Mike Kelley, R.I.P.

The artist and musician Mike Kelley has died, apparently by his own hand (from Blouin Artinfo):

Artist Mike Kelley has passed away at his home in Los Angeles, having apparently taken his own life. The tragic news was confirmed to BLOUIN ARTINFO by Helene Winer, of New York’s Metro Pictures gallery, a long-time associate of the artist.

“It is totally shocking that someone would decide to do this, someone who has success and renown and options,” said Winer. “It’s extremely sad.” She added that the artist had been depressed.

Kelley was born in 1954 in a suburb of Detroit, Michigan. He became involved in the city’s music scene as a teen, and while a student at the University of Michigan, formed the influential proto-punk band Destroy All Monsters with fellow artists Jim Shaw, Niagara, and Cary Loren (a retrospective devoted to Destroy All Monsters was held at L.A.’s Prism gallery last year). Together, the band hatched a style of performance that skirted the edge of performance art.

After graduating college in 1976, he moved to Los Angeles to attend the California Institute of the Arts, studying alongside teachers like John Baldessari and Laurie Anderson. Music continued to be a constant passion: he formed another band, “Poetics,” with fellow CalArts students John Miller and Tony Oursler.

Kelley’s career took off in the early 1990s, with solo shows at the Whitney, LACMA, and other international venues. He and Oursler organized a well-recived installation — a kind of monument to punk — at Documenta X in 1997. In the early 2000s, he began exhibiting with Gagosian Gallery after 20 years with Metro Pictures.

For his 2005 exhibition “Day is Done,” Kelley filled Gagosian with found yearbook photos, video footage, and automated furniture, prompting New York Magazine critic Jerry Saltz to describe the show as an example of “clusterfuck aesthetics.” More conventionally, he was associated with the notion of “abject art,” highlighting the irrational and the repulsive.

Kelley’s work will be included in the upcoming Whitney Biennial. It is the eighth time his work has been included in the biannual exhibition.

Perhaps best known in the music world for his cover of Sonic Youth’s Dirty album, Kelley was also a founding member of Destroy All Monsters and Poetics, and worked with many musicians over the course of his career.

The Best (and Worst) of 2009

This week’s LEO Weekly contains a short top-five list by yours truly, and here it is for your perusal — Top Five Albums of 2009:

1. Blues Control, “Local Flavor” (Siltbreeze)

Russ Waterhouse and Lea Cho of Blues Control have delivered the goods with “Local Flavor” (full disclosure: Russ and Lea are friends, and I was present at their first show a few years back). That is, if the goods were super-hallucinogenic drugs that didn’t leave you damaged, but rather took you on a midnight journey through Tangier without leaving your living room. From beat-laden not-quite-dance workouts, to deconstructed guitar licks, to massive underwater drones, to ringing alarm clocks, there isn’t a record this year I’ve heard as wonderfully evocative of out-of-mind experiences.

2. Group Doueh, “Treeg Salaam” (Sublime Frequencies)

While it might put off some world music purists (and who do those jokers think they are, anyway?), the lo-fi nature of Group Doueh’s recordings are not only more “authentic” than, say, bringing the band to Paris or London to record in some sterile studio, they’re also far more joyous. Listening to “Treeg Salaam” at a loud volume, you feel like you’re standing in some Western Saharan souk, watching guitarist Doueh and company tear it up – and seeing them have a great time while they’re doing so.

3. The Phantom Family Halo, “Monoliths and These Flowers Never Die” (Karate Body)

Generally, most rock bands these days can’t pull off the sprawling double album, once a 1970s hallmark. But The Phantom Family Halo manages to do so, with aplomb. After multiple listens, I’m not entirely sure what the overarching theme or concept behind “Monoliths and These Flowers Never Die” is, or even if there is one, but this double album is executed so brilliantly, I’m not sure it matters. Hopefully the rest of the country will start paying attention to what these local greats are up to.

4. Mouthus, “Divisionals” (Ecstatic Peace!)

Back in May I wrote in LEO about Mouthus, the rackety, noisy guitar-and-drums duo of Brian Sullivan and Nate Nelson, and their album “Divisionals,” one of the mellowest, yet undeniably great albums I’ve heard this year. I even went so preposterously far as to write that “Divisionals” contains “a mysterious set of cyclic drones, which interlock and mesh within each other, much as the strands of DNA within our cells.” Well, Nate came through Louisville in August, and told me that “Divisionals” was performed on synths, a departure from their usual m.o. There you go.

