MEAT
PUPPETS
The
Haunt, Brighton, Mon 3rd June
Now,
in a change of pace, let's look at a longstanding cult band I don't
know very well...
The
Meat Puppets are now chiefly rememered from the main duo, brothers
Cris and Curt Kirwood, contributing to Nirvana's unplugged session.
(Perhaps inevitably, Nirvana seemed the more common name on the
pre-set audience's mind.) But post-punk chronicler Simon Reynolds
cites them as an example (indeed as his favourite example) of a band
who were first inspired by punk, but later found they had to escape
hardcore's constraints. (They were signed to SST, the label which
more than anyone defined hardcore's sound then spent the next few
years getting the hell away from it.) What they did next Reynolds
calls a “throwback to psychedelia”; he depicts them almost like
latter-day Jim Morrisons, soaking up drug-induced visions from the
desert.
Since
then various members have fought drug problems and done jail time; at
last count they've split and reformed twice. Back together since '06
they're now the Kirkwood brothers, Curt's son Elmo on guitar and
non-original but repeat member drummer Shandon Sahmn.
The
first half of the set is given over to hard-hitting country rock, the
stuff which sometimes got dubbed cowpunk. It's a pretty virtuous
combination. They play with hardcore's energy but with country's
rootedness and scope. Then gradually more free-form instrumentals
start to seep in, the three guitarists sometimes forming a circle to
better capture the harmonics, microphones forgotten. I'm not sure
any of it sounds psychedelic exactly, but it can
get pretty out-there. At one point Curt grabs and pulls at his
strings rather than play them.
But
best of all those points never seem like breaks. It's unlike the
noise rock sound of Sonic Youth or Big Black, an urban scene which
was also urbane. Even with Neil Young (who they in some ways
resemble) there's a feeling of instrumental sections being inserted
into previously existing songs. Here they seem to spring from the
music quite organically. It all stays rooted, even
as it shoots off into outer space.
And
the band come over pretty much like that in personality. The brothers
look so much like mechanics from some backwater gas station I
wondered if there'd been some wires-crossed booking, and there were
simultaneously some guys in leather trousers and poodle perms
hopelessly staring at a pickup engine out in Arizona. They have the
same blue-collar, getting-the-job-done attitude as the Melvins. (Perhaps they talk to us slightly more. But then
the Melvins didn't talk to the audience at all...)
For a
band that's been around so long, they seemed to attract a suprisingly
young audience. Who seemed to soak up the spacier stuff, if not the
slower moments.
VIV
ALBERTINE GROUP
Sticky
Mike's Frog Bar, Brighton, Sat 8th June
As you
know already so I don't know why I'm bothering to tell you, Viv
Albertine was the guitarist in the seminal all-girl punk band The
Slits. (A band much beloved here at Lucid Frenzy.) Recently, after
years working as a TV director, she re-started her music career.
She
refuses use of a (very Spinal Tap-like) dry ice machine by explaining
they're “an edgy band”. She's kidding, but it's not such a bad
description. They're based in the spiky sound of those post-punk
days. Imagine pop songs as pop drinks, only laced with something more
chemical. But perhaps the coolest thing is the lack of any Slits
shadow over them. (There's not a single cover version, nor any dub
influence. About the only connection is the female genitalia
reference in the acronym.)
There's
another point where, introducing the song 'Needles',
she tells us she once claimed it was about heroin but had to come
clean and admit it was really UVF. As I've said many times before,
life is too short to spend it trying to recapture your youth. Singing
about what's current in your life, but based on what you've done
before, seems a better way to go.
In
which case I should probably prefer Viv's approach to the time Ari Up reformed the Slits. But while what she's doing is
certainly braver, and this is certainly a better set than their last
time in Brighton (when about half the gig felt like warm-up), I'm not
quite sure I could say that. It's good stuff, it's very
good stuff and I might well see her again. Perhaps it is simply the
wrong idea to compare the two, and you should love each for its
unique features. But Ari seemed able to retain more of the reckless,
barely-in-control spirit of old.
'I
Don't Believe In Love' from London...
