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 DlSicORDER
7A guide to CITR fm 102 Why
live minutes of my time" is how Art
Bergmann describes "Hawaii," the underground hit he wrote while in the Young
Canadians. Those five minutes have hounded
him since. Like the time in 1983 when Bergmann
was onstage with Los Popularos at UBC: some
rabid drunk, recognizing Art from the YCs,
spent an hour howling at the top of his lungs,
"Young Canadians ... fuckin' Hawaii .. play
fuckin' Hawaii ... leschogo to fuckin' Hawaii-i"
"It bothers me," says Bergmann, "because I
think I've written a lot better songs than that.
Not just that, but that EP sold about 5,000
copies, and I never saw a cent of it. The guy who
owned Quintessence must have ... no, I better
not say that. I don't need a lawsuit."
It would be easy to accuse Bergmann of being
ungrateful for past success, but he has a point:
he has written better songs, and none have
received the attention given "Hawaii." After
seven years and four records with three different
bands, he's in the unenviable position of being,
as one wit put it, "a semi-legendary folk hero of
the Vancouver alternative music scene.''
Roughly translated, that means that while
there may be a loyal audience who will look
forward to hearing the songs he's recorded with
his new band Poisoned, there are a great many
more people out there who will, at least for now,
continue to say, "Oh, yeah ... Art Bergmann ...
wasn't he the guy? ... yeah, let's go to fuckin'
Hawai-i-i-"
It shouldn't happen that way, and maybe it
won't. The songs Bergmann's recorded with
Poisoned are as good as anything that has come
out of Vancouver: sophisticated, well-crafted
songs that still have a raw edge. Bergmann's
voice cuts through with emotion and intensity, a
mixture of sincerity and cynicism. The tapes
have a lot of people saying that this could be the
big break for Art Bergmann, the one that brings
him to a big audience.
Bergmann is more cautious. "Could be, could
be; right now, we're still underground. I mean, I
always think that a new band is going to be the
one that makes it. You might say I never let my
dreams die."
Looking back on his career, it's easy to
understand the guarded optimism. Great things
have been predicted for Art Bergmann, and not
without basis. But in the end, something always
seems to go wrong, and the prophecy and the
potential remain unfulfilled.
The Shmorgs were the first Bergmann-led
band to make it to vinyl, with a record released
on their own Stray label in early 1978.
"That was a bunch of guys from White Rock
and Surrey. We started out as a really basic
three-chord rock 'n roll and went on from there
as I learned to write songs. We went through a
bunch of different lineups, and I ended up doing
all the writing for the band, which was a real
burden. And then we were stupid enough to put
out a record.'' The LP, simply entitled Shmorgs,
is an uneven, but nonetheless interesting,
record that, despite Bergmann's disclaimer, is
well worth looking for. Considering how the
album sold, however, the Bergmann basement
might be a good place to start your search.
After the Shmorgs, Bergmann went on to form
the K-Tels with Jim Bescott and Barry Taylor.
K-Tel International was not amused: the people
who brought you Veg-A-Matic and Myron
Florens' Greatest Hits threatened legal action,
and the band was renamed the Young Canadians.
It was with the Young Canadians that
Bergmann came closest to success. The band
released two excellent EPs (including that "five
minutes of my time" that continues to plague
Bergmann), toured with the Boomtown Rats,
and collected impressive notices and fans across
North America.
Yet for all their apparent success, the Young
Canadians remained an    underground    band;
    , Disorder 4uly19«4,
This
Man
a
Star?
CD Gets
POISONED
Isn't
radio ignored them, as did the big record
companies. As with any other underground"
act in the mass-media world of North America,
they reached a point where they had to break
into the mainstream or break up.
"It was time for a change," is Bergmann's
reply to queries about the split. "Besides, we
weren't big enough. I like to work in a band, a
situation where there's a lot of creative argument going on. Maybe that's my problem. But
the Young Canadians were just too small for us
to rub off on each other.''
He got the band he wanted soon after,
forming what was unfortunately described as
"Vancouver's first punk super-group:" Los
Popularos.
The band first emerged as a "fuck band" on
the Bud Luxford compilation and featured Gord
Nicholl and Tony Bardach (ex-Pointed Sticks),
Buck Cherry (ex-Modernettes), Zippy Pinhead
(ex-Dils), and Bill Shirt (ex-Active Dog), along
with Bergmann. Originally dubbed Los Radicos
Popularos, the band played for the hell of it,
more often than not for free.
The "Radicos" was dropped when the band
became a serious project. Burdened by inflated
expectations, the band almost didn't survive
their first tour. Cherry left, and the band laid low
long enough to shed the ludicrous "supergroup" tag and coalesce into a pretty decent pop
band. Los Pops managed to put out a moderately
interesting single and an EP, Born F.ree , which,
although spoiled by muddy production, showcased Bergmann, Shirt and Nicholl as talented
and capable tunesmiths.
"Like all great bands, we were really awful
sometimes," says Bergmann of Los Popularos.
