50 albums to take to my grave #26: Throwing Muses/untitled

The words 'troubled' and 'tortured' are often thrown around to describe artists who seem to come across as erratic, morose, dark and moody. Thing is, Kristin Hersh is one of the very few artists to whom these words could actually genuinely apply. As a teenager, she was plagued with mental health issues, eventually diagnosed as bi-polar. She became pregnant and had her child taken from her, regarded as an unfit mother. Her demons forced her to write twisted, almost schizophrenic songs that evoked episodes of mania and frantic, violent mood swings.

While still 16, her band Throwing Muses recorded 'The Doghouse Cassette', a 10-song demo. Somehow, it resulted in a record deal. The band became the first American act to sign to 4AD, the only people it seemed who could understand just what the hell this music was all about. The demos were re-recorded and Throwing Muses' debut album emerged in 1986.

If you can get through the whole thing in your first sitting, you've done well. It's certainly one of the most uncomfortable records you'll ever hear, even disturbing at times. Commonly referred to as the band's self-titled debut, it was actually untitled.[1] That's understandable; I'm not sure what you could call this album. Hersh sounds possessed. It maybe her voice, but 'the voices' made her do this. It's utterly astonishing, breathtaking and bewildering. It's also more than just a little frightening. Vicky's Box epitomises the anguish and terror. "I only love pieces of things that I hate / Like this box" she shrieks. A myriad of strange chords and uneasy rhythms cascade around her, making the whole thing rather unnerving.

Perhaps the most troublesome of all is the closing track Delicate Cutters. Hersh's voice is accompanied only by her acoustic guitar and the ominous rumbling of David Narcizo's drums. And the voice is devastating. It stops you in your tracks as you wonder what the fuck is going on in her mind. "The walls never leave / And the walls begin to scream."

The disconcerting mood rarely lifts, though there is room for some decent tunes as well. Soul Soldier remains a career highlight, its nod to country music hinting at a sound the band would occasionally revisit. Tanya Donelly's sole contribution Green is another one that sneaks up on you, though it is one of the darker moments of her repertoire. Call Me seems to come charging at you right from the off, but its second half becomes more melodic.

The first Throwing Muses stuff I heard was the infinitely more accessible 'Hunkpapa' album a few years later. When I first heard this debut, it scared me half to death. I wondered how a band that made this record could have gone on to play an arena tour with R.E.M. and eventually gain a small degree of the commercial success they deserved but never courted. Kristin Hersh was troubled and tortured and whatever else it was that resulted in her making this extraordinary, intense record. "I feel boxed in / Think I'll be alright" she offers unconvincingly in Vicky's Box. Thankfully she was and still is, but god knows it wasn't exactly easy. Neither is listening to this record.

From Inside The Pod Revisited #2

So here's another old Podcast from my previous blog. This one dates from November 2011 (hence its title) and the artwork features a view of Newport in the rain. Apparently. Nothing has been re-written, it is exactly as it originally appeared.


pod 21: Eleven/Eleven
(first published 18 November 2011)

After a flurry of themed pods, it's back to the randomness of normality. The long dark nights have drawn in, it's cold and wet outside, and to make it worse, it's nearly Christmas!

I've pieced together an assortment of tunes to put some colour into your November drabness (for half-hour, at least). 

A double-bill for December is being lined up, featuring some of my fave records of the year. In the meantime, feast on this little beauty, which contains a sample of the delights I've been feeding my head in recent weeks.

1. Stereolab Lo Boob Oscillator (part 1) [1993, single]

JC over at The Vinyl Villain recently posted an old TV clip of Stereolab performing their best-known track 'French Disko'. I was never a big fan, but this made me go back and re-evaluate their work. In doing so I discovered the magnificent European-retro sound of 'Lo Boob Oscillator' and liked it very muchly.

2. Bruce Springsteen Born In The USA [Nebraska demo] [1982, Lost Masters 1: Alone in Colts Neck (bootleg)]

Bit of a surprise inclusion? Possibly, but it can't be much of a shock to learn that my favourite Springsteen album by far is Nebraska, with its stripped-down, back-to-basics maudlin folk sound. 'Born In The USA', his biting critique on the isolation and poor treatment Vietnam vets faced on their return home, was originally written for Nebraska. It was passed over and ended up, in a completely different form, becoming the title track for The Boss' next album. Here though, you can hear the anguish and the desolation.

