Murderous (Instrumental)

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Deutschland

from the LP Burn Berlin Burn, Grand Royal Records, released: 1997, recorded: 1995



Typically, when someone announces that they are an anarchist, it’s met with understandably doubtful expressions & exhausted sighs---even the Black Blockers I knew up in Minneapolis (deemed by some to really be “true” anarchists) were mostly just angsty, middle-class white kids acting out their pre-conceived notions of rebellion (i.e. “smell me, motherfucker…”). Thus, it was with a suspicious & cynical mind that I first laid ears on digital hardcore forbearers Atari Teenage Riot, although it was admittedly more enticing due to the press reports of them being banned in their own country following a spate of riots that had erupted after their performances; I don’t mean that I think riots are cool or anything vacuous like that, but when art causes people to lose it, I can’t help but take notice. The results, musically speaking, were a pretty mixed bag: much of the album (not an LP proper, but a collection of their previously released 7”s & EPs) was filled with jackhammer gabber-beats which proved to be near unlistenable to all but the most dedicated of hardcore fans (see: people high on glue), but a few of the tracks where they slowed things down have become a consistent part of my library over the years, including this song---the one which got their LP barred from stores in Germany. For us Americans, it’s like the Weather Underground going techno, radical slogans & brash tunes; frankly, somebody out there needs to sample Alec Empire (the band’s leader) when he says, “…we react very strongly to tranquilizers, you know…” Seriously though, given Angela Merkel’s declaration last month that multiculturalism in Germany is dead, and the rise of right-wing neo-fascism spreading across Western European politics like wildfire, maybe these guys weren’t just being paranoid or dramatic…

Hot with Fleas

from the 12” single, Nettwerk Records, 1987



One of the more successful experimental crews from the ‘80s, Australia’s Severed Heads had already transitioned into a more mainstream sound (albeit, no less dark) by the time of this hopping single (laugh at the bad pun), one which undoubtedly had a major impact on Trent Reznor as he was preparing his debut album. Composer, and long-standing band member, Tom Ellard explains the name choice, “…we were called Mr. & Mrs. No Smoking Sign, because that was really ugly; then, we wanted to fool people that we were industrial, and it worked… Severed Heads was a really dumb name, so that’s what stuck, forever… I hate it, by the way…” With that sarcastic vibe in mind, I’m leaning towards this track being merely metaphor, although it could espouse something darker & kinkier all together (re: pediculophilia, ala Lords of Acid’s “Crablouse”), “…I am covered in filth, at least it's my own; my smell, well, you know you can't get higher…one day in my life is six in your world; with filth, it's all a little faster…I am off the leash, and hot with fleas, family couldn't be stronger; I am off your leash and hot with fleas…” Ellard has been quoted as saying that this track was written at a bad time for feelings, but a good time for wising up, which is a perpetual state of being for some of us.

Collapsing New People

from the LP Gag, Mute Records, 1984



A school topic which seems to brandish perpetual appeal amongst young kids is any discussion on criminal punishments of yore: the guillotine, being burned at the stake, the rack, even lesser penalties like being put in the stocks. One method of retribution that always gets a mention is the process of “tarring & feathering”, but the very notion of such a visibly riotous procedure always left me with one eyebrow raised as to the practicality of such an odd course of action---that is, until I saw the video for this track by British freakazoid (and I mean that in the best possible way) Frank Tovey, a.k.a. ‘Fad Gadget’. With a little help from like-minded weirdo’s Einstürzende Neubauten, he created one of the paramount roasts of gothic / industrial culture in the ‘80s, all tongue-in-cheek of course, “…stay awake all night, but never see the stars, and sleep all day, on a chain link bed of nails… steer clear of the sun, pancake sandpaper skin; they have no reflections, drink blood but pierce no veins… exagerrate the scar tissue, wounds that never heal; takes hours of preparations, to get that wasted look…” You simply must watch the video for full effect (dig the “band”, particularly that chick playing the hell out of those Perrier bottles): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xGXBjwifubI

Nature's Made a Mistake

from the cassette box Sex&Beast…, Bain Total Records, 1984



Drawing as much (or more) inspiration from the electro scene as it does from industrial music of that era, this track pops & locks its way through over six minutes of steely, pulsating abandon, coming off like an early blueprint for dark techno; quite frankly, it does sort of sound like a track from Cybotron’s Enter sessions, which may very well have served as the muse here. This song comes from a very infamous compilation, essentially a birthday present to the illustrious Genesis P. Orridge (Throbbing Gristle, Psychic TV) from all the headiest names in the industrial, synth, and experimental underground music scenes of that time; there were 666 copies made of the original box set, which included four cassette tapes and many songs that never wound up anywhere else. That, and the kinky nature inherent to many of the song’s titles (not to mention, the name of the box set itself, which I won’t even type due to the unwanted search traffic such a heading would inevitably bring with it), has made this one of the most hallowed & sought-after comps of all time, complete copies fetching well over $1000. Son of Sam (almost laughably gratuitous choice of name aside) turns out one of the more danceable additions in this collection here, and they must have been happy with it because it wound up on a few of their own releases.

