close second. I used to see these two all the time around NYC and it was actually painful to see them “downtown” it up. On the other hand, Lee Ranaldo would come off in Washington Market Park as just a regular dad. I’m giving this book three stars for the simple reason I did not read it. If it was difficult seeing Thurston Moore in real life, why would I want to read a book about him? Three stars seems fair.”

It’s just one of those things: human lives move so fast that if you’re there at the start of something and therefore help forge the identity associated with it, then at some point ‘who you are’ becomes seen as a cliche or as a persona rather than as something original that you bequeathed to the world. Most people’s experience of this phenomenon is when their own kids look at them and sneer, roll their eyes or snigger at the idea that you were ever fresh, new, a clean sheet, an empty page starting to fill up with hasty scribbles. Being a star of one kind or another means seeing it play out across entire scenes and cities.

From my personal encounters with Thurston, from all the people I spoke to for the project (some 170 of his fellow performers), the person I met was every bit the enthusiast for life and culture he’s made about to be: 100% authentic and valiantly rare. I’ll admit I hope to retain that absence of cynicism and “seen it all before” some 30 years down the line. I got the same bright-eyed vibe when walking round the Tate Modern with Lee Ranaldo. There’s something about the generation that grew up in that moment of the NYC scene that doesn’t seem to get old…

 

I watch this and wonder if I’d be able to detect which song was being played purely from the drums without any further reference…Then I look at some of the isolated drum tracks present on YouTube and confess I often can’t see the overall track at all.

 

Caught this recently, the track ‘Salvation’ from Solar Twin’s new album Pink Noise. Lyrically there’s a lot going on, a musing on current state of music and world that’s worth following throughout. What hooked me the most, however, was the alliance of modern day pop music to the footage of Cobain in a heyday that passed some 29-to-23 years ago: genuinely an entire life time of separation. I couldn’t help but watch it and think when was the last time I saw a mainstream star genuinely acting out emotionally on stage to this extent? Sure, Cobain was aware of stage craft as anyone: seeing the impact smashing a guitar made in front of an audience in 1988 sparked a light bulb and so the reheated Who/Hendrix motif made it’s way through years of Nirvana’s live performances – but there was honesty shot through it at all times. Nirvana didn’t wreck their gear every night: it was a final ecstatic moment when happy or it was an expression of a pissed-off and rotten show – it could be both, it could be either, it was the emotion behind it that mattered. Something has definitely changed though because something so un-contrived, and that looks so right as oft-shaky handheld video footage, is rare at a time when every moment is made to be screened one way or another.

P1130757

My best recent purchase was from Little Cracked Rabbit:

http://www.littlecrackdrabbit.co.uk/box-set-subscription.html

Around 2007 to 2009, I was becoming jaded when it came to music. The internet era had it’s positives but, ultimately, being able to saturate myself in any genre, label, artist, movement at a moment’s notice wasn’t glorious, it was exhausting. DC Hardcore? Sure, here’s the ten key albums digested inside just a few weeks. The Definitive Jux label? No problem, the label’s hot streak done and dusted in little more than a month. The reduction of music to a series of clickable files robbed any sense of value for me: I could acquire it at a click, hear it at another, bin it moments later or lose it on a practically limitless hard drive the next.

The restoration of my pleasure in music took several forms. Initially it was about regaining limitations: to this day I take CDs and vinyl to the Record & Video Exchange store to trade. They have an amazing selection but it brings my budget down to where I have to commit and decide “this is what I want.” It also reopened the door to treasure hunting: a record I’d wanted to hear forever appears suddenly, being surprised to spot a band I’d never had a chance to look at. The manageability of the experience helped: instead of hundreds of hours of music I’d never get the chance to look at let alone feel something for, I’d get an amount manageable across a month.

I started to realise too that my choices mattered in an age where the bare truth is that outside of a pitiful handful of mainstream artists, the majority of indie musicians barely break-even on touring that lures only a dozen people out of their homes; on the pennies that come in through streaming and downloading. The expansion of the audience to a worldwide level hasn’t led to a commensurate increase in the money they live on day-by-day. The charts of the most widely listened to music show, to an ever-increasing degree, that though people like to say the internet exposes them to stuff they’d never hear, the truth is most people are listening to and buying the same major label (or secretly major label subsidiary) product. It’s getting harder to be heard because there’s so much musical clutter out there. The big bucks, to a greater degree than ever, can dominate what people hear about, find on playlists, and therefore listen to.

