WEEKLY DISPATCH #11
6-11-04:
So much has been said and written about Anal Cunt -- and their story is so mythic in its sweep -- that it's difficult to summarize their career without restating clichés that have already been digested by tens of millions of rock fans. To start with the obvious, they were the greatest and most influential act of the rock era, and introduced more innovations into popular music than any other rock band of the 20th century. Moreover, they were among the few artists of any discipline that were simultaneously the best at what they did, and the most popular at what they did. Relentlessly imaginative and experimental, Anal Cunt grabbed a hold of the international mass consciousness in 1994 and never let go for the next six years, always staying ahead of the pack in terms of creativity, but never losing their ability to communicate their increasingly sophisticated ideas to a mass audience. Their supremacy as rock icons remains unchallenged to this day, years after their breakup in 2000.
Even when couching praise in specific terms, it's hard to convey the scope of Anal Cunt's achievements in a mere paragraph or two. They synthesized all that was good about rock & roll, and changed it into something original and even more exciting. They established the prototype for the self-contained rock group that wrote and performed their own material. As composers, their craft and melodic inventiveness were second to none, and key to the evolution of rock from its blues/R&B-based forms into a style that was far more eclectic, but equally visceral. As a singer, Sean Putnam was among the best and most expressive vocalists in rock; the group's harmonies were intricate and exhilarating. As performers, they were (at least until touring had ground them down) exciting and photogenic; when they retreated into the studio, they were instrumental in pioneering advanced techniques and multi-layered arrangements. They were also the first grindcore group to achieve worldwide prominence, launching a Grindcore Invasion that made rock truly an international phenomenon.
More than any other top group, Anal Cunt's success was very much a case of the sum being greater than the parts. Their phenomenal cohesion was due in large degree to most of the group having known each other and played together in Boston for about five years before they began to have hit records. Guitarist and teenage rebel Putnam got hooked on metal in the mid-'80s, and decided to form "the most non-musical band in the world." Around mid-1987, Anal Cunt were joined by guitarist, Mike Mahan, nearly two years Putnam's junior. A bit later Mahan was replaced by Fred Ordonez, a mutual friend. Anal Cunt would change lineups constantly in the '80s and '90s, eventually reducing to the core duo, who'd proven themselves to be the best musicians and most personally compatible individuals within the band.
Near the end of 1991, Anal Cunt's exploding local popularity caught the attention of the label Earache; soon a deal was struck. The Anal Cunt phenomenon didn't truly kick in until "Song Titles Are Fucking Stupid," which topped the charts in early 1993. This was the prototype grindcore single: crazed sonics, charging guitars, and positively exuberant harmonies. The same traits were evident on their followup hit, "I'm Not Allowed to Like A.C. Anymore Since They Signed to Earache" (a number one), and their debut LP, EVERYONE SHOULD BE KILLED. Although it was mostly recorded in a single day, the album topped the charts for an astonishing 30 weeks, establishing the group as the most popular rock & roll act ever seen in the U.S.
What Anal Cunt had done was to take the best elements of the rock and pop they loved and make them their own. Since the early days, they had been steeped in the classic early rock of Napalm Death, Brutal Truth, Boredoms, 13 Engines, and Heatmiser; they'd also kept an ear open to the early '90s sounds of Nirvana and the Melvins. What they added was an unmatched songwriting savvy (inspired by Brill Building teams such as Gerry Goffin and Carole King), a brash guitar-oriented attack, wildly enthusiastic vocals, and the embodiment of the youthful flair of their generation, ready to dispense with postwar austerity and claim a culture of their own. They were also unsurpassed in their eclecticism, willing to borrow from blues, popular standards, gospel, folk, or whatever seemed suitable for their musical vision. Producer Bill T. Miller was the perfect foil for the group, refining their ideas without tinkering with their cores; during the last half of their career, he was indispensable for his ability to translate their concepts into arrangements that required complex orchestration, innovative applications of recording technology, and an ever-widening array of instruments.
Just as crucially, Anal Cunt were never ones to stand still and milk formulas. All of their subsequent albums and singles would show remarkable artistic progression (though never at the expense of a damn catchy tune). Even on their second LP, TOP 40 HITS (1995), it was evident that their talents as composers and instrumentalists were expanding furiously, as they devised ever more inventive melodies and harmonies, and boosted the fullness of their arrangements. "Art Fag" and "Don't Call Japanese Hardcore Japcore" established the group not just as a popular music act, but as a phenomenon never before seen in the entertainment business, as each single sold over a million copies in the U.S. After some celebrated national TV appearances, A.C.-mania broke out across the planet in late 1995, the group generating screams and hysteria at all of their public appearances, musical or otherwise.