5. Extra Golden, “Thank You Very Quickly” (Thrill Jockey)

Despite listening to more music from around the world than ever, I find that not very much of it is by current bands. The recent explosion of reissues of 1960s and 1970s African music is far more compelling than most new African bands, sadly. Extra Golden is an exception to that rule, and perhaps it’s because the half-Kenyan, half-American band has an extra rock element to it reminiscent of 1970s classics. Regardless, we’ve been lucky to see them twice in Louisville in the past year, and that they release consistently great albums.

Other albums that I’d have given honorable mention to, if space allowed: Bill Orcutt, A New Way to Pay Old Debts (Palialia); Sperm, Shh! (DeStijl); Sir Richard Bishop, The Freak of Araby (Drag City); Oneohtrix Point Never, Zones Without People (Arbor); Omar Souleyman, Highway to Hassake: Folk and Pop Sounds of Syria (Sublime Frequencies); Jim O’Rourke, I’m Happy, and I’m singing and a 1, 2, 3, 4 (Editions Mego); Kurt Vile, Childish Prodigy (Matador); Orchestre Poly-Rythmo de Cotonou, The Voudon Effect: Funk & Sato from Benin’s Obscure Labels 1972 – 1975 (Analog Africa); Death, …For the Whole World to See (Drag City); Tony Conrad/Genesis Breyer P-Orridge, Taking Issue (Dais).

Best Shows I Attended in 2009: Throbbing Gristle/Emeralds at Logan Square Auditorium, Chicago; Daniel Higgs at Lisa’s Oak Street Lounge, Louisville; Joe Manning/Doug Paisley/Nathan Salsburg at the Swan Dive, Louisville (full disclosure: I booked this show); Endless Boogie/Cross at the Swan Dive, Louisville (I also booked this show); Sapat/Blues Control/Softcheque/Raw Thug at Lisa’s Oak Street Lounge, Louisville; Black Juju (The Alice Cooper Cover Band) at Lisa’s Oak Street Lounge, Louisville; Young Widows/Maserati/The Genitalmen at Zanzabar, Louisville (full disclosure: I djed at this show); The Julia Schagene/Furry Bits at Jeff Komara’s house, Louisville.

Worst Things to Happen in 2009: The deaths of Rowland S. Howard, Jack Rose, Jerry Fuchs, Tony Bailey, Rashied Ali, Maryanne Amacher, Hugh Hopper, Max Neuhaus, Michael Jackson, Ron Asheton, Randy Bewley, Lux Interior, Luther Thomas, Mick Cocks, Sirone, and probably many more that I’m forgetting.

You can read the rest of the feature, including the top-five picks by the rest of LEO‘s music critics here: http://leoweekly.com/music/music-top-fives-2009.

Jack Rose, R.I.P.

I’m almost at a lost for words, this time, to write an obituary, once again, for a fantastic musician who I was lucky to consider a friend. I’m in my office, aka our spare room, lying on the air mattress that we use when out-of-towners come to visit, with my beagles, listening to the new Bill Orcutt record, and thinking about Jack Rose, and how Jack Rose passed away today.

Jack was just here, in late September, as he played a show I booked on my birthday, and he stayed the night. I had the next day off so we drove around town in search of records, soul food, and rare bourbons. He was stoked because he found a Verlaines record at Underground Sounds for $7. We also had a great lunch at this soul food joint way out where Broadway ends at Shawnee Park with Kris Abplanalp and Neil. We went to Old Town Liquors, and Jack bought a bunch of good and obscure bourbons, then he left. Needless to say, it was a really good hang.

Aside from the many other times I saw him play, another fond memory was when Jack played a show I booked in Greenpoint, Brooklyn, with Major Stars and Miminokoto at the Palace Tavern. The place was way too crowded, and Major Stars nearly brought the house down with their blistering, super-loud and awesome opening set (Wayne Rogers, you are the man, and I’m glad New York’s Finest didn’t haul you away that night). Jack played second, just him and his guitar, and delivered the same sort of intensity at 1/4 the volume. Even though I’d seen him many times, that was the night his playing really clicked for me. And despite all the chaos of probably 200 people in a space made for 50, noise complaints from the neighbors, and the two bartender/owners who seemed like they were ready to kill me and Todd P., it was totally worth it.

Anyway, Jack Rose is gone, and the world has lost a singular talent. And people who knew him lost a fun, fun-loving, laid-back-yet-intense guy, who was no bullshit artist, but the real deal. Rest in peace, Jack.

Jerry Fuchs, R.I.P.

