DEVO: Chicago, the Vic. 11.13.2009, 8 PM Night Two-Freedom of Choice (review)

Chicago, Illinois--Last night's Chicago performance was a barn burner for the many Midwestern fans of DEVO, itself being a Midwestern band going back to the early 1970s. As a matter of fact, the members of DEVO met at Kent State University during the Vietnam War era, some were members of SDS, and bassist Gerald Casale helped organize the antiwar demonstration in the spring of 1970 in which the infamous shootings took place. If you stay in the Midwest long enough, you get as weird as these guys or weirder, mostly from boredom.

Far from being "nerds," or "yuppies," DEVO began as a multimedia arts collective and still operates as one to this day. The real irony in all of this is that they never broke up and have continued to record in their Sunset Strip "Mutato" studio doing soundtrack and commercial work, the most well known being with director Wes Anderson.

Like several other old school punk and postpunk bands that have been touring this year--like the Pixies and even R.E.M.--the spuds were doing entire albums live and in their original running order. Night one was "Are We Not Men?" from 1978 (a punk classic) which sold out so quickly that another night was added to their Chicago appearance. Night two brought the entire "Freedom of Choice" LP from 1980, and yes, "Whip It" was in full bloom with all of its punch and glory. The music hasn't aged and the entire original lineup looked healthier and happier than they have in--well--over a decade, and the mood was celebratory, even for Chicago. From the opening guitar-riffs of "Girl U Want" to the more obscured album cuts like "Gates of Steel" and Mr. B's Ballroom," there was a real sense that this music hasn't aged at all...which was interesting since there were probably no more than maybe two dozen twenty-somethings to be seen. The majority of the crowd was 30-and-up, and with the bar, it was an 18-and-older show. But what the hell, people are broke all over the place these days! The audience was more fun than people watching at Wal-Mart. The icing on the cake was the gorgeous Bettie Page-style model coming out with her boxing-round cards emblazoned with "Track 1," and so on.

Some of the best times I had was looking at all of the former New Wave glam queens, now in their forties and early fifties, but still looking pretty good! Many concertgoers literally hadn't seen the group since the 1980s, or if they were like this writer it was their first time ever. The merchandising will be legendary, but there was nothing especially crass about it and it all appeared to have been made in America. All said, it was exactly what you would have wanted out of a DEVO concert and that includes Mark Mothersbaugh coming out onstage and singing "Beautiful World" in the second set dressed as the utterly grotesque "Boojie Boy," then regaling the audience in a totally surreal account of DEVO's trek to Los Angeles and meeting Michael Jackson, that he was dead, and how great it would be if he could rise from the grave like in the video "Thriller" to tell us all "what a beautiful world it truly is." The brutal truth was that there was no irony to be had!

But really, having been a budding teenager listening to Freedom of Choice when it was new, this was just a real road to Mecca moment, pure bliss. Not only is DEVO still great, they're professional and can still stop on a dime. Most of these guys are hitting their sixties, but the joy and the appreciation were so palpable that Mark Mothersbaugh, and even Gerald Casale, could only smile along with the rest of us and enjoy a very special tour in a very unique cultural moment. One of the greatest surprises of the evening was the dusting-off of a very old DEVO song, "Be Stiff," going back to the mid-1970s, almost one of the earliest songs that they ever did. Hey, they weren't going to do "Oh No! It's DEVO!" (1982) or "Shout!" (1984). Here's to art and crowd pleasers! Whoever said you can't have both in art was wrong.

Ron Asheton (1948-2009)

Ann Arbor, Michigan--Last night, it was announced that Ron Asheton, primary guitarist for the proto-punk group the Stooges, had died. Apparently, Asheton had been dead for a few days of natural causes. He was 60.

Asheton, James Osterberg (Iggy Pop), and Scott Asheton formed the nucleus of the Stooges from 1967-1974 when the band imploded over a lack of interest and the vagaries of heroin-addiction. There's nothing like that first time hearing their three albums from that era, it's a stunning experience, and nobody has sounded quite like them, either before or since.

My own personal favorite album is "Fun House," from 1970, which still sounds like the future. The Stooges were the "sister" group of the politically radical MC5, a band whose ranks have been decimated since 1991 with the death of lead-singer Rob Tyner.

