Pretty in Black

This story on Steve Albini and Big Black ran in Toronto’s monthly music paper ‘Nerve’ in August of 1987.

PRETTY IN BLACK: Big Black’s Steve Albini encounters Chris Buck. Who's got the big 3”?

A dark, military-style jacket is worn over an undersized ‘Bazooka Joe’ T-shirt. The bottom of the shirt falls slightly above the belt line, showing a bit of skin. The jacket is mostly unadorned, except a line of six or so stars along the back and a couple of pins (no sex and $ symbols) on the front. A grey fedora tops his disciplined short hair. And at the end of narrow legged jeans we find his classic black sneakers. The look is effective: casual and thought out.

If this sounds like a ‘Who’s Been Seen Wearing What’ fashion column, it’s not inappropriate, because despite Steve Albini’s distaste for big hair and anything associated with trendy alternative fashion, he is an underground media star. Obnoxious rock criticism and critical rock obnoxiousness have brought him a lot of attention. But let’s not forget the pull of his great look.

From the beginning I was interested if only because of his persona. A reading of his infamous diary from Forced Exposure magazine left me unimpressed. In fact, it struck me as rather juvenile (I stopped making dick size-type jokes in Grade 8), but with my first listen to Big Black my perception changed: these songs rose above the irresponsibility of his writing.

Big Black shoots out of the speakers as visual patterns, like razor sharp electric currents.

The sound is so simple, catchy and huge. “Santiago Durango’s ‘horizontal’ and Albini’s ‘vertical’ guitars attack each other at right angles,” wrote Chuck Eddy in the Village Voice. The songs’ narratives are often rural and nocturnal (if they do occur in daytime, then it's shrouded in darkness - the kind of light evident in nightmare adventures). The lyrics are sunk in the mix allowing only certain elements to be immediately accessible. Snatches of words and phrases, together with a loaded delivery, provoke the imagination.

Despite what one might expect from his writing, Steve Albini as an interviewee is serious, cooperative and even friendly. He speaks in an calm, detached voice, from a stance of cool. But I'm believing it.

We met in Boston after a Forced Exposure benefit show where he was scheduled to do a drum solo accompanied by a fireworks display (to everyone's surprise the club's management deemed this unsafe). Big Black, however, does not have a drummer. A beatbox works as a pacer for the two guitars and one bass (played by Dave Riley). A human drummer could easily play these rhythms, but that would add too much warmth. No, there's something sinister, otherworldly, about three obsessive young men playing frantically to keep up with a dispassionate mechanical guide.

But it's the sinister elements of this world that interest Big Black. Albini finishes his Jorden, Minnesota story:

“It was big news for about a week, then again six months later during the trial of the first case, but after that I never heard anything more about it.”

Do you know of the situation in Hamilton, Ontario where a mother and boyfriend involved her two young girls in graveyard rituals? Apparently the girls were forced to participate in cannibalism, necrophilia…

“I didn't hear about it, but this sort of thing isn't as uncommon as people suppose. That's one of the other things that fascinates me - exactly how often things like this are discovered. In Jorden it's probably been going on for 15 or 20 years.

“People can be driven to a state where they will do things... and they're not necessarily any different from anyone else. They just succumb to the urges. Most feel it's an awkward thing to bring up in public so they just suppress those emotions, suppress those questions. Me, I'm not embarrassed. I recognize it and accept it as another aspect of my character. If I get a taste for a certain kind of entertainment or stimulus, I just indulge myself, because there's no reason not to. That's why Big Black explores a lot of those supposedly hidden elements of society; to us it's not hidden.”

Some examples of other Big Black interests: slaughterhouse voyeurs (‘Cables’); fascist fun (‘Il Duce’, a tribute to Mussolini); and explosive suicide (‘Kerosene’).

In his rock journalism, Steve Albini speaks as a reactionary. He shoots his mouth off with the intent to shock and put off. In his Forced Exposure articles he discusses his fascination with the child porn publication PURE, his attempts to get some crack (not the drug), and his general frustration with life and how shitty it can get.