(Image of Jerry Fuchs from the New York Times.)

By now, the unfortunate and tragic death of Jerry Fuchs on Saturday night is common knowledge. However, I felt I had to write some sort of obituary, though late, if only to acknowledge how great a friend Jerry was to me.

Maserati, one of Jerry’s main music concerns, played here in Louisville at the Zanzabar back in September, and I was lucky enough to be able to DJ the gig. Doing so meant a lot to me, as Jerry and I had been friends since I lived in Brooklyn in the middle part of this decade. Unfortunately, I hadn’t talked with Jerry since I left Brooklyn to come home to Louisville in October, 2007, but the minute Maserati’s van pulled up to the Zanzabar, it was like only a few days had gone by since we’d last seen each other. We partied on into the night, then lunched at Zanzabar the next day, then Jerry and his compatriots were nice enough to drive me back to work for my double shift.

Strangely enough, we didn’t meet originally through music, but through football: we both used to watch Steelers games over at Doug Mosurock‘s apartment. It only dawned on me later that Jerry missed a week or two of games here and there because he was on tour. But, again, when we’d run into each other on the street, at a party, at Daddy’s or Sal’s Pizza or wherever, it always seemed that time hadn’t passed at all, due to Jerry’s generosity of spirit.

A number of Jerry’s friends have written some fantastic remembrances of him, and for a wonderfully detailed portait of an excellent person, please read Henry Owings’ entry over at Chunklet. I don’t have much more to add, other than I miss my friend very much.

UPDATE: If you’re in New York City, there will be a memorial service for Jerry at Enid’s in Greenpoint, Brooklyn this Thursday, November 12th, between 7 and 11 PM. Enid’s is located, of course, at 560 Manhattan Avenue, at the corner of Driggs, right by the park. Wish I could be there.

Maryanne Amacher, R.I.P.

Unfortunately, I’m seeing unconfirmed reports that Maryanne Amacher, one of America’s most important sound artists, has died today. Though we never met (she taught at Bard, though well after I graduated), one of my favorite concert experiences of all time has to be seeing Amacher “live” in Chicago (she generally declined to “perform,” preferring sound installation work, but did actually perform in Chicago at 6ODUM when it was a functioning venue, as part of the LAMPO series). Her few releases, for John Zorn’s Tzadik label, are absolute masterpieces of pure sound and volume.

Tony Bailey, R.I.P.

(Picture of Phantom Family Halo, with Tony Bailey on the far right, from Metromix.)

This morning, right after waking up, I read the news on Louisville Hardcore that Tony Bailey passed last night. While we weren’t close, I’ve known Tony since, shit, I can’t remember, probably since I was 15 or 16 years old, through Louisville’s punk rock scene. Throughout the time that I’ve known him (almost twenty years, as I turn 34 this Monday), I can’t think of anyone who has been as consistently kind, funny, and sweet as Tony. His smile was one of the coolest things on the planet, and I can’t remember a time over those nearly twenty years when he didn’t give me a big hug, or a fist pound, no matter where or when or in what situation we might have seen each other.

I met, and knew, Tony first and foremost through music, and even at the young age of 14, he was one of the most talented drummers I’ve ever had the privilege to witness live. As a member of Crain, Parlour, Aerial M, Verktum, Dead Child, Rude Weirdo, the Phantom Family Halo, and most recently as of two weeks ago, Black Juju, his Alice Cooper tribute band (as well as many other incredible bands you may have never heard of), Tony always inspired me with his raw power, incredible precision, and most importantly, his ultra-fantastic feel for how powerful rock drums should sound.

During the years that I lived in places other than Louisville, I was lucky enough to get to promote a few shows for bands which Tony was touring with, or occasionally see him on tours when I wasn’t booking, or if he was just visiting a city other than Louisville to see someone else play. When I returned here two years ago, I didn’t run into Tony as much I would’ve liked, perhaps due to the Louisville music scene’s fragmented nature in this post-hardcore, post-all-ages, internet-music era, I don’t know. What I do know is that, in twenty years of knowing Tony, I probably didn’t tell him enough how much he and his music was an inspiration to me, and how our friendship — however limited — was important to me.

UPDATE, 12:15 AM, 10/4/2009: From Skull Alley’s web site:

A memorial gathering for Anthony J. Bailey will be held this Sunday, October 4th from 6pm to 10pm at Skull Alley, 1017 E. Broadway, Louisville, KY

There will be an opportunity to share your stories and memories, aloud or on paper. If you cannot attend and would like something read, please Email it to fncyatb at gmail dot com All are encouraged to bring finger/appetizer type foods. No alcohol/beer will be served and none may be brought in. Beverages will be provided by Skull Alley.