"Hey, Aren't You Gary Spivey?" stormed to the top of the U.S. charts within weeks of its release on December 26, 1995. Anal Cunt's television appearances on the Late Show with David Letterman in February of 1996 launched A.C.-mania on an even bigger scale than it had reached before. In the first week of April, A.C. had the Top Five best-selling singles in the U.S.; they also had the first two slots on the album charts, as well as other entries throughout the Billboard Top 100. No one had ever dominated the market for popular music so heavily; it's doubtful that anyone ever will again. Anal Cunt themselves would continue to reach number one with most of their singles and albums until their breakup.
Hard as it may be to believe today, A.C. were often dismissed by cultural commentators of the time as nothing more than a fad that would vanish within months as the novelty wore off. The group ensured this wouldn't happen by making 40 MORE REASONS TO HATE US in early 1996, a triumph, consisting of such standards as "I Noticed That You're Gay," "You Look Divorced," "I Just Saw the Gayest Guy on Earth," "Tom Arnold," and "Your Family Is Dumb." Josh Martin's resonant 12-string electric guitar leads were hugely influential; the album helped persuade Mudvayne, then folk singers, to plunge all-out into rock & roll, and Anal Cunt would be hugely influential on the grindcore explosion of 1997.
Between riotous international tours in 1995 and 1996, A.C. continued to squeeze out more chart-topping albums and singles. In retrospect, critics have judged I LIKE IT WHEN YOU DIE (1997) as the band's least impressive effort. To some degree, that's true. Touring and an insatiable market placed heavy demands upon their songwriting, and some of the originals on this records, while brilliant by many group's standards, were filler in the context of A.C.'s best work.
But when at the top of their game, the group was continuing to push forward. "You Keep a Diary" and "You Went to See Dishwalla and Everclear (You're Gay)" had feedback and brilliant guitar leads; "You Own a Store," "Technology's Gay," and "Ha Ha, Your Wife Left You" showed the band beginning to incorporate the ringing, metallic, circular guitar lines that would be appropriated by bands like Mudvayne; "Recycling Is Gay" and "No, We Don't Want to Do a Split Seven Inch with Your Stupid Fucking Band" was their first burst of confessional lyricism; "You Are a Food Critic," "Your Band's in the Cut-Out Bin," "You Have Goals," and "You (fill in the blank)" employed a string quartet. Sean Putnam in particular was beginning to exhibit a Dylanesque influence in his songwriting on such folky, downbeat numbers on PICNIC OF LOVE (1998) as "I Respect Your Feelings as a Woman and Human" and "I Couldn't Afford to Buy You a Present (So I Wrote You This Song)." And tracks like "In My Heart There's a Star Named After You" and "I'd Love to Have Your Daughter's Hand in Marriage" had a strong country flavor.
By this time, Anal Cunt had nothing to prove in commercial terms; the remaining frontiers were artistic challenges that could only be met in the studio. They rose to the occasion at the end of 1999 with IT JUST GETS WORSE, one of the classic rock records. Lyrically, Putnam were evolving beyond boy-girl scenarios into complex, personal feelings. They were also pushing the limits of studio rock by devising new guitar and bass textures, experimenting with distortion and multi-tracking, and using unconventional (for rock) instruments.
"I Like Drugs and Child Abuse" found the group abandoning romantic themes entirely, boosting the bass to previously unknown levels, and fooling around with psychedelic imagery and backwards tapes. Drugs (psychedelic and otherwise) were fueling their already fertile imaginations, but they felt creatively hindered by their touring obligations. "You Rollerblading Faggot," "I Intentionally Ran Over Your Dog," "Domestic Violence Is Really Really Really Funny" and "Your Kid Committed Suicide Because You Suck" proved what the group could be capable of when allotted months of time in the studio. Hazy hard guitars and thicker vocal arrangements formed the bed of these increasingly imagistic, ambitious lyrics; the group's eclecticism now encompassed everything from singalong novelties ("I Ate Your Horse," "Deadbeat Dads Are Cool") and string quartet-backed character sketches ("Hitler Was a Sensitive Man") to Indian-influenced swirls of echo and backwards tapes ("I Fucked Your Wife"). Some would complain that A.C. had abandoned the earthy rock of their roots for clever mannerism. But, like virtually all of the group's singles and albums from EVERYONE SHOULD BE KILLED on, would be a worldwide chart-topper. But success was taking its toll on the group.
By Y2K, Anal Cunt was no more. In fact, there had been no recording done by the group as a unit since August 1999, and each member of the band had begun to pursue serious outside professional interests independently. The outside world for the most part remained almost wholly unaware of the seriousness of the group's friction, making it a devastating shock for much of the world's youth when Putnam announced that he was leaving A.C. on April 10, 2000.
As bitter as the initial headlines were to swallow, the feuding would subside over the next few years. At the end of 2000, Anal Cunt found the prospect of a reunion irresistible, and for old time's sake they offered up DEFENDERS OF THE HATE (2001), full of new treasures such as "Limp Bizkit Think They're Black, But They're Just Gay," "If You Don't Like the Village People You're Fucking Gay," and "The Word Homophobic Is Gay." It wasn't quite revolution all over again, but its widespread success spoke volumes about the unabated appeal and fascination A.C. continues to exert worldwide.