The positive of the Internet, however, was that I could ensure that my money actually went to an artist not to a corporate. The reason I buy the physical releases is because the artist gets a greater overall sum. And I buy them in two ways: direct from particular labels that I want to support; direct from the individual artist so they get everything minus their own production costs. I think it’s genuinely important that my money sustains the work and well-being of the people whose work I appreciate and there’s near no excuse not to seek them out and do it except in the rarest of circumstances i.e., a record is out of print so I can only find it on eBay or Discogs; a record is exclusively sold through a particular outlet.

Labels themselves have reacted to the modern realities of the industry by focusing not on runaway, unexpected success, but on manufacturing limited editions that they know will sell out and thus fund further activity; creating subscription series that ensure lesser known artists have a fair hearing; art editions that will appeal to those who enjoy music as a tactile experience not just a sonic one; on the human touches that enhance the connection to artist and to the music.

 

So! The Little Cracked Rabbit box set arrived in the post the other day: glorious! It’s not just about packaging, it’s about looking at something that has been composed with such care, where every aspect of it is genuinely beautiful. It’s been created as an item of artistic merit. My interest initially came about because I’ve been collecting the solo works of Norman Westberg (most famously guitarist with Swans and an ambient guitar legend in his own right) but I’ve had a glimpse now of the other three artists — Mia Zabelka, BLK w/BEAR and P.J. Philipson — and I’m finding a lot to enjoy.

The bonding of music and art at Little Cracked Rabbit made a lot of sense when I spoke to one of the gentlemen running the label. David Armes explained the label as a labour of love run with his friend and collaborator Kevin Craig. The two of them are visual artists who played music together in Last Harbour and currently in A.R.C. Soundtracks. Kevin’s work focuses on experimental film predominantly so he handles the digital side of LCR: videos, collage images for covers, flyers and so forth. David, meanwhile, is a letterpress artist so he handles the physical sleeve print and preparation.

The overall look and feel of the releases is co-designed. They’ve gone with the (wise) approach taken by labels like Young God Records and other classic music labels where there’s a shared aesthetic across the releases, a visual identity connecting each record to LCR. The simplicity, combined with the genuinely sharp design (the lettering, the stark black/white/silver, the hole in the front cover of the card CD case inside the box is all exquisite) gives it all a real electricity and impact. Take a look at the label’s catalogue and I think you get the sense of it:

http://www.littlecrackdrabbit.co.uk/releases.html

In terms of the label approach, David made a neat point about “wanting to do something low-key in expectation but high in quality; releasing whatever we like (at this point our tastes crossover) without worrying about sales, press, distribution…There’s nothing wrong with all that but we were just bored of taking it into account. We’ll never earn any money from releasing editions of 150 CDs so we need to enjoy it and do it precisely as we want.” Amen to that! People often think the joy of music, books, art is in the completion and conclusion when the pleasure has to be taken in the process because it’s that day-to-day over weeks, months, years which is the core reality and enduring experience of making anything of this nature.

Further examples of Kevin’s work are at:

http://cargocollective.com/kcraig

While David’s work is visible at:

http://www.redplatepress.com

LCR_logo_final_white_square

 

The Motor Sports International Garage show in full, Saturday September 22 1990 and the only show with Dan Peters (of Mudhoney fame) on drums. Kudos to the uploaders and all credit where due. 2 1/2 weeks later Dave Grohl would be Nirvana’s drummer and he was in the audience for this show. The turnaround was even faster than that: despite having told Peters he was a full member of Nirvana,  the chance at Grohl was too good to miss and Cobain was on KAOS Radio on Tuesday September 25 announcing Grohl was Nirvana’s new drummer.

It also ended a spell in which Nirvana had been relatively static. They’d auditioned around a dozen individuals for drums; they hadn’t yet concluded a major label deal; their output on vinyl/cassette was still strictly limited – Big Cheese/Love Buzz, Spank Thru, Bleach, the Blew EP, ‘Mexican Seafood’ on Teriyaki Asthma, ‘Do You Love Me?’ on a Kiss covers compilation, Sliver/Dive only just out that month. They’d been quiet on the live front too: since the end of the tour in May, they’d only played eight shows – Dale Crover on drums for a run with Sonic Youth and STP, an all-girl punk band from New York.

The show itself was a winner. Here’s a chunk from ‘I Found My Friends’ for fun:

Dan Peters’ anointing took place at a now-legendary September show at the Motor Sports International Garage in gloriously irreverent company guaranteed to ratchet up the excitement.

BLAG DAHLIA, THE DWARVES: We didn’t give a fuck about the Pixies or the Vaselines or David Bowie. What kind of dipshits would like that?! The Stooges, GG Allin, and Paula Abdul were our grunge-era heroes . . . Nirvana were big fans of the Dwarves’ bass player, Saltpeter; they knew he could really play. They never expressed any support for the rest of us that I am aware of, but Kurt never wore women’s clothes onstage or jumped into a drum kit until we had done both things numerous times in Seattle and nationwide.