Ron Asheton's place in rock and music history as an influential guitarist is secure. While too many lousy garage bands were spawned from his style (which really, was inimitable), those rare successes were worth it, from Killing Joke, to Minor Threat, to groups like the Ramones, the Sex Pistols, and even Joy Division, Asheton's style has and will continue to endure.

He was an unsung-part of punk, one of the true founding fathers of what was once a viable and important musical form, and he sat on the sidelines while others made a fortune copping his style. Asheton was beyond mere punk rock, a cultural form that ossified long ago. That's been over for a long-time, and now it's truly over. In 2007, the Stooges released what will be their final album, "The Weirdness," barring another barrage of "unreleased" material. Anything else will be posthumous, after-the-fact. It's barely known to most, but Ann Arbor and the environs of Detroit produced the earliest forms of what's known today as punk rock. That was forty-years-ago.

Think what you want of the Midwest, but we've produced a lion's share of relevant American culture over the last 100 years. Rest in peace, Ronnie, it should have been Ted Nugent. Three albums that changed the world: "The Stooges" (1969, produced by the Velvet Underground's John Cale), "Funhouse" (1970), and "Raw Power" (1973).

Postscript, 01.08.2009--NPR corrected itself today at the end of a program, noting that they had played a song from "Raw Power," which Asheton only played bass on. The main guitarist at that time was James Williamson, who last reported, was a business executive. So, NPR did an outro of "I Wanna Be Your Dog," which became incredibly subversive with the voiceover of all the contributors (money) to the show. I didn't expect anyone at NPR to know the difference, but they tried, they tried.

"Daddy wants to fuck," by The Uncredible Duke

Ed.--Good to see you back, Duke! Ladies, you can never be "one of the guys." We know it hurts, so just get over it, will ya? That's the point. Jesus. ;0)

Okay, so I promised to tell you this story. I hope it isn't too boring. This goes back to my days at Ball State University. I was always too smart for my own good, and not half as smart as I thought I was. I still am sometimes, but I'm trying a little harder to keep it in-check. I lived in an apartment with three other guys, and we were all very bohemian.

We wore black leather motorcycle jackets, even though none of us drove motorcycles. We were all intellectuals. But we were all sort of "bullyish" too. We didn't go around threatening people, but people THOUGHT we did. And we didn't really terrorize too many people, it was all just a pose, really. We were bullies in one respect: we were intellectual bullies. We were conversational bullies, if that makes any sense, and we loved to be shocking. We'd do things that would get reactions out of people.

So that's the first part of the story.

The next part is... I stopped buying text books about my third year of college. I was hitting the old man up of cash for text books one day, and he said, "I never had any of the books when I was in college. I just paid attention." And then I thought about it. The truth was, in my first two years of university, I had always BOUGHT the books. But, like Dad, I paid attention in class, and I never really used the books. (Note, I was a communications major, and liberal arts aren't all "facty" like science and medical fields), I had discovered that the Ball State Library had most of our textbooks in regular rotation, AND if you got there early enough you could just check the dang thing out for the semester. So I did this in classes which I absolutely needed the book. This leads us to...

Film Genres 301 (or some such) taught by Wes Goering. Goering was very odd. [Ed.--And he had an unfortunate last-name. Why do I think he was ugly as well?] In his late forties or early- fifties at the time. He had written a couple of books about the Marx Brothers, and he sort of resembled Groucho, but in a more Germanic sort of way. You would think he would be really wacky, but he was very very square. Or at least so eccentric as to come-off as being very square. A very "just the facts, ma'am." sort of professor, although he would utter a profanity from time to time. [Ed.--You gotta give him credit for this.]

Well, old Wes had produced and edited the textbook for Film Genres. He wrote the chapter on screwball comedies, and he had other people write the other chapters, but he was getting most of the cash. The college book stores sell used text-books, but only if they get permission from the author or a publisher. Guess who wouldn't give them permission? WES! AND it was the most expensive book I ever had for any of my classes. AND he made sure that the library's copy was reference-only and could not be checked out. [Ed.--I would have made 1,000-copies and distributed them to everyone with a pulse. Thank God for the internet--all I'm sayin.'] Whenever we would have a writing assignment, his only criticism of my work was always, "I would have liked to see more reference to the text." [Ed.--Right, HIS dumbass book. Why didn't this asshole marry himself?!] YEAH! Because I don't HAVE the text.

