(Translated from my original Italian text by Evan Hauffen)
Live Skull was an art-noise band founded in 1982 by guitarists Marc C. and
Tom Paine. Their initial self-titled EP of 1984 (for Massive) showcased how
their macabre universe emerged from the intersection of the gothic sound of Joy
Division and the bleakness of Glenn Branca. The
anguish stemmed from the guitar sound rather than from dark vocal tones.
The band's underlying schizophrenia was revealed by Bringing Home The Bait (Homestead, 1985). On one hand, the quartet managed to produce pop-hardcore reminiscent of Husker Du (with tracks like Glee Product and Skin Job, classics of the genre), though violently fractured rhythms and declamatory vocals resulted in more subliminal vibrations (Sparky), sometimes veering into dissonances and acid "trip" slowdowns (Brains Big Enough). On the other hand, they frequently mimicked dark punk atmospheres (Ha Ha Ditch, Houseboy, and
the instrumental Goodbye To The Uninvited Guests)
or punk-funk (with Wisdom And Gravy), all done with a plethora of
distortions, in the style of the English bands.
Soon, the group began to accentuate their inclination towards dark,
depressive atmospheres and horror-funky cadences (Debbie's Headache),
often delving into guitar orgies similar to Sonic Youth (With The Light), with some voodoo-billy fairy tale elements (Swingtime).
Their 1986 album, Cloud One (Homestead), was their most accessible work: Fort Belvedere revisits voodoo-billy rhythms but in their ultra-obsessive manner; I'll Break You is their dissonant take on the bolero. The underlying neurosis permeates through the relentless syncopation of the title track and the hysterical screeches of The Loved One. It is this addiction to neurosis that creates the extremely
elongated mantra of Bootcamp. Although some
tracks indulge in more foolish chanting over the harshest guitar noise, the
overall tone remains sufficiently alienated to be terrifying. Beyond the thorny
exchanges between the two guitars, the work of bassist Marnie
Greenholz and drummer Mark Lo is prominently
displayed (see the tribal and almost epic Bell Shaped Heads).
From Dusted (Homestead, 1987) onward, the band returned to the
cacophonic intransigence of their early days, with new singer Thalia Zedek (ex-Uzi and Dangerous Birds), whose monochord, unmodulated register became one of the many "noises" (not sounds) in their symphony. By this point, the band had become a quintet with two women (bassist Marnie Greenholz and Zedek) and three men (founding guitarists Marc C. and Tom Paine, and drummer Rich Hutchins). The presence of the new singer had a devastating effect on the sound, which not only returned to its cacophonic origins but also intensified all the most challenging aspects of its structure: raw timbres, jagged guitar work, obsessive tribal rhythms, and apocalyptic screams. The result was even darker and more tragic, almost on par with Swans. Machete and Slugfest are not songs but dark premonitions in a sinister film noir-like gloom. When (in Kream and Fat Of The Land) harmonies disintegrate into dissonances and dissolve, the atmosphere becomes one of nightmares. The masterpiece might be Debbie's Headache, a voodoo-billy where the album's terrifying tension finds a more accessible format.
The tortured personality of the new leader, and her guttural, masculine register, are front and center on the EP Snuffer (Caroline, 1988), which also marked a move toward a more digestible form of their anti-rock. Zedek's satanic exorcisms drive the voodoo-billy hardcore of Was, the noisiest and most frenetic track of their career, the gothic litanies of Chair, propelled by feverish cadences, and the sinister ritual of Straw, steeped in rumblings and vocals of immense dread, even touching on the more fiery tones of Patti Smith in Step. Snuffer could be the band’s masterpiece, with guitar interweaving worthy of
Television
and Sonic Youth, and phenomenal rhythm work, entirely detached from the vocals.
With Sonda Andersson of
Rat At Rat R replacing Greenholz, the final album, Positraction (Caroline, 1989), tried to make the sound more accessible, injecting heavy metal adrenaline into tracks like Circular Saw, arranging Riches House with harmonica, bells, and conga, and slowing Caleb into a lattice of psychedelic chords (with viola and tam-tam). Zedek rides like a mad witch on the most frenzied track, Demon Rail. It was the ultimate attempt to impose order on the chronic disorder of this conceptually strong band's songs. But the fate of Live Skull is to be remembered as important innovators and catalysts of
the New York scene, but not for a legendary song.
Caught between a
Captain Beefheart-ian
ferocity, the arcane tribalism of dark punk, and minimalist nightmares akin to
Sonic Youth,
Live Skull represents a very degraded stage of punk emotionality.
Don't Get Any on You (1987) is a live album.
