Suicide - Live At Club Europa December 11, 2008

I was fortunate enough to attend that rarest of rare occurences, a live Suicide show, last Thursday night. It was my second time seeing them, as I also caught their free show at the South Street Seaport last summer; nothing quite as weird as seeing the darkest of bands playing outdoor in the sunshine to a crowd full of drunk yuppies.

This time, they chose the odd venue of Club Europa in Greenpoint, a two-floor club that mostly hosts local acts, not seminal ones that have influenced everything that has come since. It's actually a nice venue, as the upstairs as a nice bar in the back, a stage in the front with plenty of room to either stand or you can grab a seat on the couches that surround the dancefloor. I arrived in time to catch the A.R.E. Weapons setting up, after a typically long wait for the cursed G train. I've seen the A.R.E. Weapons before, but have never really found them to be very compelling. I hear descriptions of noise rock, electro rock, confrontational, etc., but that wasn't what I heard that night. It just sounds like blah glam-y punk or something; the tunes didn't grip me, they definitely didn't venture into noise territory and generally made me wish I had come an hour later.



The main event began around 11:2o, I believe, as Mr. Alan Vega and Mr. Martin Rev walked through the crowd and up onto the stage. By the time they did, the room was packed, a nice surprise considering it was a Thursday night in Greenpoint and it was still pouring rain at showtime. Vega (real name: Alan Bernowitz) wore a black hooded sweatshirt and lit a cigarette about a song in. I know it'll make me sound like a fan boy, but who gives a shit? Dude is just cool personfied, all attitude, sneering, punk despite the fact that he's twice as old as anyone in the room. They opened with two classics, "Ghost Rider" and "Rocket USA," killing it with both, you would have no idea that these two dudes never really play live (I believe that I've caught their last two shows in NYC) Vega's still got that voice, that jittery, paranoid one that sucks you in and demands you listen.



To be honest, this night was all about Martin Rev, as he killed it the entire night. On the new track they introduced, Rev went off on a 4 or 5 minute Korg solo that had Vega sitting down to let the man shine. At times, the sinister shit Rev played completely overwhelmed Vega's vocals, which was a little frustrating as Suicide isn't the same without Vega's crazed Elvis-y vocals. But, honestly, I wouldn't want Rev to be lower in the mix, as that minimal ruckus he raises is perfect,



The band played for a little more than an hour, then walked off the stage and headed back to the dressing room area. They ignored the encore calls, as the lights went up after about 5 minutes. They came, kicked ass and left. I headed out and shockingly the G came for the first time ever just as I was getting to the platform. I like to think that Suicide's music scared the shit out of the MTA and forced them to hook up the exiting fans.



All of these terrible photos were taken by me with the aid of the lovely Miss LS's camera. Let me leave you with a parting shot of the machines that made it all happen. We'll have more Suicide live music coming up, some real goodies people. Yeah yeah yeah!

Suicide - 23 Minutes Over Brussels

Suicide, "23 Minutes Over Brussels" (YSI link)

Every so often I like to focus on one particular artist or genre for a bit and that time has come again. I caught one of my favorite bands of all-time, Suicide, last Thursday night at Club Europa in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. I'll have more to say on that later, but for now I wanted to start posting up some live Suicide music.

There's no other place to start than the duo's most infamous show, June 16, 1978, live at the Anciennes Belgique, Brussels, Belgium. The band was in Europe opening for a few bands you've probably heard of - The Clash and Elvis Costello. This particular night, they were opening for Elvis Costello & the Attractions and this particular crowd was not happy at having to wait to hear their hero. Suicide opens with "Ghost Rider" and it's all downhill from there. The guys are booed pretty lustily after that one, but little does anyone know that booing is this audience being polite. You get an "Elvis! Elvis!" chant after "Rocket USA," booing and whistling throughout the fourth song, "Dance." By the time they get to "Frankie Teardrop," things are getting ugly. Someone in the audience steals the microphone, forcing the promoter to come out and demand it back or the show will be cancelled. Alan Vega subsequently begins to tell the crowd (or one person in particular) to "fuck off" and as the tape cuts, a full-fledged riot has broken out. Vega gets his nose broken, the club is torn up and the Suicide legend begins. 23 minutes.