So we have to choose a film, and write a paper describing it the terms of a film genre. It didn't have to be something that was strictly, say, a western, or a horror. It just had to cross over into that genre enough for your analysis.

I chose to write about Blue Velvet, as a dark comedy. My paper was entitled "Daddy Wants to Fuck!" I got a C+, and got comments like "would've liked to see more from the text" and "I'm not really sure this fits."

I don't know if you've seen Blue Velvet. But it is somewhat disturbing. In fact, some find it very disturbing. It's...I guess you'd call it a psychological thriller. But here I was writing about how funny it is, throwing the f-word around fairly freely. I'm pretty certain Wes looked at me a little differently from then on. But I still think it's funny, especially the looks on the faces of my classmates when they saw the title of the paper I was turning in--AND the looks on their faces when they saw the graded paper returned. LOL

One from the Vaults of a pre-9/11 world: A 2001 Interview with avante garde hip-hop group dälek

DÄLEK INTERVIEW

words: Matt Janovic

Big hip-hop groups and artists come and go, but some names stick, and are recalled as timeless. There is the word, and the thing itself. Without question, the New Jersey unit, dalek is of this calibre, and hip-hop is what they do so well. With their acclaimed first release of "Negro Necro Nekros", on Gern Bladsten in 1998 (and their new 12" on Matador with "post-everything" Techno Animal), the reminders of rap's wilder days were clear.

And this is one of many paradoxes to this enigmatic group: a synthesis of the past, present, and future of rap, as well as life. And the future (by way of the past and present?) is what dalek and this interview are all about, oddly enough.

[Conducted via-the internet towards the end of January/early-February of 2001. All content the intellectual property of the author.]

