This Music Is
Difficult
So perhaps it is true when the
loyalists of Genesis P-Orridge’s industrial stubbornly claim that Trent Reznor
is not “industrial”. But not for the
typical reasons that such industrial-strength boneheads pronounce, most notably
those magic words sell out. The
artistic success of industrial has always come from the ability to create and
maintain an unsettling mood of terror.
This badge of terror so proudly worn by Coil, Laibach, and Skinny Puppy
is the same terror manifested by Swans and the Birthday Party. Despite these examples having thematic
differences, all wholly divulge into their own abjection, an internal force
that is lacking in Trent’s sappy S/M stories.
The best definition of abjection
lies in The Powers Of Horror by Julie Kristeva, the post-modern queen of
the abject. Working upon Kristeva’s
theories, Biba Kopf has proposed the metaphor to abjection as “the trap between
(one’s) own desires and prohibitions.
The pull between these polarities is irresistibly downward, tugging
(one) deeper into a paralyzing depression.”
At this time in the history of pop
music, I have very little faith that the industrial of Nine Inch Nails,
Ministry, or Chem Lab will ever unveil a glimpse into the abyss of
abjection. Angst they may have down,
but abjection, never. So it seems that
the legacy that Industrial Records continued in a long line of practitioners of
the abject was never handed down to those who carry the name today. Rather it has been passed into the hands of
a small band of apocalyptic guitarists who have occasionally been associated
with experimental or isolationist circles.
What makes Keiji Haino’s solo work
and his work fronting Fushitsusha so tortured is his inimitable voice. The only voice that comes close to his
ability in translating the abject is that of Blixa Bargeld of Einstürzende
Neubauten; growling and wailing over a desolate lilting viola on
“Armenia”. While Bargeld and company
employ a calculated precision in their explorations through their burning souls,
Haino opens his version of Pandora’s Box, where shards of black energy erupt
out of the white hot guitar feedback.
Such an infernal energy constructed from the guitar is matched only by a
voice capable of both transfixing mantra and violent spastic howl. Altogether, it is an exorcism. Haino at one time considered becoming a
monk, so applying the term spiritual to his music is quite appropriate… not in
the sense of any structured religion, but rather a fragile spirituality based
on introspection and wandering through the internal mazes of the abject. As every performance and recording is
improvised both musically and lyrically, Haino traverses sets of personal
mythologies that have been developed through the ritual of improvisation. Information and knowledge are what Haino
gets from these rituals of the abject and are what keep him returning to his
inner hell.
In mentioning Einstürzende
Neubauten’s precision, I have brought up a strong history of precision,
austerity, and darkness with German art.
Once so strong that I wonder what secrets are held within the gray skies
of Berlin to inspire such traits.
Caspar Brötzmann easily situates himself within the dark lineage of
Germans that includes Goethe, Wagner, Anselm Keifer, Werner Herzog, Peter Brötzmann
(his father), Neubauten, and Malaria.
Like Neubauten, Brötzmann rarely employs the most archetypical symbol
for chaos within pop music… feedback.
Rather dissidence is created in a more Classical sense as a sound is
placed with seemly incongruous sound, causing the perception of the two sounds
to seem distorted, to seem dislocated, to seem chaotic. The unfortunate side effect of the
virtuosity required is that a few of Brötzmann’s recent compositions with his
group Caspar Brötzmann Massacre resembles the masturbatory excess and pretense
of seventies prog rock (i.e. Rush, Yes, King Crimson, etc.). But for the most part, Brötzmann’s work pays
homage to the abject fascination with the dislocation and fragmentation of the
self. This is in apparent contradiction
to both the precision of the compositions and the primitivist mythologies
constructed in the cover art
(Massacre’s newest album Home displays Brötzmann’s “cave”
painting of a charging bull) and titles “The Tribe”, “Hunter Song”, “Schwarze
Folklore”, etc.). Yet the mythology of
precision and these primitivist mythologies are constructed by Brotzman’s ego
principally as the unifying signifier for an undefined brute force, whose
primary functions are the simultaneous assemblage, fragmentation, and reassemblage.
For those of you who avidly read Forced
Exposure or Music From The Empty Quarter, Stefan Jaworzyn may be a
familiar name. As a music critic,
Jaworzyn zealously attacks all the music that disgusts him. Although UK music critics are known for
their fickle attitudes towards styles and bands, Jaworzyn’s bile is still
excessive and extreme. Such disdain is
not lost when he puts down the pen and picks up the guitar. Having worked with the sado-electronics
outfit Whitehouse and with the apocalyptic power house Skullflower, Jaworzyn’s
black energy is not hard to decipher.
His newest project, Ascension, is far more abstract than either
Whitehouse or Skullflower as it emerges more from a free jazz/ free noise
aesthetic than from Throbbing Gristle or the Stooges, respectively. Ascension constructs the aural metaphor of
abjection as being trapped within an infinite number of glass boxes and the
subsequent shattering of those boxes in an attempt to escape, despite the
unavoidable lacerations that will follow.
As technology has entered into the
realm of the traditional rock structure to form “post-rock” (i.e. Seefeel,
Disco Inferno, Labradford, etc.), pop music has entered a new era, where the
synthesizer and the sampler blend effortlessly with the guitar, bass and drums
moving towards an egoless introspection, the historical places of gothic,
industrial, punk, and techno may have already been written. Despite the fact that many of these
guitarists have been recording for quite some time (Haino’s first recordings
were made in 1970, the Broken Flag collective of Skullflower, Ramleh, Total,
Ax, etc. has been around since the early 80’s), they have remained unheralded
simply for the reason that this music is difficult. Unfortunately, difficulty is not a trait that the pop music
industry sees as valuable in pop music.
This was posted without permission from Permission
(fall/winter 1995 ed.).
Author: Jim Haynes.
If you have a valid legal complaint about this, send me
mail explaining such and it will be removed.
Thanks.