This was a bonus track released as a second on the reissue of Suicide's self-titled first album. If you do not own that album, stop whatever you are doing and buy a copy. Then, buy a second copy to give out to a stranger. This is essential music from the studio and the stage, the darkest, most immediate music I've ever heard.

So Young But So Cold: French Underground Music 1979-1982

J.J. Burnel, "Euroman" (YSI link)

Kas Product, "So Young But So Cold" (YSI link)

I believe that Volga Select and Tigersushi presented this CD, So Young But So Cold: French Underground Music 1979-1982, solely for me. First, the title is B-A-N-A-N-A-S. It's not just that the title, minus the French underground part, is going to be the name of Chapter 7 of my autobiography, chronicling my 20-28 years. [Incidentally, Chapter 8 is called The Best of Times and chronicles my marriage to Christy Marks, ascension to the role of today's Jane Jacobs and jut general radness of my thirties.] It's also that it's about being cold and detached and distant, which is so me. It's also the fact that it's about the French, my national obsession (shout outs to Eric Cantona, Emanuel Levinas and of course, my father). Plus it focuses on that Pound for Pound golden period, the late 70s, early 80s, when new wave, no wave, disco, electro and hip-hop all came together and melded and reformed and melted faces.

Seriously though, this is one of the best compilations I've heard in a long time. It's everything a compilation should be, a chronicle of an forgotten period of music that deserves to be remembered. It's not surprising that Volga Select was behind this, as it features the amazing death disco man, Ivan Smagghe, as one-half of the duo; the dude has an ear for the dark side of the underground (cf. Death Disco). He was joined by Volga Select partner, a.k.a. Mark Collin, in compiling the music on the disc, This one takes a look at the underground of French music for a three-year stretch that isn't associated as much of a golden period in that country's musical history. The music here covers varied ground, from more new-wave-y stuff to disco-not-disco tracks to experimental stuff; the common theme is the coldness of the music, dominated by machines like the synth and drum machines; one wonders if the government gave out drum machines and synthesizers to every child in the country. Better health care and free Rolands, people! Vive la France! Anyway, the title of the album fits perfectly, as these young groups all seem to have sucked the joy out of the disco that came before (and I mean that as the highest compliment). They've turned in machine music and complimented with detached vocals sung with no divaness at all.

I've chosen a couple of my favorites that should give you a sense of the music on So Young But So Cold. "Euroman" by JJ Bernel is probably my favorite, a minimal, slow-building track that would have fit well with the whole NYC scene of this same period. There's static-y drums, strummed guitar chords, a deep, dubby bass and the whisper-y French vocals of Bernel (I assume). It sounds like the thing could explode at any moment, but it never does. It stays nice and calm, never getting carried away. Awesome. I also went with the title song by Kas Product, "So Young But So Cold." This one's got a electro punk vibe, with some wicked synths, drum machine devastation and intensity. Mona and Spatz Soyoc ironically may have the least cold song on here, as the vocals get belted out with punk abandon. I really could have chosen any of the 16 tracks, as they all work for me, not a letdown on the whole disc. My only disappointment with the CD is the lack of quality liner notes; it would have been nice to have a little more historical information about this period in France, the story on these bands, whether there was a scene or if these bands worked in isolation, what happened to them, etc.

As you can tell, I recommend this as highly as possible, an essential purchase for anyone who likes the music and attitude that lies behind this blog. Grab your copy at Forced Exposure of the repressed version before it goes out of print again and you have to scour ebay or beg your friend for a copy. So Young! So Cold! Yeah!