Visceral Volume

Monolithic Undertow: In Search of Sonic Oblivion, Harry Sword (White Rabbit 2021) / Heavy: How Metal Changes the Way We See the World, Dan Franklin (Constable 2020)

I have only one problem with Sunn O))). They’re crap. Well, I have two problems with Sunn O))). They’re crap and they’re pretentious. Sometimes they sound like a heavily stoned Black Sabbath roadie having a slow strum at one of Tony Iommi’s untuned guitars circa 1973. Sometimes they don’t sound as good as that. As for Electric Wizard: they’re crap without being pretentious. I wish it were otherwise, but that’s how I hear it.

Both of these bands feature heavily in these two books by keyly committed core components of the Quietus community. Fortunately, although Sunn O))) and Electric Wizard are boring to listen to, they’re interesting to read about. The same applies to lots of other bands you’ll find here: boring on the ear, interesting in the eye. And the books aren’t as badly written as I feared they would be once I knew they were by keyly committed core components of the Quietus community. In fact, they weren’t badly written at all. Plus, it was a pleasant surprise to find Dan Franklin writing so much about literature in Heavy: How Metal Changes the Way We See the World. Okay, the appearance of Nietzsche wasn’t much of a surprise, but the appearance of Tolstoy was. Heavy is the smaller of these two volumes about visceral volume but it covers much more ground: all kinds of heavy metal, from the lumpen to the lupine, from Iron Maiden to Black Sabbath, from Morbid Angel to Tool.

Monolithic Undertow started out as a history of doom metal, Sword says, but he decided to write about something that’s important in doom but not confined to doom: drones, or continual notes that transport the listener to new psychological and aesthetic places. Spiritual places too: the Master Musicians of Joujouka get a lot of space. Which is fair enough. But bands like Black Flag get space too and I don’t think they deserve it. Sometimes the criterion for inclusion seems to have been set too wide.

And sometimes it seems to have been set not by music but by politics. One very obvious candidate for inclusion in Monolithic Undertow was the British noisenik Matthew Bower, his band Skullflower and various other projects of his. But the Quietus pronounced an anathema on Bower in 2019 after it unearthed sickening evidence that he had neo-Nazi sympathies and (even more sickeningly) had voted for Brexit. Quite rightly, Sword hasn’t defied the anathema and hasn’t given Bower any of the attention or respect that he would otherwise have deserved. The Quietus itself certainly thought him worthy of respect once: see “Sitting Under A Waterfall: An Interview With Skullflower” from 2011. And you will find “Skullflower” in the index of Monolithic Undertow. But only because the band is mentioned in a list, not because it’s discussed, analysed or praised in any way.

Okay, I’ve never liked anything I’ve heard by Skullflower myself, but I would have been interested to read more about them. I couldn’t and I assume that’s because Sword doesn’t like Matthew Bower’s politics, not because he doesn’t like or isn’t interested in Bower’s music. Quite right too. So no Skullflower or Bower. Otherwise there’s a lot in the book and a lot of interesting philosophical and aesthetic ideas to go with the musical analysis and appreciation.

Read Full Post »

Shaman On U!

Copendium: An Expedition into the Rock’n’Roll Underworld, Julian Cope (Faber and Faber 2012)

A big book with big ideas about BIIIIIG sounds. As Cope himself might put it. I’d always been vaguely interested in him – what I chanced to hear of his music seemed intelligent, quirky and original – but never bothered to investigate further. But I knew that he liked Krautrock and stone circles, so it was a surprise to pick this book off the shelf and discover that he also liked Pentagram. And Blue Öyster Cult. And Grand Funk Railroad. And Van Halen.

Plus a bunch of obscure stuff. Very obscure. There’s a Danskrocksampler at the end of the book, including Steppeneuvlene’s “Itsi-Bitsi” from 1967. But whether it’s famous or obscure, Cope brings the same enthusiasm and open mind:

The problem with someone like Kim Fowley is that the intellectuals know that, on a long-term, sensible career level, he doesn’t mean any of what he says. So they dismiss him because they’ve fallen for the idea that you gotta mean what you say in the first place for it to have any value. Baloney! The innate truth of rock’n’roll shamanism is such that it can still ooze out and inform the world, even from the works of those who claim to be engaged in nothing more than some kind of parody. (Review of Kim Fowley’s Outrageous, 1967, pg. 32)

The writing is always fun, occasionally fiery, as he explores music from many decades and many genres: rock, heavy metal, doom, drone, glam, psychedelia, and more. There are also a lot of autobiography and digression in it, as he draws parallels between the music and his own life and interests, like landscapes and (pre)history. But I think he uses more words than he needs to. He isn’t writing Guardianese, but he gestures towards it at times. And I think his enthusiasm for weed and magic mushrooms must have led some of his fans into bad places:

Although the double-vinyl artwork is huge, gatefold and magnificent, the CD version of Dopesmoker is the best option overall, because you can get utterly narnered once you’ve put it on and not have to get up for an hour and ten minutes. (Review of Sleep’s Dopesmoker, 2003, pg. 367)

Cope doesn’t spend a lot of his time utterly narnered. Like Vox Day, he’s one of those people who get a lot done and make life more interesting for everyone. Copendium is a good example. Big book, big ideas, BIIIIIG sounds.

Read Full Post »