INFLUENTIAL ALBUM - NURSE WITH WOUND, SYLVIE & BABS

The first times I encountered the entity known as Nurse With Wound were late in 1984 and throughout 1985 as contributors to various "Industrial" compilation albums. Various tracks would pop up on collections such as The Elephant Table, Rising from the Red Sands, The Fight Is On, and numerous others. I found those first exposures pretty baffling. I didn't quite know what to make of this stuff and I didn't actually understand what NWW was. Were they a band? What I heard didn't sound like anyone playing instruments. It seemed like mostly collages of weird sounds and found recordings. I'd be hanging out at various parties, goon'd to the gills, and a NWW piece would come on, out of the blue, and put me in a bad mood. Some of these pieces, like The Dance of Fools, just sounded ugly and unpleasant and made me feel like I'd accidentally been dosed with the "brown acid". It was a "bad trip", man! As such, I tended to dismiss it/them.

It wasn't until an autumn evening in 1986 that I was in just the right place at just the right time with just the right record to open my ears to the genius of Steven Stapleton. I was hanging out with some friends one evening, taking a magic carpet ride on some decent blotter, and going through a stack of LPs my friend had brought over. I came across this album that looked like some thrift store vintage oddity with these torpedo tit'd mid-century maidens on the cover called "Sylvie and Babs". I thought my friend was being funny bringing this record over, slipping it in the stack for a laugh. Then he pointed out the spine of the cover and I saw the name Nurse With Wound on it. Opening up the gate-fold, the inside of the cover was plastered with this collage of bizarre images of drag queens and debauchery and revealed the subversive soul hiding behind the seemingly innocuous outer cover.

Once we'd hit the appropriate altitude on our crazy carpet, we put on Sylvie & Babs and I spent the next 40 minutes in fits of laughter so intense, I was sure I was going to burst a blood vessel. Over the course of the album's two, side long constructs, I was taken on a sonic adventure through landscapes both familiar and alien, ridiculous and sublime. In that state, what Stapleton and cohorts were doing suddenly became clear to me. His sense of timing, of dynamics, of when to go soft and when to beat the fuck out of your head, was all spot-on. Discovering later on that he'd spent years working with dozens of collaborators on this project made perfect sense when considering the complexity of the layering and sequencing involved in it. It was a magnum opus of cut-up collage magnificence from the very first, dreamy sounds to the last.

After this, I became a dedicated aficionado of all things NWW and collected anything I could get my hands on. It taught me to think of composition as a process of sculpting and not just how many times you repeat a sequence or what order to put a verse and chorus. It showed me how sound design was a narrative process, where one can create a cinematic story arc with the way sounds were placed and edited and combined. Rigid mathematical considerations like numbers of bars or beats or tempo were not the only considerations in this process. There were intuitive, instinctual, non-linear factors which could be brought to bare on the compositional process as well.

INFLUENTIAL ALBUM - THE HAFLER TRIO, SEVEN HOURS SLEEP

The first time I encountered The Hafler Trio was in 1985 on the L.A.Y.L.A.H. Records compilation album, The Fight Is On, a record which deserves its own acknowledgement for its influence.  The track, "Blanket" Level Approach, was really no more than the sounds of waves on the shore with some strange electronic tones mixed in, but there was something so compelling and enigmatic about it.  The credits on the inner sleeve included Chris Watson, whom I knew from his involvement with Cabaret Voltaire.  The other two in the "trio", Andrew M. McKenzie & Dr. Edward Moolenbeek, were unfamiliar to me.   As it was, the track was interesting enough that I started to look for H3O releases to pick up, the first being Seven Hours Sleep.

The double disc LP consists of various field recordings, edited, processed and augmented with unidentifiable electronic sounds and drones.  Bits of conversation, nature sounds, people playing sports in reverberating auditoriums, all mixed together into something which purported to be "scientifically" motivated research.  You see, there was an unusual dimension to all these works as was indicated from the compilation appearance, through this release and their previous LP release, Bang!  An Open Letter, which my roommate had picked up. 

During these inaugural years of the project, it was all framed in the context of having been inspired by the work of the late, mysterious scientist, Robert Spridgeon, as preserved and documented via the Robol Sound Laboratories facility.  Releases included booklets and texts regarding these experiments, which involved looking at practical applications for sound, some of which could be considered of military value.  There were reports of government interference and secrecy and a whole mythology around Spridgeon's career and fate.  Dr. Moolenbeek, an older gentleman, was purported to be a former associate of Spridgeon, thus providing the link to the present with the past.  One of my friends even wrote to their PO box and received additional printed materials detailing the history of Robol and its theories and the controversies surrounding them and the people involved. 

Of course, we all ate these conspiracy theories up as they were a fascinating conception and lent all these products an air of the "forbidden" and "dangerous".  It wasn't until much later that the whole angle was revealed to be a complete fabrication.  Dr. Moolenbeek never existed, neither did Spridgeon or Robol.  It was all ingeniously crafted and concocted by McKenzie and Watson as an experiment in misinformation and misdirection.  Once I got over the initial indignation of having bought into this ruse, I had to admit that the completeness and attention to detail in manufacturing it all was remarkable and it was an object lesson in the power of persuasion and plausible distraction.  It illustrated the ability of artists to conjure their own realities. 