THE
BLACK ANGELS
The
Haunt, Brighton, Tues 25th June
Next
up, a psychedelic band from Austin, Texas. Home, of course, to so
much vintage psychedelia back in the day. And at times they seem to
draw from that heritage. (They have for example, played with Roky Erickson of the Elevators.) But it's a particular
well they're drawing from. They do have occasional forays into the
world of retro-Sixtiesism, with swirling organ sounds and the odd
shaken tambourine. At times there's even a discernible surf element,
though who knows how far the nearest beach would be from Austin.
But
mostly I am pleased to report they choose to sup from the poisoned
well, conjouring Altamont more than Woodstock. (The clip below is
called 'Bad Vibrations', which gives you a pretty
good clue what they're up to.) Eerily underlit, like schookids
telling ghost stories, they serve up lumbering riffs with twangy
guitar overlays. A general mood of ominousness can break out into
shitstorms of noise. Those riffs even suggest at a Fifties influence,
the ghosts of Link Wray and Duane Eddy.
They
wait for the encore before filling it with the longest and most
involved track of the night; starting with just organ and vocals,
then gradually ratcheting up into sheer white noise terror.
They
certainly seem popular. The venue was rammed, the fullest of any of
my recent visits. And everyone except me seemed to know each track as
soon as it started up. I'd be tempted to call them "very good indeed",
but that might be insufficiently Americanised. So instead I'll say
they're "like totally awsome, bro".
In
truth, the only thing I can really find to criticise is their name.
Admittedly it's fitting and it's based not only on a Velvets song but
one of my favourite ones. And Nico makes for a cool icon on their
logo. But there's the rub! This growing tendency to name your band
after a track by an existing band can feel like duplication. It's
like those “then try this” sections on internet shopping sites,
it's the re-enactment attitude to music that reaches it's nadir in
Oasis' smudged photofit of the Beatles and Stones.
The
irony being that, while they are perhaps one of the more openly
influenced bands of my recent gig-going, Black Angels certainly
aren't mere copyists and shouldn't be named as though they are. More
soon! But better-named more.
Not
from Brighton but London.
And if you like that you
may like this – a full set from Rockpalast. Haven't got round to
watching all of this myself yet to be honest. Let me know if it's any
good, would you?
MISSION
OF BURMA
The
Haunt, Brighton, 1st July
“We're
a band that takes a while to get going”, explains drummer Peter
Prescott during a break. He leaves a pause before finishing the gag.
“Like about thirty years.”
The
jury' still out on how much he was joking. This Boston-based
post-punk band had an all-too-brief heyday, producing one classic
full-length album ('Vs' in '82), before splitting
and being reconciled with... you guessed it... cult status.
True,
they had a better excuse to bow out than most. Guitarist Roger Miller
suffered increasingly from Tinnitis, a condition little accommodated
by their characteristic blistering volume. (YouTube footage of later
gigs show him resorting to rifle-range noise-cancelling headphones.)
Pretty soon he had no choice but to go off and do something less
noisy instead. Tonight he seems chiefly protected by a thicket of
hair which, combined with the gap of time, leaves him almost
unrecognisable.
From
the days of Lennon and McCartney, classic bands are often powered by
the creative frisson of two opposite but complementary creators.
Bassist Clint Conley's songs tended to the doomy cool and anthemic
thunder of the era, an East Coaster with ears out to England. While
Miller's contributions tended more towards shredded noise. They
marked the era when sonic assault and musical experimentalism seemed
almost comrades in arms, and were part of the direction Fugazi, Sonic
Youth and Big Black would take music. (There's Burma tracks which
sound almost like Fugazi, years before Fugazi existed.)
Except
with Mission of Burma there was in quite a literal sense an extra
dimension. If George Martin could be claimed as the fifth Beatle,
there is a far more clear-cut case for the fourth Mission member.
Martin Swope would tape their live gigs, manipulate the sound and
then feed it back even as they continued playing. Tonight, and since
their '02 reunion, he's replaced by their only non-original member –
Bob Weston. (Who charmingly if eccentrically still insists on using
the loops and effects technology from the period.) Prescott has commented “we wanted to play this hammer-down drony
noise stuff, but we also wanted another sound in there.”