"In the end we broke up because we couldn't
record anymore. We'd signed a three year
contract with these people, and after Born Free
didn't make them a million bucks, they decided
that they wouldn't give us any more money to
record, but they wouldn't release us from our
contract. And you can only play live without a
record for so long before you end up banging
your head against the wall. So we wrote them
letters, which got no answers. Finally, we just
decided to call it quits. But I still get together
with Bill and Gord to write the occasional pop
tune about sex, death and religion."
Which brings us, and Art, to the present, and
Poisoned. Bergmann is back up front, singing
his own songs, supported by a band made up of
Ted Rich, Fred Hamilton and Taylor Nelson-
Little (all of whom most recently appeared with
Psychic Healers) and Murray Anderchak. He's
recorded 10 songs for a demo tape (three of
which can be heard on CITR) and is planning to
play around Vancouver as a prelude to taking
another grab at the gold (maybe brass?) ring.
There are a lot of people pulling for
Bergmann, a lot Of people saying that Poisoned
is 'the one. Anticipation is in the air, inflating
expectations once again. We'll have to wait and
see if Poisoned can avoid the pitfalls Bergmann's other bands have encountered. Bergmann seems to be taking it pretty much in
stride.
"I don't know. I just want to get back to
playing live and then do some recording in a
24-track; then we'll see what happens. It's tough
to get back to being the focus of a band, singing
and so on. It's a lot easier just staying in the
back playing guitar and doing backups. But
yeah, we'll see what happens ..."
And, if it happens, maybe Art Bergmann can
leave that particular five minutes of his time
behind and say once and for all - "Fuck
Hawaii."
-CD
Poisoned will be appearing July 20th with the
Actionauts aboard the good ship ' 'Hollyburn'' in
yet another Boating with Bud extravaganza.
[You owe me one, Luxford. ] Discorder July 1984 Discorder July 1984
/=£>
CinnFtDiSfcORDER
fmlQ2 Cable 100 July 1984 Vol. 2 No. 6
DISCORDER is a monthly paper published by the Student Radio
Society of the University of British Columbia. DISCORDER provides a
guide to CITR Radio, which broadcasts throughout the Vancouver area at
FM 101.9.
CITR transmits its 49 watt signal from Gage Towers on the UBC
Campus. For best reception be sure and have an antenna attached to
your receiver. For those of you with persistent reception problems, CITR
is also available on FM cable at 100.1 in Vancouver, West Vancouver,
Norifi Vancouver, Burnaby, Rjchmond, Coquitlam, Port Coquitlam,
Maple Ridge and Mission.
DISCORDER is distributed throughout the Vancouver area. Enquiries
aoou. advertising in DISCORDER or distributing free copies of
DISCORDER a; a new location can be made by calling 228-3017. General
CITR business enquiries or information about renting the CITR Mobile
Sound System is also available at 228-3017. The request line is 228-2487
or 223-CITR.
Contributors:   Steve  Robertson
Mike  Dannls,
Jim   Main
RobSimms
Gordon  Badanic
Michael Shea
Larry  Thiessen
Fiona   Mackay
Dave Jacklin
Jim Main
Alex Waterhouse
Hayward
Chris Dafoe
John Giles
Dave Ball
like Mines
Distribution:
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 Harry Hertscheg
free   at    these  locations
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oK-HftAfc
c/o CITR Radio
Vancouver, B.C.
6138 S.U.B. Blvd.
V6T 2A5
Dear Airhead,
First of all, I'd like to
dedicate the entire playlist
show to a dear friend (whom
I'll call Mr. E), because at the
present time he can't p!ck it
up on his receiver, and he just
doesn't know what he's missing.
Secondly, after reading
Tom Harrison's many reviews
and listening to his silly pubescent voice on "Soundproof" ... I think you should
continue your ''Sneer of the
Month" episodes and throw
his pitiful face in it. For
"Occupation," you can fill in
"Superficial Suckwinder" and
for "Likes," "Only his own
taste in music."
I've got to hand it to that
Jason Grant fellow. Before
reading the write-up in the
Sun, I had no idea he was so
young, yet he's brilliant, very
literate, and dedicated to
CITR. His reviews and random notes top Harrison's any
day. I'm impressed.
Regards,
Anacin
P.S. - I noticed the address
for information on Jonathan
Richman printed up in a previous issue of Discorder. Do
you happen to have one for
The Cure?
Take it easy on poor Tom. It
can't be easy writing for the
ugliest newspaper in Canada.
For information on The Cure
write: P.O. Box 2al
London, England
W.la 1al
Dear Airhead,
Who is this Sukhvinder
Johal, hater of all he does not
understand? In his interview,
turned editorial, with Linton
Kwesi Johnson, I was disgusted to read his needless views
on Rastafari. Does Sukhvinder
really believe that the Rasta-
influenced reggae does not
make political statements?
I was also shocked to be
called naive and myopic by
someone who does not know
Rasta or the beneficial effects
the Rastafarian lifestyle has
had on countless non-Rastas.
Rastafari is not only the following of an Ethiopian king,
but a complex and caring
lifestyle.
Please, in the future, stick
to the facts, and if you feel it
and know it, only then say it,
because such prejudice is
really the root of the world's
troubles.