Your favorite pictures of Tony are wanted and needed for a slide show, send them to fncyatb at gmail dot com

Hugh Hopper, R.I.P.

(Image of Hugh Hopper taken from Wikipedia.)

I’m seeing news on the internet — though not confirmed by any news organizations yet — that former Soft Machine bassist Hugh Hopper has died. His Wikipedia entry, which mentions his year-long struggle with leukemia, gives the date as “June 2009.” No additional information is available on his official website.

Hopper’s 1973 album 1984 has long been a favorite of mine. His first solo album after leaving the Soft Machine, 1984 combines Hopper’s excellent jazz playing with some experimental processes, especially tape loops, to great effect. It’s fitting that this album, based on the futuristic novel by George Orwell, still sounds ahead of its time.

(1984 cover image from http://www.progarchives.com.)

Download 1984 here.

Randy Bewley, R.I.P.

(Photo of Randy Bewley by Michael Lachowski, from Athens Music Junkie.)

We received some sad news yesterday, that Pylon guitarist Randy Bewley had passed away:

This hurts so much to write. It has been a very hard day for us all in Athens. We have lost one of our dearest friends. A critical part of our community has been taken from us and he will be missed sorely.

Randy Bewley, known to the world as the guitarist in Pylon, passed away on Wednesday, February 25, 2009 shortly before 5 in the afternoon. He suffered a heart attack while driving on Barber street in Athens on Monday. His van proceeded to drift off the road and tip over. No other people or vehicles were involved. Rescue workers did CPR at the scene and he was taken quickly to the hospital where he was placed in ICU. His family and bandmates were there by his side.

And here’s a full piece from the Atlanta Journal-Constitution: http://www.accessatlanta.com/entertainment/content/entertainment/stories/2009/02/25/randy_bewley_pylon.html?cxntlid=thbz_hm.

We’re so very bummed about this. In November of 1989, we saw Pylon open for R.E.M. at Rupp Arena in Lexington, and had our minds blown. We already knew about Pylon due to their ties to R.E.M., but seeing them live was another thing entirely. Earlier that day, we met them at an in-store signing they did at ear X-tacy in Louisville, and they were the nicest, sweetest folks. Bewley’s brittle yet melodic guitar playing clearly was a pretty big influence on Athens music, and it totally sucks that we didn’t get to see Pylon during their most recent bit of activity.

Also, if you don’t have it, you should pick up DFA Records’ swell reissue of Pylon’s first album Gyrate, available here: http://dfa.insound.com/store/store2.py (scroll down to the last release).

Max Neuhaus, R.I.P.

(Max Neuhaus, from the Houston Chronicle.)

The Houston Chronicle is reporting that Max Neuhaus died yesterday at the age of 69:

Max Neuhaus, a percussionist with Houston ties who pioneered a field of contemporary art known as sound installation, died Tuesday of cancer at his home in Marina di Maratea, Italy. He was 69.

Josef Helfenstein, director of the Menil Collection, described Neuhaus as a sculptor who worked with nonmusical sound instead of traditional materials such as clay or steel. Neuhaus’ second permanent U.S. museum piece, Sound Figure, was installed at the Menil in May.

“He is really part of that generation who changed art in the 1960s,” Helfenstein said. “What he did is very radical, actually. … He managed to define space with sound.”

Born in Beaumont in 1939, Neuhaus began performing as a percussionist when he was 14. He graduated from Lamar High School in 1957 and trained at the Manhattan School of Music. During the 1960s, he performed solo recitals of contemporary music by composers such as John Cage and Karlheinz Stockhausen at a time when it was rare for a percussionist to be a soloist.

“It’s a little more common now, but there were only three of us in the world at that time, and I did my first recital in 1964 and became well-known while I was still in my 20s,” Neuhaus told the Houston Chronicle in May. “But at a certain point, I started having these other ideas. I tried to do both at the same time, but … the better musician I was, the more people were convinced that what I was doing (with experiments in sound installation) was music, so to speak. So in a way, I had to commit career suicide as a musician.”

Neuhaus said he didn’t have the courage to walk away from music until after Columbia Masterworks contacted him about recording his repertoire, preserving what he thought was his best work. That 1968 solo album is considered an early example of live electronic music.

“I made the record and went out the back,” he said. “They never forgave me, of course — along with a lot of other people.”

