Arcane Candy

Jim O’Rourke and David Grubbs of Gastr del Sol. Photo by Rich Jacobs.

Los Angeles, California
Friday, August 2, 1996

This was an acoustic guitarathon to end all “athons.” Smog was melancholy and sing-songy. Gastr del Sol was alternately tuned, droney and grated one big, long piece of cheese. John Fahey wound intricate webs of disturbed thought around the very gradually dispersing crowd–he played at least close to two hours–highlighted by some ghostly lap steel slide action. Although it didn’t floor me like I thought it might, this was still a pretty good show with definite moments of nod-out bliss. About 75% of the 200-plus people there used Spaceland as a mere watering hole—yakking endlessly and seemingly oblivious that actual live music was being played. Oh well, give me a call sometime.

John Fahey. Photo by Rich Jacobs.

Note: This article originally appeared in Lou Zine (Lou’s Records newsletter) in August 1996.

Los Angeles, California
Saturday, June 8 and Sunday, June 9, 1996

Borbetomagus is a free-floating, amorphous blob of extremely loud sound that swirls around other dimensions and occasionally gushes out into the realm of human hearing through the saxophones of Jim Sauter and Don Dietrich, and the guitar of Donald Miller. Since 1979, they have assaulted the psyche of styrofoam heads everywhere with unapologizing sonorities. Dropping microphones–which are plugged into a wide array of guitar effects pedals leading into huge amps–down inside their saxes, an ultra-dense noise field is maintained as innumerable shards of high and low-pitched infinity cut through you at any given second. Spoutin’ puddles of spit into long, clear, soft plastic tubes fastened into their mouthpieces, the giant wooly mammoth-fighting-Godzilla-in-a-shipyard sound completely envelopes you more snugly than grandma’s knitted mittens ever could. It’s noise as warmth. Sound as pure emotion. An undefinable, ever-shifting area of existence, or something. The cloud is addled further as Donald Miller scratches, saws and taps away on his guitar with bows, files, metal dishes, etc. Simply put, Borbetomagus is way more loud, piercing, brutal and overwhelming, than any kind of live band I’ve ever witnessed. Ever. Jabberjaw and Glaxa Studios are coffee shop / performance spaces. The former is just a small, open room with a lot of rock bands coming through, while the latter is more of a theatre type set-up with diverse presentations. About 30 people attended each night.

Note: This article originally appeared in Lou Zine (Lou’s Records newsletter) June 1996.

Audience members scope Keith Rowe’s guitar. Photo by Pat D.

Los Angeles, California
Wednesday, April 24, 1996

AMM is a British free improvisation group that has been operating since 1965, when they pretty much single-handedly invented the genre. From the very beginning, they attempted to make music that was not influenced by anything that came before–a complete and radical break with the past–and their first record, AMMusic from 1966, proves it. Imagine my surprise when I heard they were scheduled to play two nights at The Ivar Theatre in Los Angeles. Although I didn’t attend the first night, two separate little birds told me it was one thick, elementary school stage curtain of sound with occasional moments of transcendence and boredom.

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San Diego, California
Thursday, February 1, 1996

Steve Peters laid down some slowly evolving, austere electronic soundlands with occasional chanting and singing while Anna sang in “tongues” and manipulated many “found” (searched for?) objects: toys, scrap metal, paper, plastic (paper or plastic?), party favors, bells, whistles (bells and whistles?) and rocks, etc. through myriad effects. At one point, Steve even tapped and bowed a contact-miked tree branch to nice, otherwordly effect. Overall, this was a fairly screwing (a new version of riveting) 45 minutes of non-stop soundland dream effort. Not many people were there–how surprising. Steve Roden, of abstract painting and In Be Tween Noise fame, fell ill and was unable to perform, which was kind of a bummer, because I really enjoy listening to his CDs a lot more than looking at your corns.

Note: This article originally appeared in Lou Zine (Lou’s Records newsletter) in February 1996.