Another fucking insane case of flashback nostalgia hit me today. I was sitting there, minding my own business, and all of a sudden I'm fifteen, a movie is playing, I'm high and fondling this girl I knew in Montana. All the sensations go whipping past me like some rude wind, and before I know it, I'm fucking crying at the loss of it all. The sensation of time rocketing past me is unbearable. I'm aging and I can't bear it. I fear my future like I fear death, and there's nothing I can do. Yes, fucking hell, I want to be fifteen again. I want to know that discovery, that pure, dirty feeling of my first bang, my first punk rock record, my first all-night drunk, my first plate of biscuits and gravy, my first reefer, my first anything.

His well-articulated curiosity about human life in its barest in most impolite forms has made his writing attractive to those once felt that same curiosity but have had it beaten out of them by economic and social realities (i.e., rock journalists). But Albini’s opponents are equal in number to his fans. His casual use of race and gender-oriented humour has given rise to questions of social responsibility. “I don't give two splats of an old negro junkie’s vomit for your politico-philosophical treaties, kiddies,” is how he responds to criticism in print, but he told me differently.

“I think it should be pretty obvious at this point that only dopes actually believe in these judgment value systems that I'm making fun of a lot of the time. Anybody who's listening to this kind of music I shouldn't have to tell that racism is wrong. My contention is that if this is really part of your character, if you truly believe that none of this stuff (sex, race, etc.) matters, then it’s no longer a taboo subject for comedy. That's the way I look at it - I know nothing is going to make me a racist.”

Don't you think that people can easily misinterpret your writing as supportive of those ideas?

“When you read something and it's an obviously racist piece of literature then you dismiss the author as stupid. If it's racial comedy it doesn't have anything whatsoever to do with racism, it's just noticing the differences between cultures!”

“There are so many people who support racist and sexist attitudes... sexism is something which seems more subtle and it's picked up on less.

“I think of it in the same way. True sexism is so obviously stupid…” A lot of people are unaware of it, though.

“There is this race right now to uncover sexism where it doesn't exist in a lot of circles and I'm entirely opposed to that. There's no escaping the fact that men and women are socialized differently and that there are characteristics and personality traits that differentiate men and women. To note or exaggerate them or to use them as stereotypes I don't think has any bearing on whether or not the way you live your life has a valid basis. The way you treat people in your day to day life is what should matter as far as I'm concerned. That will define if you're racist or sexist or whatever. And again, if your values are in place and you know what you're thinking and why you're thinking it then you no longer need to feel gingerly about these subjects-you talk about them in any manner you want.”

You seem to expect a lot from your audience.

“No. So many people assume their audiences know absolutely nothing but they end up being pedantic, dour and polemical about everything. You have to get past the notion that the only way to talk about sexism is to say over and over again that it's wrong. Once that is understood, you go into the next phase, where sex becomes irrelevant - then sexual humour, sexual commentary are permissible again.”

And you think we're at that point now?

“I can't say that universally the audience is not ready for it, because the audience changes every time the magazine comes out.”

Albini seems to communicate differently in each medium he uses, expressing himself publicly in three voices: rock journalism, interviews and music. One shouldn't have to experience all three to begin to have an understanding of his message. But in a self-written article on his band Albini wrote that their new song, ‘Passing Complexion,’ was about “lawn darkies and jazz pianists.” It was later explained to me that what the song dealt with was a man who trains dogs to chase blacks off his lawn. Brilliantly ridiculous. But why breed misunderstanding in the first place? If Steve Albini’s message is positive and important, it's rather unfortunate that he's so often set on blocking comprehension of it.

Since the Atomizer LP, Big Black has released the EP ‘Headache’, the 45 ‘Heartbeat’ (a Wire cover), and will soon put out a second LP, Songs About Fucking. They don't plan any videos, because that would only lead to “a bunch of art directors jacking off into a fan.” They are presently in the midst of playing a slew of shows in Europe and Australia before they come back to America for four final performances. They're breaking up because Santiago is going to law school.

Top Image: Steve Albini photographed after the interview, on a Boston street, lit by a street flare. May 9, 1987.

Bottom Image: A page from the story transcript, featuring text that was dropped from the published story.

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