Author: andrea Page 12 of 72

SUSAN & I IN NYC, 2005

Just days after she had received the diagnosis for the cancer that would end her life, my best friend Susan Curran gifted me with a magnet that proclaimed (in a jokey retro font): “I may be old, but I got to see all the cool bands.”

At the time it was a joke between us, since we were both reaching “that age” where early shows are a blessing and SEATING is a fucking godsend.

Now that she’s passed away at the untimely age of 41, I want to say, “We’re NOT old, and you had way too much time left. SHOULD have had so much more time left. Damn it, who’s going to see the 20th anniversary LAST SPLASH shows with me?!”

But she didn’t, which seems radically unfair. Fate works in some twisted ways. It hasn’t sunk in and probably won’t fully for a long time to come.

Susan started WARPED REALITY with me and rapidly became someone I considered an essential collaborator. The two of us had a kind of wonderful mind-meld: each of us spurred the other to greater creative heights. And we unfailingly trusted one another’s creative judgment and advice in all things: editorial, aesthetic and personal.

More than that, we were best friends who had more adventures than I can count. Usually, music was the spark but we loved seeing the world together when and where we could. Travel to Glasgow to see Prolapse and Arab Strap at King Tut’s Wah Wah Hut? Why not. Take two weeks to go to London for the 1st time and celebrate 4AD’s 13th anniversary? What the hell.

Once we graduated from college and settled into careers, those spur-of-the-moment adventures became fewer and far between. But we still found the time, whether it was spending New Year’s Eve in Paris with Susan and her husband Matt or meeting up in Williamsburg, Brooklyn to attend the first-ever Smorgasburg, we MADE the time.

I’m thankful for all those wonderful memories now as I contemplate a Susan-less future. Much love into the ether, Susan — we all love you and miss you.

Blevin Blectum
Area C
tfo
The Salon
Providence, RI
Dec. 2

Friday I went to The Salon to see Area C, Blevin Blectum and tfo do their thing.

Maybe “see” is the wrong word: the Salon’s subterranean music space is dark and cavelike. But the vibe is friendly, the drinks are delicious (The Bushwick, I’m looking at you) and the acoustics surprisingly sharp.

The show turned out to be a refreshing hybrid of extended DJ set and traditional concert, where each group’s music flowed fairly seamlessly into the next. Tonally it’s well-orchestrated, upending the usual ascend-to-the-crescendo cliché by being alternatively high-energy and reflective.

As one half of barmy SF acid-techno duo Blectum from Blechdom, Blevin Blectum’s OG persona was Gidget-Goes-Psych-Out, but these days, with her stick-straight black hair and pale, painted face, she’s affecting a more intense pagan techno goddess vibe. I half expect dry ice and fog.

Tonight she unveils “Beast 6,” a trippy, collagist mashup of medieval Tolkein mythos, absinthe-soaked visuals and snakelike beats. Billed as a “MixedMediaMultiMonsterMusicMonstrosity for light, sound, people, & shadow,” it lives up to its billing as a wild, enthralling ride — equally chaotic, surreal and hypnotic.

I find it a lot more thoughtfully-paced and palatable than what little I’ve heard of Blevin from Blectum —which I describe to a friend as “like being stuck in a centrifuge with a bunch of ping pong balls.”

Erik Carlson’s solo project Area C is unhurried and pastoral. Using just a beat-up old Rickenbacker and a slew of effects pedals, he fills the room with beautiful sound textures —fitting, given that his day job encompasses sound and installation art. It’s lovely.

Providence DJ-and-everything-but-the-kitchen sink duo tfo’s closing set continues the soundscape vibe, with the eerie, almost human tonalities of violin subbing in for Area C’s guitar abstractions.

The two have been doing a lot of soundtrack work lately (including the monumental 12-hour score for Gus van Sant’s Endless Idaho), so it makes sense that 1) they’ve built such a level of trust that they leave a lot of room for one another to maneuver and 2) this is primarily a mood piece that amplifies the spectral qualities of the violin to great effect.

But overall it’s uplifting, not spooky —ending the evening on a resolutely optimistic note.

PHOTO BY A. FELDMAN | DESIGN MUSEUM, LONDON

I’m still shocked that Sonic Youth’s Kim Gordon and Thurston Moore have separated after 30 years together and 24 years of marriage.

As a band, Sonic Youth is undeniably emblematic of the couple’s creative and personal partnership; news of the split cannot help but leave the band at a major crossroads. A Matador press release puts the band’s future at “uncertain,” and leaves it at that.

Sonic Youth sprang out of NYC’s fertile and fractured No Wave scene of the early 1980s. Some of the bands — von LMO, Swans — were heavy and masculine, often violent and over-the-top. Sonic Youth, despite their emphasis on guitar abstraction, brought an intriguing balance of masculine and feminine energy.

Going all the way back to the beginning, you can hear that energy in one of their very first shows, from 1981’s Noise Fest at White Columns. Vocal duties here are shared by Thurston, Kim and artist friend Ann deMarinis, who left to pursue performance art.

Video stills are from Charles Atlas’ rare and wonderful oral history of the mid80’s NYC scene, Put Blood Into the Music. (Here’s hoping this gets proper release some day.)

(Wow, is that a CHROME t-shirt?!)

Sonic Youth, “Track 1” (Live at White Columns | Noise Fest, 6.18.81)

Sonic Youth, “Track 2” (Live at White Columns | Noise Fest, 6.18.81)

Sonic Youth, “Track 3” (Live at White Columns | Noise Fest, 6.18.81)

Sonic Youth, “Track 4” (Live at White Columns | Noise Fest, 6.18.81)

Sonic Youth, “Track 5” (Live at White Columns | Noise Fest, 6.18.81)

STILL FROM CHARLES ATLAS’ “PUT BLOOD INTO THE MUSIC”