Author: andrea Page 28 of 71

Unrepentant Anglophile, a music obsessive with a fetish for luxuriously packaged objects, and an armchair traveler.

Interview: BYRON COLEY

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I’m pretty sure that the first mention of No Wave that I ever encountered was in an old issue of Spin(Bongo cover?) in an article written by Byron Coley. So, there’s a nice kind of symmetry to corresponding with him on the topic now. Better still, there’s a sumptuous volume to go along with, the just-released No Wave: Post-Punk. Underground. New York. 1976-1980 [Abrams], co-authored with Thurston Moore.

+ Can “No Wave” be defined?

As befits the name itself, No Wave is easier to define by what it is not than what it is. Although the earliest presumed practitioners (China/Mars) assumed they were working in a fairly orthodox “underground rock” tradition, the truth it that their sensibilities were so strange their potential to actually follow in the steps of Television (or whomever) was extremely limited.

The Smith/Verlaine/Hell generation of NY undergrounders were intoxicated by a certain kind of mystique that was based on rock & roll. Mars’ music was based on that too, of course, but it feels as though the R n’R impulse was buried under a lot of art that was deemed more functionally important than R n’R per se. The decision to start detuning guitar strings and playing slide the way that Connie did were only tangentially related to any known rock tradition.

Lydia immediately latched onto the rawness and unschooled quality of their sound, understanding that they were doing much more to break with the tradition of R n’R than any of the punk bands of that era, who were as indebted to Chuck Berry as any other generation of musicians. Punk —at the time— was supposed to be about the dissolution of technical barriers between audience and performer. People were supposed to react by thinking “Hey, I could do that.” Lydia’s huge gesture —which happened contemporaneously to things like the original Half Japanese— was to take the idea of obliterating technique literally. She denies working this theory as art, and maybe it was just pure instinct, but it created a stance inside of which musicianship became sublimated to performance, at least for the core of the bands involved. I don’t think the fact that so many bands used harsh textures in their music was so much about the need to use harsh textures as it was about the decision that it was not necessary to do otherwise. My contention that the theatrical element was as (if not more) important than musicality seems borne out by the testimony of various people that they were selected because of how they looked, or that they were enlisted for positions in bands because they were handy. People refer to certain contemporary rhythms or guitar sounds as being “no wave-y” and I know what they mean, but there’s a world of difference between, say, the keyboard sounds in Theoretical Girls and that of The Contortions (both of which were central to the whole), or the guitar sound in the Gynecologists and Teenage Jesus (ditto). What really tied them together more than anything else was having a certain attitude in a very specific time and place. Beyond that, the term is infinitely flexible.

+ What first drew you to the No Wave scene? And what makes it compelling, so many years later?

I was around Manhattan, writing for NY Rocker at the time the music was being made. I was out of town a lot, but the bands were always interesting to me, even though I didn’t necessarily like them any more than I had initially liked Suicide. But anything that extreme was compelling, and once there were records to play, it was possible to really start getting into the music in a way that was never easy for me in a live setting, except with the Contortions. It’s compelling both because it re-emerged as a hot cultural reference in the last few years, and also because many of the performers involved are still making interesting music.

+ How has the book changed in conception and/or scope since you and Thurston first kicked around the idea? What first sparked it?

The finished book is pretty much as Thurston & I imagined it. We may have initially thought about including more fliers or record covers or discographical whatsis. But we heard about the Marc Masters book. It seemed as though he’d be covering that angle pretty well, so we decided to focus on trying to get the story laid out in a fairly clear way, show how small the scene actually was, and try to sort out some of the chronological things that have long vexed serious historians of the scene. Since we were pals with many of the principals, we were able to put together a fairly coherent version. Although there are still people we’d like to talk to.

As to where the idea started, we had been talking about the need for a good no wave history since we first met back in the early ’80s. We both love Manhattan and its underground traditions, especially those of the post WWII era, and the no wave scene was such a great thing, and seemed so tractable. It was a natural.

+ No Wave drew its considerable power from NYC’s near-total desolation. Do you think it could have happened anywhere other than New York?