Now look here Praises, ol'
chap, it'd be all too easy for I &
I to get into a theological discussion in these columns. I
mean, it's hard to actually
discuss religion with a zealot
(ask the Sikhs and Hindus in India, ask the Catholics and Protestants in Ulster)! Suffice to
say that apart from 'myopic'
and 'naive,' which, I'll be the
first to admit, are merely my
opinions, the rest of that paragraph is true: I did 'stick to the
facts.' By the way, what's more
the root of the world's troubles:
a questioning analysis like mine
or religious zealousness like
yours? (Clue: You may find the
answer in LKJ's Age of Reality
off Forces of Victory.)
—SJ
MOBILE
SOUND
228-3017
/'/GRILL
1/QAiLepiii/cA dtol'Caur&u'tfrj£„
'fecduutr/Aj meujuxfe qriUtA teyuwU
ousuie^ <ud- (M'frriuk-iti/Ie beftntfes.
3 20 4 w. broadway 736-8481 Discorder July 1984
</>
Imagine it.
You're in a hot, sweaty little
basement closet with about 100
other people. You forget what
this club's name is, but it
doesn't matter because, aside
from the fact that bands play
here from time to time, there is
nothing here to suggest that
this place keeps regular hours.
The decor is decidedly concrete. There's warm beer for
sale until it runs out or the cops
arrive. You sip your tepid brew
and hope the band will be good,
all the while remembering that
you missed The Darby Crash
Home Movie Festival to be
here. You've heard that these
Minutemen are good. Good and
hardcore! The lights go down
and bodies start nudging toward the stage. Three rather
nondescript fellows walk on, two
of whom are rather large. They
must be the road crew or something. You don't have a chance
to conjecture any further... The
Minutemen have launched their
mutant punk funk barrage.
The best bands are always
the most difficult to pin down
with labels. The Minutemen are
widely regarded as part of the
California hardcore music
scene. It is true that the band is
from San Pedro, California (or
"Peedro," as they like to call
it), but in terms of their music,
"hardcore" is a bit of a misnomer. White funk on fast dope
might be a better description of
a typical Minuteman song.
Breakneck quasi-funk rhythms
with jagged shards of sharp,
trebly guitar jumping in and out
like a sing-stringed pogo stick;
short, intense and to the point.
The Minutemen are D. Boon
on guitar and vocals, Mike Watt
on bass and vocals and George
Hurley on drums. Boon and
Watt started playing together
some 12 years ago and eventually formed a band called the
Reactionaries. "When we were
just starting out, we couldn't
really play. I learned guitar by
listening to CCR, Black Sabbath
and Blue Oyster Cult," says
Mike Watt. According to Watt,
the Reactionaries was just
speeded up rock and roll influenced by Sex Pistols, Clash and
Jam. "We never knew you
could write your own songs. We
thought we were too lame."
The band only lasted for eight
months.
It was January, 1980, when
Boon and Watt formed the
Minutemen. "We wanted to
get rid of a lot of the standard
3
•
■A HAPPY PERSON         ^ ^
fl^v                                              ■
- -. V „ 1
rock trappings, so we stripped
the songs down to the bare
bones." Watt cites Wire, The
Pop Group and Captain Beef-
heart as primary Minutemen
influences. "When I first heard
The Pop Group, I was really
floored. Here were these guys
playing this kind of funk stuff
that sounded really white. I
didn't know that that kind of
music existed." Boon and Watt
jammed without a drummer
for a short time before recruiting George Hurley, who had
played with them before in the
Reactionaries. Since 1980, they
have released numerous discs,
including the highly acclaimed
LP What Makes a Man Start
Fires? Although Watt is the
principal songwriter, all three
contribute tunes. "Soon we're
going to be releasing a double
album," says Watt, "45 songs
in 35 minutes. We figured that,
just for fun, we'd intersperse it
all with car noises. None of the
songs are about cars, though."
The band are planning extensive touring of North America
over the next few months. Last
year they supported Black Flag
on a European tour and came
away rather disillusioned by the
British hardcore scene.
"They're very conservative
over there. The crowd was
strictly black leather and porcupine hair. They didn't know
what the hell to make of us, that
sort of thing. I think that if we'd
looked like them, we'd have
had half the battle won."
If you don't like hardcore,
that does not necessarily mean
you won't like the Minutemen.
They play hard and fast, but it's
not thrash like so much British
and American hardcore these
days. They'll be appearing in
Vancouver on Friday, July 6 at
the Waterfront. Tickets are
available at Zulu, Odyssey and
Collectors' RPM. If you've
never heard the Minutemen,
phone 228-CITR and say "I
wanna hear about five Minutemen songs" (since most of their
songs average about one
minute in length, such a request probably wouldn't be
deemed excessive) or, better
yet, catch them live. I hear
they're devastating. Just like
the missile.
\   j    /\
. \> J!
Radio
Wants
Remember how much you
HATED Boy Scouts? Dib dib
and all that stuff. Or Girl
Guides? Or any of those clubs
your parents MADE you join?
"It's good for you," they said,
right? "You'll learn something," right?
CITR isn't like those clubs.
It's not good for you at all. In
fact, joining CITR will do absolutely nothing for you, except
increase your capacities for abnormal behavior, expand your
musical tastes and knowledge
and -oh, here it comes, right?--
Hell
You
you can learn something.