3. Cambodian Space Project Mean Visa Kmean Bai [2011, 2011: A Space Odyssey]

I've featured music from all over the world on this blog, but this is the first from Cambodia. It has taken a little while for the country to rediscover its culture since the atrocities of the Khmer Rouge which murdered its musicians and artists. During the 60s, it had a thriving rock & roll scene. Last year, the Cambodian Space Project became the first Cambodian act to release a single since 1975 (the year Pol Pot came to power). Having toured the world this year to rave reviews, expect to hear a lot more from them in the future.  The title of the song translates as 'Have Visa, No Have Rice'.

4. Sheepdogs Hang On To Yourself [2007, Trying To Grow]

I have our friend Sean in Thunder Bay, Ontario to thank for this. He recently sent me a mammoth playlist (that I still haven't got through) which included a track by the Sheepdogs. I'm a sucker for some good old country-tinged rock 'n' roll so naturally I loved it. Like the Kings of Leon did in their early days, the Sheepdogs sound as if they should have been around in the early 70s mixing it with the likes of Gram Parsons, Lynyrd Skynyrd and The Band. Actually, they've only been around a few years, this track featuring on their debut album.

5. U-Roy Chalice In The Palace [1975, Dread In A Babylon]

I said last time out that there was a distinct lack of reggae here at FItP, so this is the first step towards fixing that. I should perhaps have left this for the Queen's diamond jubilee next year. I can't think of many better sights than Her Maj sharing a fat reefer with The Originator (aka: toasting legend U-Roy).

"One is totally wasted, mon...", she slurred to her favourite corgi as she took a final puff of the enormous spliff and handed it to an equally stoned Duke of Edinburgh...

6. Dead Can Dance Fortune Presents Gifts Not According to The Book [1990, Aion]

I didn't get Dead Can Dance at first, but then being a mere 20 years old just as grunge was exploding, that's perhaps understandable. But late one night (or more likely early one morning), in a dimly lit room at the end of a house party, someone put 'Aion' on the turntable and it suddenly made complete sense. This track in particular continues to stand out, its lyrics having been penned by Spanish Renaissance poet Luis De Góngora. I suppose in less poetic language, it's all about 'sod's law'!

7. Throwing Muses Shark [1996, Limbo]

The utter genius that is Kristin Hersh recently came to Cardiff with Throwing Muses, their first tour in too many years. And I missed it! Couldn't go. Gutted! Have to make do with the wonderful memories I have of the classic Muses line-up supporting R.E.M. in London in 1989, blowing the several hundred people there present into the middle of the following week! *sob* Life can be so cruel. While nothing can quite make up for this terrible injustice, I'm including this amazing track which was strangely omitted from the band's recent self-compiled 'Anthology' (out now!)

8.Leadbelly Birmingham Jail [1948, Leadbelly's Last Sessions]

Why can't people tell stories anymore? Or at least, why can't anyone tell a story like Leadbelly? His songs have endured for 60, 70, 80 years or more, and this one, his variation of the traditional American folk song 'Down In The Valley', is one of my favourites. It was one of his last ever recordings, sadly passing away the following year.

9. Helen Love So Hot [1994, Summer Pop Punk Pop EP]

Perhaps only Shonen Knife can rival Swansea's Helen Love as the band that most worships, and wants to be, the Ramones. 'Da Brudders' influence is so great, they are frequently referred to in the Welsh combo's song titles and lyrics, and the trademark catchy, often very short blasts of punk-pop are uncanny. Joey Ramone even guested on one of their early singles! Sadly, "Hey ho, gadewch i ni fynd" doesn't have quite the same ring to it...

10. Jeffrey Lewis Gas Man [2007, 12 Crass Songs]

It's been kind of cool to like Jeffrey Lewis for a while. Hugely prolific (16 albums/EPs in 14 years, many of them lo-budget, self-released affairs), he's beginning to become more and more popular with every new release. Which most likely means he's no longer cool, of course... He has also written and illustrated his own series' of comic books. This song is possibly one of his most angry, but eerily poignant still.

November spawned a podcast - download it here!

Memories of a thousand* gigs #20

(* probably not actually that many, but who’s counting?)

#20: R.E.M.