Well, there were parallel scenes (of sorts) in London and Berlin and Melbourne and probably other places as well. The best elements you can have for the creation of any good scene is a magnet city (the larger the better) in throes of financial hardship. There needs to be abundant cheap space available. After that, it’s all a roll of the dice.

+ At the time, was there a sense of No Wave being an anti-movement, a marked break from what had come before? Or was it a lot more organic than that?

Really, my sense of it at the time was that there were just these interesting bands, and some of them seemed to play together a lot. I’m not sure that anyone really gave much thought to any of it as a movement until the NO NY comp came out —and by the time that happened it was really all over. At the time, I was thinking of bands like the T-Girls as being “experimental,” like the LAFMS bands or something like that. New York had a certain style thing going on, but it was only after the flash had already burned our eyes that we were able to discern patterns. Not many people thought of it as a movement ’til after it was done. So I’m not sure. Branca was definitely collecting fliers by certain bands —maybe to him it was a movement.

+ I have this possibly naïve notion that everyone in DNA, Theoretical Girls, Mars, UT, etc. all lived in the same four-block radius, shared rehearsal spaces and talked art & music together, leading to a cross-pollination of musical styles and influences happening all at once. How close-knit was the scene?

There definitely were points of power in the whole thing. But it’s important to remember that things were evolving very fast at that time. Every week there was some new band with some new record that really seemed like the most important thing ever. People moved in and out bands and apartments pretty fast. But yeah, if you look at the family tree in the front of the book, you can see that things were all pretty closely linked. It really was pretty incestuous, if not always in the sexual way that some people would have you believe.
+ Was there really a strict line between the Soho and East Village factions, as Glenn Branca implies? What was the primary difference between the two?

Well, in some senses the line was porous. There were certainly people from the more established Soho/Tribeca art scene who were active in the Lower East Side bands (Donny Christensen, Sumner Crane, Nancy Arlen, etc.), but the biggest difference, in my opinion, had more to do with intent and technique. Guys like Branca and Lohn and Chatham were real musicians, in a way that the Lower East Side crowd (apart from the Contortions) were not. There were many non-musicians involved in the Lower East Side bands in a way that was not necessarily reflected on the west side. There was also the fact that Rhys had his Kitchen gig well in hand, and certain connections that flowed from that. Jeffrey Lohn had his loft and all that implies. Lydia, Arto, Mark Cunningham…these folks were not even rockers by any standard measure.

+ Reading about under-appreciated bands like Terminal, Ping Pong and Daily Life made me long for an accompanying CD. Are there any plans for such a thing? Are there bands that ended up outside the scope of the book that you wish you could have included? If so, who?

It would have been great to have a CD, but the rights would have been problematic and held the book up. It would be great project to do. And I keep hearing about people planning to do things, so hopefully it will happen. There are some bands that I wish we had more info on: Jack Ruby and Arsenal especially. But there were a few key people we had trouble tracking down, or that we could never find the right time to talk with. We transcribed over 300,000 words of interview (that was just the useful material, a fraction of the whole), but there were a lot of people we spoke with who didn’t have a lot of memories about specifics. Can’t say I blame them!

+ Was it hard to find some of these people? I’m always surprised, for instance, to see quotes from Charles Ball, given how complete his disappearance was for so many years. (Along those lines, has anyone found Ed Bahlman yet?)

There are a few people who are very elusive and have made an effort to go underground. But most of them can be found if you just ask the right people. Working at NY Rocker, I used to see Ball all the time. I just asked the people I knew he hung out with in those days and eventually found someone who’d kept in touch. I didn’t try to find Bahlman, so I don’t know. Some of these label guys are pretty squirrely.

+ No Wave was certainly the most sexually integrated scene to emerge out of punk. As Thurston says, “It didn’t pronounce itself —it just was.” In light of the fact that female musicians are, by and large, still held to so many sexist double standards, No Wave’s gender-equality is even more remarkable. Why do you think the scene was so well-balanced?