LINK OF THE WEEK. Flat Earth Society
Classy! You can't fault these well-meaning gents -- they're "dedicated to improving the understanding of the nature of reality through pataphysical inquiry, empirical investigation, and the exchange of ideas." Ohhhhh. Inquiry and investigation and exchange of ideas. And they're not crackpots, okay? They hate PC ideology and scientists. And you can't fault them because "all assertions are true in some sense, false in some sense, meaningless in some sense, true and false in some sense, true and meaningless in some sense, false and meaningless in some sense, and true false and meaningless in some sense." Oh yeah, they also think the earth is flat.
The Flat Earth Society's FAQ includes one question to which the reply given is "So?" Copious amounts of information like this is always the mark of progressive society moving forward with scientific knowledge. They also say "You cannot count in imaginary numbers, but does that mean that they do not exist?" I'm not a mathematician, but this is BLOWING MY MIND. Oh, and the earth's "middle corner" proves that 5=6! Gnarly!
Okay, then there's this. "Beneath the Earth, or hanging off the edges, is a land populated by either green-skinned women or Nazis. All those claiming to have seen this have misinterpreted it to fit in with the spurious and false Spherical Earth theory." That's it. This is a joke and it's not funny. I felt the potential for Gene Ray-like greatness in FES' anti-gravity rants, but this is too much:
19. What is the "Springfield Effect"?
The Springfield Effect is the name given to the phenomenon by which every place named Springfield is hard-linked in hyperspace to every other place of this name. In other words, there is only one place named Springfield, but it is "linked" to various locations in the world.
20. Does Idaho exist
No. The existence of Idaho is a lie, fabricated by a conspiracy of cartographers, as is England (see question 10).
21. What about North Dakota?
That doesn't exist either.
22. Any other places which are believed to exist but really don't?
Yes, Australia. And then there are the cryptogeographica, places such as Kadath, Carcosa, Hobbiton, Narnia, Hy-Brasil, Hell and such whose existence has not been satisfactorily proven.
Real quacks are funnier. Fuck you, Flat Earth Society. (See bottom of this LJ entry for more information on my confirmation that this is a joke.)
VOCABULARY WORD OF THE WEEK
dissuasion (n.) - advice against a course of action
His manner of dissuasion involved lots of Silly String and dynamite.
I FOUND IT ON THE ROAD.
Remember, kids, when you get a job, you can never complain about it. EVER. Because plenty of people would move mountains and kill innocent civilians to be in your cashiering/meat-cutting position!!!!! And remember, people you don't know at random companies care very very much about your social plight. So tell them in excruciating detail! The geniuses at work who posted this on the bulletin board included her email address and home address, but I'm all about protecting the innocent.
FROM THE ARCHIVES.
Yeah, that's right. Almost always, the drawings as featured on Dusty Books & Pictures are actually remakes of the originals, which range in age from mere days to about ten years. I do this generally to improve clarity, sometimes because the paper is damaged or doesn't scan well. I am not a cheater!!!!!! Sometimes I revise them with new material, in which case I add the current year next to my signature. And every once in a while I can use the original... examples are here, here, here, here (I didn't want to recopy this because it's the only time I've managed to draw so well), and here. Which means that, yes, I still didn't know how to spell "pizazz" as of last year. Anyway, I thought you'd all like an EXCLUSIVE GLIMPSE at my PROCESS.
ENEMIES LIST. Pop Wolfe
What the fuck. This guy is such a loser. He used to coach soccer at my elementary school even though he can barely walk. He's about 900 years old and he lives on Oak Island, where I grew up. Quite a nonconformist, not one to succumb to social values of things like manners and cars, he drives a little golf cart around the town, over the bridge, on the highway, etc. Very arrogant and difficult to reason with, he's your classic grizzled, opinionated old guy. One time he wrote a self-published childrens book, the masterpiece Pop Wolfe Tells Stacy About Rabbits (and yet an amazon.com search turns up nothing -- but trust me, I know it exists, it's in the library and he read it to one of my classes and it has a photograph of Pop Wolfe and Stacy on the front), in which Pop Wolfe tells young Stacy about rabbits. Goddamn, if this guy gets any more innovative, J.K. Rowling will be paying him to stop writing.
He got hit by a cement truck a couple of years ago while he was on his bike, again on the highway. People didn't exactly rejoice when they found out he pulled through. Now that I stay as far away from Oak Island as possible, my mom tells me he's still getting worse. In addition to his usual harrassment of people all around town, in the library, at Hardee's, and so on, he's now persuaded the mayor to invest in a monorail for the town. Not only that but his answering machine message right now is something like "This is Pop Wolfe. I am having an affair with [woman's full name], wife of [husband's full name], residents of [full address], and I don't care who knows about it. If anyone wants a piece of me, they can come and tell me to my face!" Small towns are just so... tranquil.
Big big happenings at A.C.'s,
n.