Supernaut

from the 12” single, Wax Trax! Records, 1990



It’s been said that imitation is the highest form of flattery, so it follows that if said imitation happens to be fucking awesome, those who are being mimicked (in this case, Sabbath) should feel especially thanked. Al Jourgensen has had more side projects than you can count on both hands, this particular one-off being amongst my favorites, right up there with Revolting Cocks, and Lard; sadly, the most infamous participant of these sessions, one Trent Reznor on vocals, wasn’t allowed to have his take put on the official release, as his label, TVT records, wouldn’t allow it---not missing a beat, Al proceeded to re-record the singing parts with his best Reznor-like inflection, which is rather convincing actually. If you are listening to this song while driving, be careful: this is one of those tracks that can alter your perception of speed easily, thus I suggest using the cruise control button so as to avoid getting tickets. Al found one of the sweetest samples ever for the intro here, “…the psychedelic jackets on the record albums have their own hidden symbols and messages…and they all sing the same refrain: it's fun to take a trip, put acid in your veins…”

Als Wär's Das Letzte Mal

from the LP Alles Ist Gut, Virgin Records, 1981



If you happened to have been granted access inside any urban, BDSM dungeon during the early ‘80s, there’s a pretty good chance that you’re already well familiar with this album---you probably also have a panoply of fascinating stories to share about said underground clubs, but we’ll save those for another day, or blog, or whatever. Fascism never sounded so sexy (wink), and the fallout from Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft’s (DAF, which essentially means ‘German American Friendship’) commie-centric image is hard to overstate, as suddenly Marxist symbology became something of a calling card for hardcore industrial and EBM crews; groups like Nitzer Ebb or Front 242 would have surely looked different had DAF not expanded the template before them. The title of this song means “as if it were the last time”, and yes, if your mind went right into the gutter with that one you were correct---the gist of the lyrics being to kiss, rub, & fuck as hard as one can with your respective ‘liebling’ (darling), like you might never get the chance to again. You can almost smell the leather…

Sin

from the LP Pretty Hate Machine, TVT Records, 1989



Yet another case of the critics being dead-ass wrong, this debut album was lambasted from all directions upon its release, yet it proved to be a divining rod for the second wave of gothic boys & girls, a clarion call to be firm in their dastardly image, and a celebration of all Reznor’s influences: Throbbing Gristle, Ministry, Front 242, Chrome, DAF. This tape was a big deal man---you needed to have it by 1990/1991 if you were “cool”; the weird thing about that being, I remember some rather preppy individuals rocking this album back then, I suppose initialing just exactly how much crossover appeal Trent was really slinging. His severity, in both tone & message, increased with each successive album from here on out, so it’s always kind of refreshing to spin these older songs and recall back when these tracks were actually sort of scary and imposing, loosely masochistic and submissive, but barely intimating what was to come later.

Principles

from the 7” single, New Dance Records, 1981



I attended a mandatory “in-service” last night for all the faculty at this community college (c.c.) where I’ve been teaching some classes---those things are always a hot fucking mess! I’m sure this is to no one’s surprise, but a lot of teachers don’t exactly have the choicest social skills, thus when you squeeze a whole bunch of them (many of who don’t know one another) into a tiny room, things get really fun; fortunately, the sociology folks are always pretty mellow. Working at both a c.c. & 4-year university at the same time provides me a great deal of contrast, and although there are surely some stereotypes about life around a c.c. which do hold water (actual quote from last night, “…please tell your students that the computer lab across the hall from the F.S.C. has been moved right next to the library due to the ongoing asbestos removal issue where it used to be…”!), I have to say, it’s so radiantly clear how much more seriously the leadership at a c.c. takes the success and wellness of their students as compared to a university. Frankly, I can’t think of a single instance at any university meeting I’ve graced with my presence where genuine thought & time was spent first on taking care of the students, above taking care of the faculty, administration, donors…shit, the fucking city comes before the kids there. Whatever the hierarchy of priorities, all levels of the ivory tower tend (claim?) to hold their principles as golden; Belgian god’s Front 242 are certainly a crew that’s always had strong opinions (both musically & socio-politically), crafting their own path through the industrial scene that began right here with their sparse but powerful debut single, clean original copies of which actually trade for well over $500 amongst collectors.