About radio, and how it works.
And --put down that knife,
Earl- you could get involved in
on-air work.
Interested? Fill out and mail
in this membership application.
Summer membership fees are
$10.00 for UBC students,
$12.50 for others, until September. And you don't have to be a
UBC student to join.
But -- when you do join, don't
tell your parents. This is one
club they won't want you to
join.
Membership
Application
NAME '_ AGE	
ADDRESS	
POSTAL CODE PHONE	
STUDENT? Y N      UBCSTUDENT	
I'M    INTERESTED    IN        SENDTO:
PROGRAMMING.    TELL       CITR RADIO
ME MORE.  6138SUB BLVD., UBC
VANCOUVER, B.C.
V6T 2A5 Discorder July 1984
J,rr) MQil Discorder July 1984
Vinyl
***¥¥***¥*¥
4¥¥*¥¥^¥4^¥*^*¥
Verdict
You may often wonder why
CITR never reviews local demo
tapes in DISCORDER. Well,
wonder no more, for in this
issue we take a look at 15 songs
by seven local artists. Although
this reviewer readily admits
having a strong bias towards
music with fast, driving guitars
and machine gun drumming
(i.e., The Enigmas), the music
reviewed here shows, in places,
certain songwriting ability,
well-crafted textures, and
promises much listening enjoyment. (But then again, other
bits are kinda dull.)
• ••••
The two most upbeat demos
are those by the Mike Club and
Procedures   For  Approval,   or
P.P.A. for short.
P.F.A.'s two songs, "Decadence" and "Waiting for the
Wind to Blow" are very reminiscent of early stripped down
versions of Ultravox or Simple
Minds, with not quite as much
drive (perhaps due only to the
stark production). Both songs
are melodic, with emphasis on
catchy rhythm hooks. Hopefully, the band will continue to
record.
The Mike Club's two songs
revolve around Rachael Melas'
brilliant basslines and Michaela
Arrichello's effervescent
vocals. The heavy bass/drum
funk rhythms in both "Riff
Rapp" and "My Dream" establish a fluid tempo, with the
squeaky-high rapping phrased
around and around the twisting
synchopations. Very good.
major record deal. With at least
one company sniffing now, we
can only cross our fingers and
hope the Actionauts get what
they want.
"Down at the Beach" by the
Sound Surfers is a somewhat
slowish, typical melody with
fairly standard arrangement
and delivery. The playing and
production are up to stratch,
but the band's songwriting ability seems below their playing
ability. At this point the best
thing about the Sound Surfers
is still their name.
The last two artists, Emily
and Family Plot, have both put
out their current material as
cassette-only, limited edition
releases. The tapes are available at most independent record shops (like Zulu).
Family Plot is Madelaine
Morris (ex-MOEV) on vocals,
and the Addington clan (ex-
Insex) on drums, synth and two
basses. Their four-song tape
was recently recorded on a
4-track porta-studio, but the
sound does not suffer for the
lack of heaps of technology.
There are three slower paced
songs, and the sinister "Grave-
digger," which made it to the
CITR Top 5 a few weeks ago. If
you liked Madelaine's vocals
when she sang with MOEV,
combined with the sound of The
Cure circa "Pornography,"
you'll love this.
Hiroshi Yano's "House" and
"Step Down" are both finely
structured instrumentals which
(strangely enough) seem too
short. Just as one is beginning
to relax to these slow, layered
mood pieces, they rather
abruptly fade out, leaving the
listener definitely wanting
more.
"Bushwacked," by the Actionauts, although by no means
a monster master rockin' tune
like their previous "Hash Assassin," is nevertheless a fine
mid-tempo pop song. The
overly slick production is a
deliberate attempt at getting a
Emily's three songs on the
CITR playlist ("My Wife, She
Married a Butcher," "Doomed
to Fail," and "I've Got a Steel
Bar in My Head") are all from
her recent cassette release on
the MO-DA-MU label. Drum
machines and layer upon layer
of synth programs are used to
weave a rich, pulsing sound
that rolls along. "Steel Bar" is
the catchiest of the songs, but
"Doomed to Fail" is my personal favorite. Eerie, macabre,
stylish, but neither shallow nor
detached. Dare I say it? This is
synth with guts. Recommended.
--Gordon Badanic
Lou Reed resurfaced recently
to speak about his latest release, New Sensations. During
the course of the conversation
we covered music, love, politics, New York, and various
other subjects. It was only later
when transcribing the interview
that I realized that all of Lou's
responses were culled directly
from the lyrics of his new
album.
Discorder: The new album is a
real   comeback   for   you.   Did
anything in particular prompt
this resurgence?
Lou Reed: The President called
me to give me the news/I've
been awarded the Nobel Prize
in   rhythm   and   blues,/   and
Stevie Wonder wants to record
one of my songs.
D: That's quite interesting,
about the President and all.
LR:  Don't want to talk about
politics today,/I feel too good,
let me have my way.
D: All right, let's talk music,
then. Have you been keeping
track of the "New Music?"
LR: There's not too much you
hear on the radio today.
D: Very true. New Sensations is
very basic compared to some of
the   current   over-produced
songs on the radio.
