Showing posts with label Alan Vega. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alan Vega. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

"The House Of The Rising Punk" DVD (director: Christian Dreher)


This 1998 documentary chronicles the early-mid 70's New York pre-punk music scene, told via a series of firsthand accounts from some of the great artists who helped to spawn it (Patti Smith, Tom Verlaine, Richard Hell, Jim Jarmusch, Alan Vega, Legs McNeil, etc.). Of course, this tale involves Hilly Kristal and his Bowery club, CBGB's, which gave these artists and others (Blondie, Talking Heads, Television, Suicide, Ramones, New York Dolls, Wayne/Jayne County, Stooges, etc.) a place to play and grow. 'Rising Punk' is brief (60 minutes), with no extra features, but it doesn't need more. There are tons of rare photos and film clips to illustrate the importance and relevance of New York's CBGB's scene, and it's relation to the 'punk' explosion in general. An excellent and informative look at a counterculture that was (at the time) untainted by commercial pressures or corporate marketing. Recommended for anyone wondering about the genesis of punk rock and alternative music in general. (ABC Entertainment via MVD Visual)

Sunday, April 6, 2008

Alan Vega - "Station" CD


Wow, the legendary vocalist for NYC hellraisers Suicide is back with a scalding, scathing, and fiery album of fearsome grooves and sharp commentary on his homeland's social and political condition. The ominous knife on the cover says it all. Personally, I think Vega's work with Finnish minimalist electro-noise-sculptors Pan Sonic has been an inspiring move, as tracks like '13 Crosses 16 Blazin' Skulls' (my favorite cut here) are surgically-precise blasts of gut-level analogue rhythms boxes and blistering digital noise, with Vega's invective commentary legibly spoken/shouted on top. This is also a logical and faithful continuation of Vega's classic mid-70's work with Martin Rev as Suicide, all unhinged analogue electronics and madman yelps. In 'Devastated', Vega's proclamation of 'How's the future gonna play out for our kids!' is intense and proves that not all of us turn mellow and wishy-washy with age. 'Psychopatha' is a disturbingly funky urban nightmare set to industrial drums and hypnotic noise. Pretty intense and paranoia-inducing stuff, complete with Vega's raving maniac shouts and mutterings. As dangerous and experimental as anything in Vega's impressive 30-year back catalogue, 'Station' is tuned to the frequency of America circa 2008 A.D., on the edge of socio-economic collapse and growing consumer distrust. Vega's never been so necessary or relevant. (Blast First/Mute)