Well, the first band on the scene —Mars— was half female, but not in any kinda standard woman-rocker way. Connie was so weird, she just WAS. It was Connie who set Lydia’s brain on fire. And Lydia was the leader of Teenage Jesus pretty firmly, using a facade that was as thick as any I’ve ever seen. The Contortions (line-up 2) had Adele and Pat in roles that were instrumental rather than kittenish, then Ikue was drumming in DNA. It was just an organic way to involve people who were around. And I think it was Pat Place who said something along the lines of —most of the guys who were involved were coming from an art school background, which is not that macho to start off with. Throw a bunch of strong women into the mix, and no one will dare to say boo about it.

+ When I first heard about the book, I assumed it would culminate in an account of Noise Fest at White Columns, which happened in 1981. Why end the book in 1980?

We thought about that, but none of the bands actually survived long enough to play there (apart from DNA who were too pricey right then). It would have involved getting into the whole next generation of bands, which would be cool, but also opens a whole kettle of fish. We decided to just focus on the key bands of a brief moment, and I’m pretty happy with the way it turned out.

PS: Noise Fest needs to be released on CD. I’m just sayin’.

I agree. But Thurston stole my copy. Bastard.

No Wave: Post-Punk. Underground. New York. 1976-1980 | New York Noise, Vols. I-III | Bush Tetras [official] | Ut [official]

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Contest-Winners

MP3Boris Policeband, “Tow Away”

MP3Bush Tetras, “Too Many Creeps”

MP3Jules Baptiste’s Red Decade, “Scars of Lust” (excerpt)[Live at White Columns, June 1981]

MP3Sonic Youth, “Untitled” [Live at White Columns, June 1981]

MP3Ut, “Mosquito Botticelli/Sham Shack” [Live in Belgium, July 27, 1987]

Read yrself raw | No Wave in print

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A few years ago, who’d have thought that scrappy, oddball No Wave would have its own little Modern Library? It’s a testament to its decidedly hard to define, thorny nature that each of the following books is indispensable in its own way, offering up fresh takes on a scene that never stuck around long enough to wear out its welcome.

(No Wave Post-Punk Underground 1976-1980 will be covered in more depth on Sunday.)

NY Noise [Soul Jazz] The companion book to the excellent Soul Jazz series of the same name, NY Noise isn’t exclusively about No Wave, per se. Paula Court’s noirish, often stark, photographs capture the vibrancy of the downtown scene in all its stark, often desperate glory. Flitting from avant-art space the Kitchen to the latest Robert Wilson production at BAM to smoke-filled late nights at the Mudd Club, Court’s NY scene plays out like an all-night party populated by insane geniuses.

No Wave [Black Dog] Blending a treasure-trove of rare archival visuals with a carefully-researched history, Marc Masters’ volume brings (critical) order to No Wave’s chaos, without sacrificing or otherwise blunting the obvious vibrancy and volatility of the music. (No mean feat.) Drawing on an exhaustive array of interviews and archival material, the book is, quite simply, a great read. (The pictures are fantastic, too.)

The Downtown Book: The New York Art Scene, 1974-1984 [Princeton] A more academic take on the downtown scene, this companion book to two exhibits at NYU and Parsons depicts the creative denizens of downtown as desert flowers, persisting in spite of (to spite?) the scorched-earth landscape around them. None of these books glorify (morally) bankrupt, rat-infested, desolate NYC, but The Downtown Book is especially hard-hitting in its assessment. The apocalyptic vibe is only magnified by the looming AIDS epidemic, which was soon to decimate NYC’s creative community.

Matthew Yoblonsky’s chapter on No Wave cinema is a valuable companion-piece to Marc Masters’ chapter on the subject. Fantastic visuals here too.

• Punk tabloid Search & Destroy was never just about No Wave, but a rich, inclusive, and often surprising take on the punk scene —not just in San Francisco, where the magazine was based, but on a global scale. Tabloid-sized and writ large, the magazine could be in-your-face and even ugly where the stark realities of life in the 20th century were concerned. But the interviews were far more in-depth and thoughtful than you’d expect from a scrappy zine, never once going the expected route. Where else could you read about Tim Wright’s adventures in the jungles of Belize? Or Winston Tong’s fascination with Chinese puppetry?