Having achieved early fame as a performer, Neuhaus turned to an anonymous form of expression, embedding sound into environments as unlikely as New York’s Times Square or a Brooklyn, N.Y., subway station. He was secretive about his techniques and left no speakers visible.

First installed in 1977, Times Square was disconnected in 1992 and reactivated in 2002. As was his custom, Neuhaus did not label the piece, wanting people to discover it for themselves.

Menil spokesman Vance Muse lived in New York from 1984 to 1994 and walked through Neuhaus’ sound piece on his way to work every day.

“Like most New Yorkers, I thought for a long time it was the beautiful sound of the subway groaning and moaning,” Muse said. “Then an artist friend told me what it was, and it became a wonderful place to meet on the way to dinner or the theater — standing in that Times Square traffic island.”

Helfenstein described a similar experience while visiting Neuhaus in Marina di Maratea, where the artist moved in 2006.

“He used his house and garden always as a laboratory for his work,” Helfenstein said. “Once, he didn’t tell me anything. I just walked around the garden, and I walked into a sound. … And I stepped one foot to the right, and the sound was gone. It was like an invisible cube but formed by sound.”

Neuhaus’ friendship with Menil founder Dominique de Menil began in the early 1970s at a New York dinner party, which she interrupted by ordering 10 limousines to take her guests to Brooklyn to visit Walkthrough, the subway-station piece that was installed from 1973 to 1977.

“She was always very supportive,” Neuhaus said of de Menil, who died in 1997. “For a long time, it was very hard to find the wherewithal to keep going with these works, which you couldn’t sell, which there were no drawings for (until years later), and she was always there at the last minute.”

Neuhaus’ art-world recognition grew, however, and his sound pieces included permanent works for Dia: Beacon in New York; Landesmuseum Joanneum in Graz, Austria; Documenta 9 in Kassel, Germany; and the Castello di Rivoli, Museo d’Arte Contemporanea in Turin, Italy; as well as ephemeral installations for the Museum of Modern Art, New York in 1979 and the 1999 Venice Biennale.

In 1989 Neuhaus began producing what he called “circumscription drawings” of his sound works to address the problem of “finding a way to publish without destroying the work.”

Curated by Helfenstein, Max Neuhaus: Circumscription Drawings was on view May through August at the Menil to coincide with the unveiling of Sound Figure, which was permanently installed at the museum’s north entrance.

“It’s almost like going through a shower — purifying, in a way — before you enter (the museum),” Helfenstein said of walking through the installation.

Neuhaus has been represented by Lawrence Markey Gallery in San Antonio since 2002. He is survived by his wife, Sylvia Neuhaus; their daughter, Claudia; and his sister, Laura Hansen, of Sanibel, Fla.

Arrangements for a memorial service are pending

UPDATE, 8:00 PM: In more bad news, Pitchfork is reporting that Lux Interior of the Cramps has died. He was 60.

UPDATE, 8:20 PM: Download Max Neuhaus’s performance of Morton Feldman’s composition “The King of Denmark” here.

Ron Asheton, R.I.P.

(Ron Asheton performing with the Stooges, from http://www.mlive.com.)

The Ann Arbor News is reporting that Ron Asheton, guitarist of the Stooges, was found dead in his home this morning. Here’s the full story:

Famed rock-and-roll guitarist and longtime Ann Arbor resident Ronald “Ron” Asheton was found dead in his home on the city’s west side this morning, police said.

Asheton, 60, was an original member of The Stooges, a garage-rock band headlined by Iggy Pop and formed in Ann Arbor in 1967.

His personal assistant contacted police late Monday night after being unable to reach Asheton for days, Detective Bill Stanford said.Officers went to the home on Highlake Avenue at around midnight and discovered Asheton’s body on a living-room couch. He appeared to have been dead for at least several days, Stanford said.

Detective Sgt. Jim Stephenson said the cause of death is undetermined but investigators do not suspect foul play. Autopsy and toxicology results are pending.

Asheton was born in Washington, D.C. His brother, Scott, who lives in Florida, is the band’s drummer.

In 2007, The Stooges reunited and released “The Weirdness,” their first album in three decades.

Asked how it felt to be back with The Stooges, Asheton told The News in an interview that year that it was “great to be back on the road.”

The Stooges were part of a 1960s music scene in Ann Arbor that included such bands as the MC5, Bob Seger, Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen, and The Rationals.

We’ll keep updating when we know more. We also found an old issue of Black to Comm with a great Asheton interview, so if we’ll get the chance we’ll post it.