TV as Eyes

from the LP Half Machine Lip Moves, Siren Records, 1979



While Throbbing Gristle may generally be regarded as the whole genesis of industrial music, seeing things that black & white oversimplifies the matter entirely, in my opinion anyways; yes, Gristle brought extreme white noise into our lives, but industrial music has never just been about dissonant clattering, and one could make a substantial argument that San Francisco project Chrome actually had more direct musical impact upon later industrial bands than anyone else in the first wave. For all intensive purposes, Chrome consisted of the core duo Damon Edge (handling the “vocals”, synthesizers, and other programmed effects) and Helios Creed (slaying of guitars), and the music they created remains some of the most cosmically fucked up shit my ears have ever had the luxury of becoming acquainted with, at once experimental & yet inviting; above all the skronk, Edge & Creed’s influences are clear: Pere Ubu, The Stooges, Hendrix, Hawkwind, krautrock and punk rock in general. That being said, when it all gets mixed together and you throw in some trippy overdubs culled from random television broadcasts, Chrome’s tunes are indeed their own breed and they have aged considerably better than most of their avant-garde peers.

Hot on the Heels of Love

from the LP 20 Jazz-Funk Greats, Industrial Records, 1979



Anyone unfamiliar with Throbbing Gristle’s earlier sonic experiments would view the title of this album as rather misleading, and rightfully so, as there is nothing that even approaches the constructs of jazz-funk on this LP; however, relative to virtually every single other bit of recorded “music” that Gristle had loosed upon the masses up to this point, the album was actually deeply accessible and, frankly, down right welcoming. Built around the unorthodox mind of Genesis P-Orridge, who at the time was still dressing as a man, Throbbing Gristle seemed less interested in making music than they did in challenging people to look at the sicker things in life; one hallmark of early shows was to splice images through a projector of straight & gay porn cut with gruesome pictures of war, people being executed, flesh burning, etc… These exorcised demons are the foundation of industrial music, plain and simple.

Megalomaniac

from the LP Symbols, Wax Trax! Records, 1997



Pioneers of the mainstream industrial sound which grew out of the mid – late ‘80s, the German duo KMFDM (Sascha & En Esch) always stood out from their peers due to a focus on heavy, highly danceable beats, politically radical lyrics & incredible album covers care of artist Aidan "Brute!" Hughes. Their name is short for the grammatically incorrect German phrase "Kein Mehrheit Für Die Mitleid", which loosely translated means, “no pity for the majority”---the only problem is, they both decided to have some fun with interviewers on their very first American tour, giving rise to the eternal myth that the letters actually stood for “Kill MotherFucking Depeche Mode”; in fact, the duo are friends and fans of Gahan, Gore & the boys. This album finds KMFDM in the middle of their career, and this opening track has always been a favorite of mine, unrelenting beat and thunderous guitar riffage.

Fat of the Land

from the LP Flesh, J & J Records, 1983




Uber-experimentalists, this couple self-produced a bevy of electronic-based material in the early ‘80s, a surprising amount of it totally listenable.

Sleeping Beast

from the LP Remission, Nettwerk Records, 1984



Long before groups like Nine Inch Nails took the scene in a more mainstream direction, the connotations with industrial music were much darker and more theatrical; seriously, back in school, if someone was wearing a Skinny Puppy t-shirt, you could make a reasonably safe guess that they were also wearing all black, something relating to bondage, and had hair bigger than Robert Smith. Skinny Puppy formed in Vancouver, Canada in the early ‘80s, and this was their first long player (not including their demo); honestly, were it not for Nivek Ogre’s gravelly and slightly-over-the-top vocals, this could blend right in with the coldwave and synth-pop of that time. They have continued to shape their sound over the years, becoming slower and even moodier, establishing a rabid and achingly loyal fan base across the globe.

N.W.O.

from the LP ΚΕΦΑΛΗΞΘ, Sire Records, 1992



Evolution is a process which, in my humble opinion, virtually every matter-holding entity, in any universe, is subject to the powers of; in the case of Ministry, one could never have predicted this level of aggression if you had only been subjected to Al Jourgensen’s early singles (from 1980 – 1986). Any semblance of the new romantic, synth-pop foundation from which he sprung are cremated in a metallic blur of growling guitars, industrial drumming, and found sounds like burglar alarms & audio clips from real life riots. Ministry had long been hardening their sound up to this point, but they had never sounded so consumed as they did on this, their strangely-titled fifth album. This song is proving to be prophetic, as globalization has put us all prone at the feet of a new world order…

Daisy Chain 4 Satan

from the LP Confessions of a Knife…, Wax Trax Records, 1990



When you look over the entire 30 years or so of musical output which falls under the label of “industrial”, it can be a bit dizzying and, ultimately, a problematical task to try and find a common thread which ties everybody together. One thing that certainly crops up in industrial music from every decade is found sounds or samples of things like television or radio; at this particular point in the late ‘80s – early ‘90s, industrial music had adopted a very pop-oriented underpinning which might have made many early experimental-industrial artists cringe. I love it however, and the more twisted the better, which TKK do extremely well, including everything but the kitchen sink in this mix: screaming, maniacal laughter, evil processed vocals, backmasking, homicidal threats, and a really dark sample rollicking through the entire track, “…I live for drugs, it’s great, it’s great…I freaked out very very badly, freaked out, on acid...I live for drugs, it’s great, it’s great…I’m the white rabbit…”