DUANE LANCE BODENHEIMER, DERELICTS: The Dwarves, they borrowed our drum kit the first time they came up—destroyed it, and we got into a huge fight then made up the next day and became best friends. I think that was a Halloween show. I was dressed up as a girl and when the Dwarves were playing I lobbed a bottle at Blag and hit him right in the forehead. He chased me around . . . A lot of people didn’t like us just because we were dicks, not intentionally so but . . . when you’re drinking and stuff . . . We weren’t violent—it was mostly internal violence, we would fight with one another a lot. Me and Neil [Rogers] would get into it onstage—don’t know what caused that, love the guy to death, best friends, always were.

Certainly Nirvana playing in dresses wasn’t an uncommon move. Many minds thought alike.

DANA HATCH, CHEATER SLICKS: There used to be a big pile of trash in the back of that club and I’d look for some kind of prop to use onstage. That night I found this old Big Ethelt–ype dress and put that on. Merle [Allin, bassist at the time] gave me a wig he had and his girlfriend made up my face so I played in drag. When Kurt wore a dress on SNL a few years later I liked to say he got it from me, but it was hardly an original idea when I did it.

The show kicked in with the Derelicts.

DUANE LANCE BODENHEIMER: I’ve no idea how we ended up on the bill with them—we just said, “Yeah, OK, wow . . . we’re playing . . .” I had no idea how many people were going to be there—to us it was like a fucking arena . . . I remember walking out and seeing all those people, I got serious stage fright—it was awesome . . . When I came out there were a lot of rocker-type people there. I think I said some stuff like, “All right then, you long-haired hippies . . .” just talking some shit, stage banter, trying to be charming. A good show, a lot of our friends upfront yelling at us, calling us rock stars. There must have been over a thousand—to us that was . . . wow. To bands used to playing on average a hundred or less, that was scary.

Then the Dwarves kicked off.

BLAG DAHLIA: There was a charged atmosphere that night, that’s for sure. We were more concerned with getting enough gas money to get home, though. We drove up from San Francisco at Sub Pop’s suggestion for what turned out to be $100. None of the supposedly cool indie bands on the bill or allegedly cool Seattle promoters offered us anything else. But hey, they were the “nice” guys and we were a bunch of real “assholes” from California . . . I know that there was general fear of us because of the bloodshed at our shows, and a general fear of our onstage nudity and the female nudity on our record covers. Seattle was, and is, a very asexual place. Although, I always managed to get my dick sucked there!

DUANE LANCE BODENHEIMER: Somebody threw a whiskey bottle and hit the Dwarves’ bass player in the face—he started bleeding. They had that whole violent aura about them—very confrontational.

BLAG DAHLIA: I would have loved to have seen Nirvana that night. I had enjoyed their sets several other times all over the country. Unfortunately, our bassist was struck with a bottle thrown from the audience during our set and I spent the rest of the show at the emergency room with him. Concerned promoters, our label, and fellow bands on the bill all pitched in to help though, it was really beautiful . . . Psych! No one from Seattle helped out or gave a shit . . . The vibe around the band that night at Motor Sports was more like dumb-ass drunk ex-jocks from Aberdeen in Kmart flannel shirts. And because it was the Northwest, fat chicks.

The Melvins tore it up and finally Nirvana burned it down.

DUANE LANCE BODENHEIMER: Kurt was really passionate . . . lot of punks didn’t like them, hated that “grunge” word too—I can’t stand that word. But Kurt was a purist, he loved punk rock; what they did was honest rock ’n’ roll. He loved all types of music—loud, dirty, real, honest lyrically. The really hardcore punk rockers weren’t big fans. It was simple, raw rock ’n’ roll. Krist came up to me after the show and was like, “That was a great set!” He was really nice. There’s a story before that when he and I were at a show, Poison Idea was playing, a fight broke out—Krist got in a fight, I tried to step in and help and he told me, “Fuck you! Mind your own business!” so he got his ass kicked, he was hurt, and I walked up to him, “Yup . . . should have let me help ya.”

It was only here, in Autumn 1990, that Nirvana finally overtook their former mentors by ceasing to compete on someone else’s turf.

BEAU FREDERICKS, SAUCER: For me, Nirvana was a good live band then, but they could not match up to the Melvins as a heavy intense rock trio. The Melvins were consistently crushing it live, as I am sure Nirvana would agree. Nirvana came into their own when they tapped into their melodic gifts.