LR: I really hope you like it, it
isn't very long./It's rooted  in
the  '50s,   but   it's   heart's   in
1984.
D: Is there an overall theme to
the album?
LR: It reminds me of the movies
Marty made about New York/
Those frank and brutal movies
that are so brilliant/They're
very inspirational, I love the
thing they do.
D:  New York:  the most dan
gerous city in the world and
damn proud of it.
LR: I got my Mace and you got
yours/You gotta protect your
own life.
D: Do you still hang out there?
LR: The other night we went to
see Sam's play/ It was very
physical; it held you to the
stage/ Here's to Travis Bickle
and here's to Johnny Boy/
Growing up in the mean streets
of New York.
D: Sounds like you're mellowing. Where do you stand on
nuclear arms?
LR: I would not run from the
holocaust/1 would not run from
the bomb/I'd welcome the
chance to meet my maker/and
fly into the sun.
D: Any last words?
LR: When it's all too much you
turn the TVset on/and light a
cigarette/Then a Public Service
Announcement/Come creeping
on./You see a lung corroding/
Or a fatal heart attack? Turn to
me. Turn to me, turn to me.
-Jim Main
^^Bom^rTugga^hugga^onk
chomp-wizzle wizzle-womp ...
speed it up, slow it down, spin
it around, throw it up ... nonstop dancing, a little head bashing to the side and oh, so cool.
Jam Science is 40 minutes of
repetitive concrete bunker beat
... slap it on and practise the
latest groove moves and don't
worry about sweat collecting on
your brow -- like the weather,
this record is cool and dry,
Subtle variations in tempol
abound, but not enough to
distinguish any one track re-j
markably from the next. The!
vocals breathe heavily up front,
driven by an understated bass
score and the pervasive bunker
beat. Shriekback may have lost
the shriek that gave them an
interesting edge on their first
imported release, Tench, but
they can still weave a seductive
musical maze.
Shriekback
Jam Science
To cop a quote from Aaron
Copland: "The simplest way of
listening to music is to listen fof
the sheer pleasure of the musical sound itself -- that is the,
sensual plane." With that
mind, pick up a copy of Jam
Science and let your body do
the thinking.
-Michael Shea
Two years ago amid an unusually hot summer in England,
Shriekback released their first
single, "Sexthinkone." It
sounded like its title -- provocative, sinuous and insinuating,
alluring and slightly dfsturbing.
/ Now, the summer of 1984, and
' the group, primarily composed
of Barry Andrews, Dave Allen
and Carl Marsh, have finished
recording their, second long-
playing disc to date, Jam Science. The weather forecast:
cool and dry.
While Jam Science may
sound so contrived that it could
have been composed by a computer program, Shriekback
once again succeeds in constructing a textural aural
sculpture (sorry, Hugh) that
adds depth to the rigid melodic
formula they have confined
themselves to. The lyrics are
suitably arcane, but who is
going to spend the time to
decipher their cryptic messages
while sliding on the dance floor
anyway? After listening to the
album several times, I can think
of only two conclusions ~ either
Shriekback has fallen prey to
the easy allure of the electronic
white funk that left Cabaret
Voltaire wailing in the wings
OR they have recorded THE
dance disc of 1984.
PAGE 6 Nocturnal
Emissions
Crowning
in a
Sea of Bliss
Does anyone remember the
movie "Fantastic Voyage?"
You know, the one in which
Raquel Welch, Donald Pleas-
ance and the other human
microbes are injected into an
ailing scientists's body and subsequently do battle against all
sorts of antibodies, organs and
other resident bile before taking on the ultimate inner space
foe, the big bad brain tumor? If
you do, you'll probably agree
that it is the all-time greatest
-if not the only- B-grade bio-
anatomical thriller.
We know that poor Donald
loses his life at the hands (?) of
a massive white corpuscle, but
one has to wonder at the sequels that might have been
spawned had Raquel & Co.
foregone that teardrop of deliverance and set up a household
inside Dr. Banish's carcass —
"East of Intestine" or perhaps
"Indiana Jones and the Orifice
of Doom?" Any filmmaker with
enough guts (sorry) to undertake such a project would find
himself with a ready made
soundtrack in Nocturnal Emissions'   "Drowning in a Sea of
Discorder July 1984
Bliss," required listening for
pre-med students and a must
for all emetic fans.
To its credit, this marrow-
curdling record has tremendous
potential as a motivational tool.
It will certainly discourage
small children from putting foreign objects into their mouths.
Unwanted relatives overstaying
their welcome? Just slap Nocturnal Emissions onto the turntable, and they'll be waltzing
out the door before you can say
Pepto-Bismol. The fact that
"Drowning in a Sea of Bliss"
tends to evoke esophageal
imagery makes its extremely
dangerous listening for compulsive overeaters; "no brekky"
appears to be the central motif
here.
Hunger pangs and gastric
juices aside, there really isn't
that much happening on this
record. There's plenty of
rhythm, but it all reeks of
excessive technology; not that I
have anything against technology, it's just that so many
records of the "industrial"
genre are devoid of any human
element whatsoever. As Snake-
finger so succinctly puts it:
"The content gets lighter and
more superficial as the technology gets heavier and more predominant until we get to our
present situation, where technology is art and the artist just
the poor slob that pushes the
buttons." Anyone familiar with
Snakefinger's work on Ralph
Records knows that his attitude toward music is hardly
anti-progressive.