In 1988, Chris Watson left H3O for a lauded career as a natural sound recordist for the BBC and, later, released many acclaimed solo albums of his field recordings.  McKenzie continued on with H3O until 2006, releasing dozens of challenging and thought provoking products until he changed tactics and withdrew from the mass media arena.

INFLUENTIAL ALBUM - DEVO, Q: ARE WE NOT MEN? A: WE ARE DEVO!

I was spending the night with my brother and cousin at my great grandma's house the weekend DEVO appeared on SNL in 1978 and performed Satisfaction and Jocko Homo.  I had just started to dip my toe into the waters of "punk" and "new wave" music with the likes of The Ramones, Elvis Costello and The Clash, but DEVO took my brain into a whole other realm of strangeness. 

Like The Ramones, DEVO offered up a pretty bullet proof concept.  They had every angle covered and every nut and bolt was rock solid tight.  I didn't know anything about the band's history or inspirations back then.  All I knew was this group was coming out of the gate with their shit tight as fuck and, as odd and goofy as they were, you also got the sense that they meant business. 

After seeing the SNL performances, it became an immediate mission for me to get out to the record shop and snap up a copy of their debut album.  Once I did and got it home, what spun out of those grooves was a continuation of the flawless execution I'd seen on TV.  Every track was spot-on with it's composition and lyrics.  This was stuff you wanted to quote from the get-go.  It was so compelling that I took to putting DEVO graffiti all over the high school boys washroom.  I also was dumb enough to wear a home made DEVO badge, so the janitor called me out on it, but cut me some slack, saying he didn't think anyone would be dumb enough to put up all that graffiti and then walk around with a badge like that.  Needless to say, I felt guilty and ceased my felt tipped assaults on the facilities.

INFLUENTIAL ALBUM - L.A.Y.L.A.H. ANTIRECORDS, THE FIGHT IS ON

Compilation albums can be a bit like buffets in that there's usually a few things you really like, but a lot of stuff you just gotta pass by.  But the advent of the independent label culture in the wake of the punk/industrial/new wave movements of the late 1970s energized the concept of the compilation album as a critical means of exposing new talent and artists who may have otherwise had too much niche appeal to justify their own dedicated releases to start. 

During an era of abundant notable experimental music compilations, one of the most influential for me remains the 1985 release from L.A.Y.L.A.H. Antirecords, The Fight Is On.  L.A.Y.L.A.H. were a Belgian boutique indie label ran by Marc Monin from 1983 until 1989.  The label was responsible for the initial promotion of a number of renowned experimental artists including Nurse With Wound, Coil, Current 93, The Hafler Trio, Organum, Robert Haigh and and others.  The Fight Is On gave me some of my first exposure to several of those artists, nearly all of which subsequently became collecting obsessions. 

L.A.Y.L.A.H. releases always presented themselves with extremely high production values and refined design aesthetics.  Seeing that imprint on any piece of vinyl or CD was generally a guarantee that you'd be getting your hands on something unusual and distinctive for collectors with the most discerning tastes. 

The Fight Is On, as a collection, has never seen a reissue of significance since its initial release, which is unfortunate as it does offer an invaluable cross section of the prime movers of the post industrial experimental music scene at that time.  The intersection of "noise" music with Neo-classicism and Neo-folk's early tendrils provides an essential foundation for comprehending the roots of where these genres would develop in the ensuing decades.

INFLUENTIAL ALBUM - LUSTMORD, HERESY

On February 18, 1980, about 20 people tucked into a compact basement studio in the the Hackney borough of London to spend an hour watching Throbbing Gristle invent an album.  One of those lucky few was a fellow by the name of Brian Williams.  After this event, he went on to work with SPK for a bit and then created Lustmord.  The first LP he did under this moniker in 1981 was decent enough industrial noise, but Brian had something more insidious brewing in the depths.  It wasn't until his appearance on The Fight Is On compilation in 1985 that this new direction would start to reveal itself, followed up and more fully fleshed out on his 1986 sophomore release, Paradise Disowned.  But it was his third album in 1990, Heresy, which would put into practice the potential he'd been building towards.

The fundamentals of ambient music had been lingering in the alternative music scene for nearly two decades with the likes of Eno and some of the German bands of the 1970s.  The KLF brought it into the "rave" scene's emerging "chill rooms" with their 1990 Chill Out album.  Lustmord took this moody, spacious aesthetic someplace else, however.  He took it into the netherworld, someplace dark and deep and resonating with subsonic looming and dooming frequencies that could conjure the most ancient Mephistophelian deities. 

Heresy wasn't so much released as it emerged from the darkness and the deep.  It barely contains anything even identifiable as "musical".  It's mostly a sensation of moving air and vibrations so low and deep, they're almost imperceptible while making you feel like the ground is swelling beneath you.  You can feel the hot, slow breath of Satan himself exhaling from these depths.  This is a soundtrack for lost souls, forever doomed to wander the catacombs of eternity.  In other words, it's fucking HEAVY shit, but it doesn't need distortion or thundering drums to pull you down into itself.  You can just let go and fall into the infinite abyss. 