Wembley Arena, London – 22nd June 1989
Support: Throwing Muses
Also in attendance: Wayne

 

I had the enormous privilege of seeing R.E.M. three times and each occasion has its significance. The latter two occasions were with Mrs Robster; at Cardiff Arms Park in 1995 and Earl’s Court in 1999. I've already described the significance of that Cardiff show which took place as part of the Monster tour. My first time took place some six years previous during the 'Green'  tour. Between the two occasions, R.E.M. had released three albums and become unlikely global megastars. But even by 1989 R.E.M. was an established and well-renowned act whose live shows were always a big draw. They had released their sixth album Green, their major label debut, the previous summer and I resolved to see them on their biggest tour to date.

Quite why I opted for Wembley Arena I couldn’t say. The tour included dates in Birmingham and Newport, both closer and easier to get to from Devon, but I suppose the idea of a trip to London was too good to resist. Needless to say Wayne accompanied me and we arranged to stay with family friends to set our parents’ minds at rest. We were both still just 17 and from a small, quiet little market town in the West Country – travelling up to the big smoke was a proper event!

In preparation, I familiarised myself with the support act Throwing Muses. They had just released their third album ‘Hunkpapa’ and the single Dizzy was riding high in the indie charts. I thought they were a country rock band; musically that is what the record seemed to indicate. But there was something starkly different about Throwing Muses, and it was immediately identifiable in the eccentric voice of Kristin Hersh. I figured they would be a pretty decent support band. Turns out that was understatement of the year!

Wembley Arena is a crap venue for rock concerts. OK, so most arenas are pretty awful, but Wembley is one of the worst I've been to. Acoustically it sucks. The sound just goes up and up and never reverberates beyond the centre of the seated area. Our tickets were also, unfortunately, for the seated area. I hate seats at gigs, there’s no way you can get into a show if you’re sat down. At least, not at a ‘normal’ show.

All this paled into insignificance when Throwing Muses arrived though. I don't remember exactly what they played, but I do recall a ferocious noise. Not a cacophony, but a barrage of sound that belied the sight on stage. I sat there in stunned silence for 40-or-so minutes just completely staggered at the sheer power echoing around this vast space. Kristin Hersh, a young, blonde, incredibly cute singer, sounded as though she was going through some kind of psychotic episode; having a fit, screaming, growling... This was no country rock band, this was almost indescribable, devoid of genre. Maniacal, wild, uncontrollable. Of course, it’s been well documented that Kristin Hersh’s music, particularly in the early days of Throwing Muses, was inspired – dictated, even – by her mental illness. Experiencing her live, you have to admire her battle to get through whatever it was making her do, while perversely feeling rather pleased at the resulting assault on one’s senses. The intensity I felt in that short support-band slot still makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up when I think about it. When they finished, I turned to Wayne, still shellshocked by what I had just experienced, and said: "R.E.M. will have to do bloody well to match that."

Throwing Muses remain one of the top three support bands I’ve ever seen. Had it been in a better (smaller) venue, they’d probably top the chart hands down.

If one band could meet the standards expected of them after that opening, it was R.E.M. Even in such a crappy large venue they could draw the crowd in and make it an intimate theatrical experience. Of course, it was Michael Stipe who stole the show. His long narrow pigtail flicked around throughout, his dark eye make-up made him look even more mysterious and enigmatic than the persona he had built up. And boy could he hold an audience rapt. As an intro to World Leader Pretend, he sang a few lines from Gang Of Four’s We Live As We Dream, Alone acapella while hitting a chair with a drumstick. He sang Orange Crush through a megaphone. He told stories, he danced, he damn well ran the show.

Much has been made of R.E.M.’s performances during the Green tour, and rightly so. It was unlike any other show I’ve ever seen. The ‘Tourfilm’ video which followed has long been hailed as one of the best concert movies ever made – along with Talking Heads’ ‘Stop Making Sense’ – yet as awesome as it was (and still is), it could never fully capture the experience of actually seeing R.E.M. at their absolute peak in terms of live performance.

My other two R.E.M. shows were at even bigger venues, but I managed to get much, much nearer the front. As expected, the band was amazing, although they were now augmented by other musicians; Stipe was on top form at both. For me though, the Green Tour show was the definitive one.

Soundtrack:

• Say Goodbye [live] - Throwing Muses (from 'Glastonbury 1989')
• World Leader Pretend [live] - R.E.M. (intro: We Live As We Dream, Alone originally by Gang Of Four) (from 'Tourfilm')
• Turn You Inside-Out [live] - R.E.M. (from 'Tourfilm')