Speaking for myself,   I   find
' 'Drowning in a Sea of Bliss'' to
be a rather lazy record. There
are more than a few interesting
noises, but it doesn't sound like
much thought or inspiration
went into the album as a whole.
I can live quite comfortably
without this record, but, who
knows, it might be your cup of
bile. Just make sure you give it
a listen before you shell out the
measly arm and leg it's going to
cost you to own your own copy.
Technology doesn't come
cheap.
Steve Robertson
/
Nick Cave
and the
Bad Seeds
From Her
to Eternity
rom the wreckage ot the
Birthday Party, Nick Cave
emerges with his gothic horror
show intact, albeit much refined: from the Sex-Horror-Vamp-
ire-BIIITE of a Bram Stoker to
the oh-so-subtle terror of an
Isak Dinesen. As usual, Cave
delves into stuff we all would
rather not think about: death,
fear, desertion, loneliness; and,
for a change, he has his emotions barely under control, except for that incredible eruption
at just the right moment. Nick
admits to calculated excesses in
both singing and music in the
past, but this record is largely
free of them. This is not to say
that old Nick has wimped out;
From Her to Eternity will grip
your vitals until it hurts.
The Bad Seed's consist of
ex-B.P. drummer and guitarist
Mick Harvey, ex-Magazine bassist Barry Adamson, Blixa
Bargeld of Einstuerzende Neubaten on guitar, Hugo Race on
guitar, and Cave's paramour
Anita Lane on piano. They play
as well together as anyone
could in trying to interpret
tj Cave's baroque, dense mater-
Every song on this record has
j something going for it, mostly
in the effective interaction be- y,
tween the rhythm section (bass
and drums) and the guitar and
piano at the high end. Bar-
geld's and Race's guitar work is
at times understated, leaving
the rhythm section to carry the
feel of the song (as in "Avalanche"), and at times like a
buzzsaw. As with the Birthday
Party, the sound is usually
bottom heavy.
Nick's vocals are, at times, a
dissertation, and, at times, a
shamanistic chant. I don't claim
to understand everything in the
lyrics, so the readers will be
spared a literary analysis. A lot
of it is obscure, but I don't know
whether this obscurity is deliberate or the normal labyrinthine
product of Cave's bent mind.
The lyrics do, however, have an
unmistakable spiritual feel to
them, considering god (God),
spiritual passion, and the life
everlasting malevolently but
enviously. He won't be able to
have his true love love him on
"Wings Off Flies" until he
finds a one-winged fly. An
interesting predicament. \
' Altogether a twisted, bizarre, /
sick album, but an overpowering and compelling one. Great!
Bats Belfry
" '/
Legendary
Pink Dots
The Tower
People who expect to be
totally dumbfounded by anyone
with a name like The Legendary
Pink Dots should approach their
latest LP with less trepidation
than first reactions might indicate. The group makes wide use
of mechanical and electronic
gadgetry - each song immediately comes across as "really
different"— but everything
about the album is treated so
carefully that a first-time listener is struck by its intimacy
more than anything else.
There is nothing worse than
having someone sit you down in
the middle of a room, stick on
an unfamiliar record and say
"Listen to the WORDS!" or
"Ignore the electronic noise
and listen to the MELODY in
the TREBLE!" If one aspect of
a new musical encounter requires special emphasis in
order to be appreciated, other
facets are in danger of being
regarded as weakened. Artists
who try to incorporate MEANINGFUL prose into their music
often succeed only in appearing
maudlin or self-indulgent. The
Legendary Pink Dots have
avoided this situation. All the
lyrics are placed where they can
be understood perfectly; but
it's also possible to flow with
the mood set up by the music.
The use of violins and other
conventional instruments in
pre-set, classical forms lends an
exotic, slightly world-weary
appeal which is never allowed
to lapse into cornball. Just
when you're about to say, "Uh,
oh ... that sounds like early
Tuxedomoon" or "Hmmm ...
shades of Fad Gadget," some
subtle or not-so-subtle effect
interrupts your constant search
to find a slot for this album.
None of the cuts on the
"Tower" are harmless. Suicid
al tendencies abound; but by
underplaying the production
end and opting for a "small"
sound with relatively simple
mix-downs, the Dots have kept
from resembling something
from the distant psychedelic
world of early Pink Floyd and
other creative but prehistoric
giants of the early '70s.
Legendary Pink Dots will not
suit everyone's taste. They are
different. However, they are
not, despite their name, an
obscure band that some frustrated audiophile has dredged
out of self-imposed oblivion
solely to inflict some new
musical wound on a public
which it sometimes seems will
listen to anything while at other
times subsists on a diet of
commercial FM. Buy this
album. Listen to it alone. The
Legendary Pink Dots have
many things to tell you.
-Larry Thiessen
PAGE 7 Discorder July 1984
... more Vinyl
R.E.M.