When the magazine inevitably ran its course, successor RE/Search (currently available in tabloid reprints) went even further left-field, mixing music journalism and vibrant photography with highly politicized, outspoken cultural coverage; equally fascinated by the clash of modern and ancient cultures (later explored more fully in the RE/Search series Modern Primitives), a single eclectic issue spanned topics as diverse as Kathy Acker, SF punks Flipper, Sordide Sentimentale , and cannibalism. Publishers V Vale and A. Juno’s intellectual, gut-feeling approach to their subject matter gave much-needed credence to what was seen as a teenage subculture; for them, Punk is personal, political —and, ultimately, indelible.

PS: I’m running a few days behind with posts. You now have until Sunday to send in contest entries. I’ll be drawing winners and posting my interview with Byron Coley on Monday. Thanks!

No Wave| NY Noise| No Wave Post-Punk Underground 1976-1980 | The Downtown Book | Search & Destroy/ReSearch | Theoretical Girls| Y Pants | ubuweb

MP3The Static, Live at Riverside Studios, London, 24 Feb 1979 (from Audio Arts Supplement)

MP3Theoretical Girls, “US Millie” (Live at the Kitchen, April 9, 1979) [courtesy of Acute]

MP3Barbara Barg + Barbara Ess, Excerpts from “Streetcar Named Desire (for Blanche)”(from Tellus 5 & 6: Special Double Audio Visual Issue)

MP3Y Pants, “Beat It Down” (from Noise Fest, recorded at White Columns Gallery, NYC, 16-24 June 1981)

NO WAVE Week | Part 1

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From the beginning, No Wave was an anti-movement set up in stark opposition to punk’s tired reliance on conventional three-chord riffs. Stylistically exploiting the frisson between crudity and sophistication, groups like Suicide, DNA, and Ut reflected New York City’s moral chaos back on itself, turning art into shock therapy. (TV Party‘s Glenn O’Brien once quipped that No Wave was “a Gong Show for geniuses.”)

From such assaultive beginnings, No Wave proved to be a complicated, elastic, genre-hopping beast. Subsequently, its influence has proven more long-lasting than the movement itself: its blend of twitchy disco, corrosive noise, and lo-fi recording techniques shifted paradigms, throwing off the lumbering bombast of mid ‘70s MOR with short, sharp, shocking songs that drew blood, striking nerves as well as chords. A generation later, these sounds are still au courant.

Here, Robin Crutchfield (DNA, Dark Day) ; Sally Young, Nina Canal, and Jacqui Ham of Ut ; and Phil Kline (the Del-Byzanteens, Dark Day) offer up their recollections.

Robin Crutchfield: Lydia Lunch of Teenage Jesus & the Jerks coined the phrase in an interview inNew York Rocker with Roy Trakin, when he asked her if her music was “new wave.” She leered and jeered at him like he was an idiot, with the crack “’New Wave’? More like No Wave!!!” You’d have to talk to her, but her band and a few others really reacted against the whole 3-chord rock school of bands that were coming out of England like the Sex Pistols. It was a kind of disassembling of what passed for the time as rock and roll, taking apart the chords, the rhythms, the over-rehearsed quality of it. It needed to be screamingly raw and fresh like a newborn baby, screaming its lungs out, pulled into a polyester 70s world of American tedium.

Jacqui Ham, Ut: Originally there were two kinds of aesthetics going on: the sound of the so-called “No Wave” was more dirt, raw, dissonance —harder in every way; the Soho sound was arty, intellectual, detached. This division was present even in the Talking Heads vs. Television and the Ramones, which were the East Village thing. The line was blurred, but there was a kind of reverence in Soho, in part because they were interfacing with the idea of being serious composers or they were artists coming in from that perspective.