Their
single 'Trem Two'(above) pictured each band
member, but superimposed over one another. And a better
visual metaphor for the sound couldn't be found. Think not so much of
3D films as they are but as they're marketed. The music is loud and
upfront, with plenty of attack to it. But it also has a kind of
waterline behind that, beneath which lurk murky sonic depths, only
half discernible.
The
tape effects are particularly haunting when vocals are fed back while
no-one's actually singing. But perhaps they become most evident at
the end of the main set. In the traditional manner of the era,
guitars were left against amps to create a howlaround. Except this
was then taken up and treated. It was less a tape effects solo, more
a mini noise symphony.
You
may well be waiting to find what ignorant of this time round. Well
I'd have to admit to being woefully unfamiliar with their
post-reunion recordings. Yet I'm still kind of glad these dominated
the set, even if they elbowed out some of my favourite numbers. They
didn't mark any appreciable dip in quality. And they mark a band
trading in music, not in nostalgia.
If
there was a weakness, it was probably the one alluded to in the
opening. Slightly chaotic gigs, with long gaps between songs, were
commonplace in that era while distinctions between performance and
rehearsal were scant. As Conlin comments jokingly “at least you
know it's not manufactured”. And they keep to
once-common-now-forgotten rules, such as rejecting set lists to make
each gig unique and fresh. But then was then, and too much stalling
spoils the supper, or however that saying goes. Could we not strike a
bit more of a happy medium between professionalism
and spontaneity?
But
that minor grumble aside... overall, a legend that still lives.
This
clip is handy in epitomising their sound by serving up a Miller and then a Conley track...
AKRON/FAMILY
The
Haunt, Brighton, Sat 20th July
Once described by a reliable source of gossip as a “folk-influenced
experimental rock band”, Akron/Family are perhaps chiefly known for
doubling up as Michael Gira's backing band Angels of Light when he's not busy reforming
Swans. And in yet another sign of how little I actually know about
culty music, despite having written about Swans not once but twice, I don't really know Angels of Light at all. But then
that seemed all the more reason to finally check these guys out...
Let's
start with the hardest to miss – the bass player. (Who, in our
standard police parlance, I now know to be Miles Seaton.) Despite
dressing ex-military, bearing the most stern of beard from a very
stern set of beards and never breaking into such a thing as a smile,
he effectively becomes the master of ceremonies. Possessed of that
American outgoingness, he's forever encouraging us to overcome our
English reserve and cut loose. He managed to get going a crowd
singalong, substantial enough for the band to break off for a bit.
The sort of thing bands can end gigs with. Here it happened in the
second number. This clearly isn't going to be one of those “meh”
gigs, where you're thinking about which bus to get home during the
encore. This is going to be a gig you respond to,
one way or the other.
It
wouldn't be quite right to say they took off where the Meat Puppets
left off, in our new 'post-rock' world. But let's go with the
neatness of that anyway. There's the same sense of roots, though
perhaps more in folk than in country. There's the same breadth of
style, from achingly beautiful melodies to double-guitar assaults to
full-on noise. (Though I called Seaton the bassist earlier, the band
swap instruments with impunity. At one point they collectively join
in on the drumming.) Like a weather system, the styles alternately
replace and subsume one another – breaks of sunshine opening up
into downpours.
But
most of all there's the same effortless naturalness to it, the lack
of any sense of self-conscious eclecticism – a feeling of just
doing it.
It's
also reminiscent of the apocalyptic folk of Bonnie Prince Billy, like
now we're in the end days music's role is to soundtrack it. You keep
thinking this must be the last number, as each track mounts to the
point it seems impossible to follow. Yet when the gig finally ends it
does it the way it began, with a stripped-back ballad, Seaton singing
eyes half-closed.
None
of my analogies really fit, to be honest. At the end of the day, they
pretty much just sound like Akron/Family. If that's not an
endorsement, I don't know what is..
Not
sure anything from this gig made it onto YouTube. Instead, here's a
full twenty-two minutes of them from Minneapolis, earlier this
year...
Coming Soon! Would you believe it? More gig-going adventures...
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