Reckoning
Reckoning: aka File Undei
Water. The music of R.E.M.
has a rich and pastoral quality
about it which sets the record
apart from most others. Their
sound, though an amalgam of
so many recognizable elements
(from the Byrds to the Allman
Brothers) is, conversely, individual. The band itself is composed of a group of likeable,
hard working, thoughtful, sincere people. Yet the whole is
much more than the sum of the
parts. I could never confuse
R.E.M. or their music with any
other band. And so we encapsulate R.E.M. But there is also
more. There is, for instance,
Michael Stipe. And there is
Peter Buck. In a sense,
R.E.M.'s energy derives from
the contrast of these characters.
Stipe, of the mournful, almost
monochromatic, but expressive voice, is the lyricist. Stipe's
lyrics always touch me, but I
must admit: I don't know what
the hell he's on about. It seems
his lyrics vacillate (roughly)
between the extremes of emotional involvement: distance
and warmth, trust and mistrust, revelation and concealment. Stipe recently told of a
time when he would not allow
his songs to use "I" and "You"
— those were too personal.
Stipe's lyrics always deal with
the general and the ambiguous
and the abstract (for several
reasons):  a)  they  undergo an
Miles Davis
Decoy
and, it being his album, gives
himself space to develop a few
interesting solos: not great,
mind you, by his previous
standards, but at least they're
decent. Unfortunately, Miles
has also taken up the synthesizer along with his sideman/
co-producer Robert Irving III. It
sounds as if one of them is
chained to the controls at all
times, for synthesizer is everywhere. People should be issued
iicenses to use these things,
after they've passed a test that
keeps gratuitous noodling like
this in check. The problem with
"emotional editing" with the R.E.M. avoid being staid be-
rest of the band identifying cause they take a chance. Most
parts they don't like or suggest-bands don't take that chance
ing alternatives; b) Stipe wants with their second album,
his lyrics to be "emotionally R.E.M. do. They have consci-
true but yet leaving room for ously decided to move away
broad interpretation;" c) "at from the dense sound of their
the end of the day they are just first, Murmur. Instead, they
more pop songs." reveal their songs to a  much
Peter buck is the "rock" side greater extent, both lyrically
of things. He is the musical and musically. For R.E.M., this
historial and archivist. He is a extension and expansion re-
stage hound. He fires the band veals the depth of their writing
with the energy which has them and playing ability,
constantly touring, writing and R.E.M.'s Reckoning reflects
recording. It is his sense of the the growing maturity of a band,
past, balanced with Stipe's R.E.M. provide, for a second
idealism and freedom from the time, that rarest of albums: one
past which gives R.E.M. that which, in a subtle, almost sub-
wonderful sound: a sound that versive way, challenges the
is, at once, familiar and com- listener. Reckoning is for think-
forting yet involving and in- ing (interpreting as you will), or
ventive. for relaxing, or, further yet, for
The sound is composed of: a cleaning the house.  Put their
fluid   rhythm  section,   ringing stories,  however obtuse,  to
guitars, accents of piano, and good  (and varied) use.  There
splashed of  "other"  sound are few others so worthwhile,
which   occasionally,   fill   the
spaces. It is much much finer No. 1
and accessible pop music than
the appealing but staid likes of
Orange Juice, Big Country or
(more favorably) Aztec Camera ^^^^^^^^^^M
We've all heard the predictions that in 10 years time
technology will be an omnipresent force in our lives. Comput -
ers will be in every home and the synths as used here is that
office, regulating everything the intensity of single notes
that we do. There will be no doesn't vary; this flattens some
ion that a person in the beautiful sounds being produc-
°H    h"    tho    nthpr    musicians.
funct
Western   Wor.d   can   perform H**,-"
That's Right" has some lovely
trade-offs between Marsalis
without the aid, or interference,
of synthetic gimmickry. llaue"una uciv,com .».».—..-
It looks like a lot of people and guitarist John Scofield that
creating music these days settle down into a great blues
would like to herald in the age groove; what's stuck on top are
of technology right now. Count- synthesizer bits that to me have
less musicians have indulged in absolutely no purpose. I wanted
their own private techno-trips to take an icepick to the grooves
in the past couple of years and try t0 Peel those bits right
(need I name names?); their off- '* happens again and again
success in the use of synthesiz- on Decoy's seven tracks, and
ed instruments has depended it's frustrating as hell.
as much on their attitude to- N°t only is it annoying to try
ward the synthesizer's place in to listen to Decoy closely, as
music as on their technical one w°uld a jazz album, it
ability in playing it. doesn't   work  as   funk   music
Miles Davis has entered the either; it simply doesn't move.
techno-camp as well on his last The on|y Place I would listen to
few LPs; Decoy reveals that a record llke this is driving
he's stuck firmly in those around in a car, like so much
chrome-lined trenches. Using a otner cow fodder music. That's
few funk musicians (on this a shame, 'cause the players on
record Darryl Jones is on bass; Decoy could be capable of
Marcus Miller has appeared in something so much better,
the past) and a few people who Fiona MacKay
have real potential as jazz players (e.g., Bill Evans and Bran-
ford Marsalis on soprano saxes), Davis has put together
songs with such titles as "Robot 415" and "Code M.D."