Heresy set the pace for pretty much every Lustmord album that came after it.  Brian would go on to refine his approach to give it even greater breadth and scope in releases like my personal favorite, The Place Where the Black Stars Hang.  But it was Heresy that staked out that territory first and deserves the credit for inspiring so many of us to grab a torch and go spelunking into these caverns of sounds for ourselves.

INFLUENTIAL ALBUM - COIL, HOW TO DESROY ANGELS

Among the many groundbreaking releases put out by Belgian lable, L.A.Y.L.A.H. Antirecords, one of the most unusual and controversial was the debut release by the Psychic TV offshoot project, Coil.  Originally conceived as the inaugural release for the newly established Temple Ov Psychick Youth label, Temple Records, plans for its release via that outlet were scuttled when relationships between Genesis P-Orridge​ & Coil founders, John Balance (Geoff Rushton) and Peter Christopherson soured when the pair became increasingly concerned that TOPY was becoming too much of a "cult of personality" around P-Orridge.  Amid a somewhat acrimonious parting of ways, John & "Sleazy" decided to pursue Coil as their main creative outlet and took the recording of How to Destroy Angels with them. 

Intended to further the work begun with the PTV release, Themes, which was intended as practical accompaniment for ritual practices, How to Destroy Angels was recorded under a very strict set of guidelines to abet very specific intents.   Conceived around the symbolism relative to the Martian element, it was designed to facilitate the accumulation of masculine sexual energies.  To this end, all care during the recording process was taken to ensure these energies were intensified, even so far as to ensure the entire building was cleared of any conflicting elements or energies.  Those who do not understand basic principals of ritual may not comprehend the value of such acts and may interpret them as potentially sexist, but this is not in any way meant to disparage or denigrate other types of energies.  It is merely and experiment in focusing on a particular type of force. 

The result of this effort was a 17 minute abstract tonal piece consisting of various gongs, bells, cymbals and certain other acoustic sources.  The B-side of the album was left, ostensibly, blank, though there are several pressing variants, one with a constant tone throughout, another with the side appearing to have been sanded down to destroy whatever sound was pressed there (which I had), another had some layered tones and another had a series of locked grooves.  One pressing had completely blank grooves, which was the original intent.  All variations on this were called Absolute Elsewhere. 

I picked this up shortly after the first Coil full LP, Scatology, in 1985.  Personally, it has always been and remains one of my all time favorite releases by this project.  It's a clear example of how music can be created for practical application, beyond mere "entertainment", with abilities to aid certain processes.  I've had several practical experiences of using it which were extremely efficacious.  On the other hand, I've played this for people who were completely unable to comprehend it as anything but a bunch of rattling noises with no intent or purpose.  It certainly doesn't exist for "easy listening".

INFLUENTIAL ALBUM - Señor Coconut Y Su Conjunto, El Baile Alemán

On this day where we mourn the loss of the inimitable Florian V2 Schneider, it only seems fitting that I look back at an album which celebrated the genius of Kraftwerk and showed how truly timeless and classic their songs are.  The album was created by German musician & producer, Uwe Schmidt, in 1999.  After relocating to Santiago, Chile, Schmidt conceived of the alter-ego, Señor Coconut, and began creating Latin infused reinterpretations of classic songs.  His stroke of genius was to make his second outing a complete dedication to the music of Kraftwerk.

I first heard the album shortly after its release when it was played to me by a friend.  El Baile Alemán, at first glance, seemed like an absurd idea.  Doing classic Kraftwerk as Cha-Cha and Merengue music felt completely contradictory, until you heard it.  Once the disc started to spin and you heard those first notes, it became immediately apparent how beautifully these songs adapted to these interpretations.  Song after song sends you on another journey you never expected these compositions could take you.  Autobahn, for example, morphs from being a slip-stream cruise on modern pavement into a loping clip-clop donkey ride as the car refuses to start and you have to saddle up instead.  The movement and the sense of traveling are still there, but the pace is just so much more leisurely, perfect for enjoying the scenery.

Listening to this album gave me an entirely new appreciation for the songwriting craft of the "Man Machine".  It illustrates the precision and elegance of their compositions and how each element is vital to the picture the song paints.  It shows how each sound can be translated into an analog which retains the conceptual integrity of the original while transforming it into a new shape.  After hearing Señor Coconut, my view of Kraftwerk as song writers was more akin to how I see classical composers vs "pop" musicians.  But I shouldn't have been surprised by this, given Ralph & Florian's background. 

But let's not heap all the praise on the source material alone.  Schmidt's work here is genius in itself.  The way he's arranged these songs and performed them is so flawless, he manages to create his own space while at the same time paying tribute to its origins.  Though the tools he's using are decidedly electronic in nature, the feel of the album is totally organic and natural, even when he slips in the odd breakbeat trill. 

After 20 years in my music library, it's an album I can go to any time and find it just as fresh and fun as the first time I played it.  It's a celebration of many things on many levels, and a sincere, genuine love letter to both Kraftwerk and Latin music.