Q:	One would find it odd that a hip-hop group would be on a punk label like Gern Bladsten, but you guys are unique. How did the deal with them ever come-into-being?
dälek:	The O. recorded a lot of bands on the Gern Blandsten roster (Rye Coalition, All Natural Lemon and Lime Flavors, Trans Megetti, Chisel, The VanPelt, etc). From there I met Charles Maggio (owner and lead singer of RORSCHACH) and hit him off with a tape of what would be "Negro, Necro, Nekros". After listening to the demo and seeing us live with Computer Cougar he wanted to put out our record.
Q:	Any future plans with Techno Animal?
dälek:	Yeah, no doubt. I dropped vocals on the And/Or remix they did for 2nd Gen (available on NovaMute Records). We did a remix for Kid606 (Ruin It, Ruin Them, Ruin Yrself, Then Ruin Me) which Kevin Martin played sax on. And I'm dropping vocals on a track for Techno Animal's full length "Brotherhood of the Bomb" which will be available in May on Matador Records. N ot to mention future tours as well as Oktopus' barbecue this summer!! You should come out.
Q:	I think there is a real connection between your sound, and the cinematic. A good part of the "Negro Necro Nekros" album is made up of extended-jams, and a lot of the sounds and instrumentation is exotic. But even better than that is the feeling of tension building and releasing in your music. Like an impending explosion of violence--that sometimes never comes until you've forgotten it was always coming!
Oktopus /dälek:	A lot of what we do musically is built on extremes. Ying and Yang so to speak. Dynamics. We try and build up to a certain level and then drop down to nothing (which lends itself to the "cinematic experience"). Most of pop music these days seems to be at one dynamic, but if you listen to jazz (American classical) or European classical or even African or Indian classical you can feel the tension build between the high and low. It used to be that rock emulated these tensions, and hiphop/punk had the feel, but lately, everything seems dead. So it might be cinematic, it might not be, but we just feel the extremes. We're waiting for a cinematographer who can depict it.
Q:	In "Untraveled Road", the line "Its all this vision that obstructs our sight...", really stood-out for me. With the intensity of your music, it reminds one of the media-overload we are all exposed to every day. And also, the sensory-overload of the urban environment.; do you think at some point the overload is intentional?
dälek:	Of course. Desensitatation is the answer to calm a blind society. 20/20 vision only lets you see what they want you to see (laser vision correction makes you of them). Vision, one of the senses that DESCARTES doubted, does not bring you closer to the self or to creation. Without senses we are left unconnected to the world that we think we experience. Blind-men could never commit racism.
Q:	How exactly did the Matador 12" with Techno Animal come about? Were you aware of them before that, or did they approach you?
dälek:	Like I said, we had a split 12" in the works. Techno Animal became the other half. They got signed to Matador Records, and they asked if the split 12" could be a Matador release, and it worked itself out.
Q:	Who are your favorite Jazz artists?
dälek:	Charles Mingus, John Coltrane, Miles Davis (Fusion Era), Rashied Ali, Gateway Trio, Jan Hammer, Thelonious Monk, John McLaughlin, Ron Carter, Canonball Adderley, Ornette Coleman Quintet, Cecil Taylor, Wes Montgomery, William Hooker, Jesse Henry, Tor Snyder, John Abercrombie, Dave Holland, Dave Brubeck, Charlie Parker, Trilok Gurtu, Grant Green, Johnny Hammond, Roy Campbell, Dave Douglass, Kurt Rosenwinkel, Bruce Eisenbeil, Jim Black, Mark Hennen, Kai Eckhart, Benny Goodman, Duke Ellington (Cara), Ravish Momin, Herbie Hancock, Danny Zanker, Eric Gale, Chick Corea, Revolutionary Ensemble (Jerome Cooper, Sirone, Leroy Jenkins), Charles Hayden, Alice Coltrane, Pharoah Sanders, Freddie Hubbard, Stanley Turrentine, Don Cherry, Ramsey Lewis, Hubert Laws, Tony Williams, Billy Cobham, Jack DeJohnette, Paul Desmond, Philly Joe Jones, Dizzy Gilespie, Anthony Davis, and those who we may have forgotten and are yet to discover.
Q:	So exactly who makes up Dalek, and what do they do?
dälek:	Still (DJ, Co-Producer); Oktopus (Co-Producer/Engineer); dälek (MC/Co-Producer) and Deadverse which includes said members and: Joshua Booth (Co-Producer) and Balthazar (Co-Producer).
Q:	There seems to have been some confusion that the Gern Bladsten album, "Negro Necro Nekros" was an EP. You guys want to clear that one up for the folks?
dälek:	I look at it like a jazz album. Its five songs, but its close to 40 minutes of music.
Q:	The Raga samples are great, it wasn't obvious at all. I've heard a few hip-hop acts use Indian music alright, but it always came-off as too "hippie." But you guys use a pretty nice palette of sounds--just about anything. What makes you decide on using one sound over another?
dälek:	We don't really choose one sound over another, its what works best with the song. We don't tend to think about it that hard, it needs to be natural. Scott LaRock.
Q:	What is your basic instrument/turntable setup (no need for exact specifics if you don't want to) live or the studio?
dälek:	Laptop, Turntables, mad Efx, and Vocals.
Q:	Hah-hah, back to the psychedelic question again. Any experiences that you would say opened new doors in your mind(s)? It's fairly well-known what Justin Broadrick's feelings on that are (I'm unsure about Kevin Martin's), so was there a feeling of "kinship" on the issue of creativity and the psychedelic experience?
Oktopus:	Yeah, I would say we definitely feel a kinship with Techno Animal, except that Justin is always rollin something?? And dälek is for the CHILDRENS!!!!!!!
Q:	In "Images of .44 Casings", the line, "Cruel, evil world, I hear your laughs--I just never gave a fuck.", just hit me so hard. It made me think of all the generations of humankind that has suffered for no good reason. But what it made think of most of all was the ancient Gnostic/occult idea that the world is "evil"-- that creation and matter itself is evil. Do you guys subscribe to the idea that the world is irrevocably flawed?
dälek:	Although I'm not very familiar with the Gnostic philosophy (I'm now interested), I do hold the belief that the world is flawed. Through my own personal experiences I feel that human nature is inherently evil. The "good" of the world seem to be a biological accident (though a necessity). Even Darwin's "Survival of the Fittest" validates the need of violence and evil to insure existence. What does "good" and "evil" mean anyway? Those are "human" terms. On the level of nature good would equate survival, not moral judgement.
Q:	A lot has been written about the "reporting-side" of hip-hop/rap, telling Middle America/"white America" about conditions in the >inner-cities, or the ghetto. But what I noticed is there are many narrators in your cuts. Sometimes, it's like God looking-down and telling us, then a quick-switch into the mind of a "Swollen tongue bum," for example. It's almost like telepathy! Am I wrong on this?
dälek:	As flattering as your analogy is, the lyrics in our songs only portray my VERY PERSONAL experiences. Your interpretation is what you get out of it, obviously. I write lyrics for myself and music for ourselves. Interpretations are secondary. Your analogy only inforces my belief in the omniprescence of a creator (NOT RELIGION). The idea that this creator exists in all of us can make this imperfect world work. Religion is a POISON.
Q:	Exactly how did the whole relationship with Kevin Martin and Justin Broadrick of Techno Animal come about?
dälek:	It was because of Dan Hill. He wrote a review of our 1st album which completely hit the mark. I sent him an email thanking him. Meanwhile, Kevin Martin had read our HipHop Connection interview and was interested in contacting us to work together. Dan Hill basically hooked it all up as he was a friend of Kevin's. We had recorded our half of the split 12" and were looking for a band to do the other half. A lot of different groups were offered, but didn't work out. Once Kevin contacted us and we heard the Techno Animal stuff it fell into place. That initial contact led to a tour with Techno Animal in Austria, Germany, and Switzerland which developed into a brotherhood.
Q:	When will we be seeing a national tour for Dalek?
dälek:	Hopefully this summer. July/August????