Miles plays trumpet, of course, Discorder July 1984
lftiH»*1*g,
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VSfeg»-;3^S8aei
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fcandmaior >a^T                0a,             ^                e-l
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pirate's delight with:
Fly by Night
T     H     E     A     T      r"1
by Christopher Durang
BEYOND
OPENS
JULY     4
NCOUVER    EAST
LTURAL    CENTRE
895   VENABLES   ST
NDRES     254-957
PERSUASIONS
DISCOGRAPHY
Acapella,   1967,    Reprise   Re-   I Just Want to Sing with    My
cords (RS 6394 Straight), out       Friends,   A&M    Records
of print (MCA 3656), out of print
We Came  to  Play,   1971   and   Chirpin', 1976, Elektra/Asylum
1975,   Capitol   Records   (ST       Records (1099)
79andSM791)
Street Corner Symphony, 1972,
Capitol Records (ST 872)
Spread the Word, 1972, Capitol
Comin' At Ya, 1979, Flying
Fish Records (FF093) (Flying
Fish, 1304 W. Schubert, Chicago, IL 60614)
Records  (ST 11101),  out  of  Good  News,   1980,   Rounder
Records
Just Us, 1984, Rounder Records
(3083) (Rounder Records, 186
Willow Ave., Somerville, MA
02144)
Records (MCA 3635), out of   m town, records by The Persua-
Pnr|t sions can be found at Scorpio,
Highlife and Black Swan.
print  	
We Still Ain't Got No Band,'
1973, A&M Records (MCA
326), out of print
More Than   Before,   A&M
 TWl place -to eppetfteuAeppededl
vWcauvVs miUj "Btj Mmo> ^ ujltffilub -
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fS^T^eW i(ecu& €\lt, eVe«a| ruqUT. CreaJtuie.
TXvW^ fr<nfK (cxt/e bars	
125 5w.pender 681-5201 Discorder July 1984
The Hot Air Show Returns
EXPOSE
YOUR
Every Monday Nite
at the Savoy in Gastown
Sept. 10 to Dec. 17
you can WIN
recording time or equipment
Bands may apply NOW at CITR
228-3017
MOBILE
SOUND
SYSTEM
For any^event call
228-3017
50 Most PJpyf^y
Bonds oil Wfc  '
1. Lou Reed
2. Laurie Anderson
3. Public Image Limited
4. David Bowie
5. Poisoned   [with   Art   Berg
mann]
6. The Clash
7. Peter Gabriel
8. The Cramps
9. Echo and the Bunnymen
10. The Cure
11. Mike Club
12. New Order
13. Brian Eno [and friends]
14. Siouxsie and the Banshees
15. Special AKA
16. Shriekback
17. Gang of Four
18. Iggy Pop [and the Stooges]
19. R.E.M.
20. Nina Hagen
21. Holger Czukay
22. Kraftdinner
23. King Crimson
24. Elvis   Costello   [and   the
I m poster]
25.X
26. The Residents
27. Trevor Jones
28. Rank and File
29. The Beverley Sisters
30. Violent Femmes
31. Malcolm X
32. Simple Minds
33. Hiroshi Yano
34. Dead Kennedys
35. Kraftwerk
36. Talking Heads
37. Roxy Music
38. Fabuion
39. Family Plot
40. Killing Joke
41. Tones on Tail
42. Orchestral Manoeuvres in
the Dark
43. Actionauts
44. Bauhaus
45. Joy Division
46. The Stranglers
47. Emily
48. Shanghai Dog
49. Bill Nelson
50. Kate Bush
After a prolonged absence,
the blurb returns. Soon to be
made into a major motion picture, starring: Lou Reed, Peter
Gabriel, and a group of men in
tuxedos wearing enormous ocular organs. Yes, folks, it's the
CITR Mole Show, with the
Residents tunnelling their way
to number 26 this month! What
a group! What a concept! An
LP with George Gershwin on
one side and James Brown
covers on the other. Lou Reed
(no relation) leads the moles,
with a New LP doing very well.
Did you ever wonder why he
wears sunglasses all the time?
He and Peter Gabriel struggle
in the darkness, new releases
succeeding and vaulting them
into the top 10. Confused?
Good.
Notes ... Poisoned perpetuates Mr. Bergmann's reputation as a local hero and jams the
reception of Psychic Healers
somewhat ... The Mike Club,
another local act, make a hit
with their two demo-tape
songs, sadly, they're now defunct ... Who the hell is Kraft-
dinner anyway? ... If they're
so anonymous, perhaps they're
related to Malcolm X, who's not
even alive. Keith Leblanc is the
man with the skeleton in his
closet (or his studio, one could
say) ... The Mole Show welcomes back the Actionauts, but
we are left with one burning
question ... What's an actional?
Coming soon to a bedspread
near you. Catch it!
-Jason
Final Vinyl
They say that home-taping is
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a lot of things, don't they?
Albums in their entirety and
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Mon. -- Jazz album
Tues. and Wed. -- Hot off the
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Albums
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Fri. - 1-2-3-FunkRockNSoul
Albums
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CITR's #1 Playlist LP
Sun. -- Fast Forward's Neglected LP -- the mail brings many
«surprises - you'll hear 'em
here.
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