The “No Wave” thing was more irreverent, but it wasn’t a case of academic vs. not. Only a few people were coming in from a trained perspective, but everyone was influenced by avant-garde classical composers. You heard Einstein on the Beach blaring out of windows mixing with “Lady Marmalade.” This was the environment. People’s musical backgrounds varied, but it wasn’t necessarily influencing what they were doing —it depended on how much they were, or chose to be, indoctrinated by their past.

Robin: I recall that time as one where the scene burst wide open to experimentation, from art into music. It was the beginning of the do-it-yourself era with bands, labels, and venues breaking out of old molds and trying new things.

The most wonderful thing about it to me was to spread the word that, hey, you don’t need musical training, or even much talent: if you’ve the will, you’ll find the way… When it comes down to it, rock music isn’t about skill, it’s about the need for self-expression.…

Nina Canal, Ut: There were people from literally all musical corners and many other disciplines who quickly gravitated toward this scene —which was so wide open.

Phil Kline: The point is that everybody felt that all of it —rock, weird music, performance, film— was art and that, in a way, anyone who was serious was an equal, regardless of “credentials.” The way you lived was art. It sounds pretentious but it wasn’t really.

Robin: The scene started smaller, poor downtown artists and kids hanging out at art gallery openings for the free wine, and sharing ideas at cheap Tribeca Bars. A lot of the collaboration came through attending a variety of small events like performance art and private loft concerts and so on. Hanging out, meeting, talking into the night about ideas. Pooling money to timeshare rehearsal spaces.

When you didn’t have a job, or a TV, and only had a cheap crash pad on the lower east side with low rent, there wasn’t much to occupy your time but make art, talk about art, and experience other people’s art. As bands we even pooled our efforts to make our way into bookings at places like CBGB’s where the music was a little too different from The Ramones or Patti Smith to interest Hilly Krystal into booking us. We peppered the audience at early gigs with our own raucously cheering supporters leaving Hilly to think that this actually had appeal to more than a few.

The audiences started out being other bands and artists who were very supportive. You had a few old school rock fans cursing and throwing bottles, but mostly they were made to feel like they weren’t cool; like they were somehow out of the loop, their jeers being drowned out by supporters cheers and screams. The foundations of people who thought they were cool were pulled right out from under them.

Lydia [Lunch] could tell you a lot about that. She punished her audiences with brilliantly brutal music; no two hour sets with 20 minute guitar solos, Teenage Jesus & the Jerks delivered 8 minute sets of one minute songs, in a one-two punch onslaught that had them begging for more. She was an artistic underage genius! She minimalized the structure of her music, abbreviated it, and punctuated it. She took away her drummer’s drums and left him with only a snare and one cymbal to play. I think at one point she even made him use only one drumstick. The basslines were simple and insistent. Her guitar stopped and started in spasmodic jerks the way a sob grabs at you. I really think Teenage Jesus & the Jerks as a conception was the most amazing thing that came out of music in the entire decade of the ’70s.

Nina: NYC in late ‘77–‘80 was in a magical zone of sorts. I had come from London after the swinging ‘60s & 70s and NY actually blew my mind completely by being a place where anything was creatively possible! The scene that happened came about organically and spontaneously and burned out fast because it went against the “normal” grain of the way of things from the start. It was at once anarchic and inclusive: everyone was equal for the blink of an eye, so the field of possibilities just went wide open —BANG, just like that. And also just as suddenly there were other people of all disciplines starting up bands to play what I call “weird loud music” or spoken word stuff too, and yes, it was very village-like in many ways, with most living in the East Village or at least downtown.

Jacqui:There was a consciousness of making a new music, of progressing.

There was a natural progression from the Velvet Underground to Mars, as there was from 60’s rock to the Ramones. It was organic, but it was radical. It was stripping down to the essence, taking things further, taking things as far as they would go.

MP3Ut, “Fire In Philly” (from the Blast First comp Nothing Short of Total War, Vol. 1)

MP3Dark Day, “No, Nothing Never” (from Exterminating Angel), 1981)

MP3The Del-Byzanteens, “Girl’s Imagination” (from The Del-Byzanteens), 1981)

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