The Saddest Song Ever Written: "The Bed," by Lou Reed

No, it's not the "Hungarian Suicide Song." In 1973, Lou Reed was riding high. He had scored a reasonably popular single in the last year off of the LP "Transformer," produced by glam rockers David Bowie & Mick Ronson . That song was "Walk on the Wild Side," and it charted at #16 in the U.S. and #10 in the U.K. What would Lou Reed follow-up his commercially successful glam rock LP?

As Sonic Youth's Thurston Moore so aptly put it, Lou Reed followed-up "Transformer" with the most depressing album ever made. I would add that it also included the saddest song ever written on it: Berlin. The album tanked.

Making the album was so depressing that producer Bob Ezrin, who produced Pink Floyd, Alice Cooper, and a gaggle of others, told Reed to "put the tapes in a drawer and forget about it." Everyone plays on Berlin: Steve Winwood, Jack Bruce, the Brecker brothers, Aynsley Dunbar (fresh from Frank Zappa), Steve Hunter, and even Tony Levin! Almost all of them hated the album and the experience.

Before this album, rock just didn't deal much with truly adult themes, and its time had come. After Berlin, things would never be the same. It reflected the horrible disillusion of 1973. Watergate was everywhere, and the war in Vietnam was ending in a very ugly way. Heroin was everywhere. Cynicism was rampant. I don't know how you write a song like "The Bed" at the age of 30-31. You have to lose a lot of people before you even begin to understand what loss means, but it's a testament to Reed's sensitivity to understand the themes in "The Bed."

I never would have started if I'd known

That its end this way But funny thing, I'm not at all sad
That it stopped this way
This is the place where she lay her head
When she went to bed at night
And this is the place our children were conceived
Candles lit the room brightly at night
And this is the place where she cut her wrists
That odd and fateful night
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling
("The Bed," Lou Reed, 1973)

In all of American songwriting--at least--I cannot think of a sadder song. Sure, there are a few uplifting moments on Berlin, but they're hard-won. That's just like life, and it's OK to recognize this in our culture. Just two-years-later Reed would foist "Metal Machine Music" on the world, once again rejecting superstardom. Yet, he was just doing what he had with the Velvet Underground--his own thing. Maybe Lou's burned-out nowadays, but he's always going to be the voice of the Velvet Underground and the man who wrote "The Bed."