Thursday, August 26, 2010

Passage (a short story)

1st Place Prize Winner: 2008 Westfield State College Persona


            There were many body types. In designing my ideal woman, I never realized how difficult the process would be. My good friend Dr. Frank Crane was willing to give me a discount on a custom Matron. He was allowing me to decide nearly everything about the woman. As I stared through the glass at several torsos, I didn’t know what to think. I stood silently with Dr. Crane.
            “Hard to think about, isn’t it?” His bald head was blue from the lights in the room.
            “What is?”
            “Imagining a headless, legless, armless, breastless body in bed.” He chuckled a little.
            “Well yes, of course.” I surveyed the torsos again. I decided on one that seemed fit enough for me—not too tall, thin but not too thin, simple. “That one,” I pointed.
            “Excellent choice. Out of this group, that one is probably my favorite. Dr. Sullivan and I agreed that this would be part of the ideal woman. It seems too perfect!”
            “I think I’ll enjoy it. What part will you work on next?”
            “Arms. After the torso, always the arms next.”
            “Why?”
            “Well, for one thing, I like to think I’ve got the best method of creating a woman out of all the doctors here. They’ve noted my good work, and it’s actually rather annoying when some big CEO shmuck comes in here thinking he knows what a great woman is like and he always goes on about how he wants ‘the right tits’ and ‘the best ass’ and they always pick them first, then the legs and vagina, and they make a complete mess of a woman.” He shook his head. “They really don’t know what makes a great woman. And those assholes don’t even care about a mind. They just want a stupid weekend toy. Pathetic!”
            “How do you usually like to work on a Matron?”
            “Her body must come first. When you’re on top of her, you’ll see why. Or, feel why, I should say. I like to do the arms next because she’ll be using them a lot. She’ll be putting her arm in yours, holding you, all that. Sexually speaking, when she’s got her arms wrapped around you, you’ll want them to feel just right. Then the legs. Can’t have them just long and thin, no. You have to make the knees just right. Knees are ugly, but if you make them just right they’re much more pleasing to look at and touch. Feet, well, don’t worry about those. I’ll get the best looking feet for you. I’ll show you the group of the best feet when it comes time for that. Hands are a completely different story. You’ll have to think a lot about hands when we work on those.”
            “Why?”
            “A woman’s hands are probably the most important aspect of her physical essence. At least to me. She will need her hands for everything. In terms of you, her hands must be perfect. If her hands aren’t perfect, forget it. I know you’ll be unhappy. Maybe you won’t be able to explain it, but something won’t be quite right. You’re lucky you know me. If you need any modifications after we finish her, for anything, I’ll fix her free of charge.”
            “I appreciate that.”
            “Indeed. Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, feet, hands. Oh and her ass, unless you’re really particular, I know the best ass for torso 3C1.”
            “3C1?”
            “Yes. Torso 3C1 is the one you picked. It truly is the ideal body of a woman. Anyway to finish her off, you’ll pick out the tits, then we’ll work on the vagina. The vagina is actually easy, believe it or not. It takes a couple steps, but it’s actually one of the easier parts. Easy, but important of course. Then one of the hardest parts, and I save it for later, is the head. The entire head. You’ll have to get the lips just right, the eyes, nose, hair, all that and more. I actually like to start with the hair before doing anything else. We’ll do all of that on a computer. There are too many possibilities of facial features and all that so we don’t have any ‘ideal’ heads lying around. Too many faces in the world.”
            “After the physical parts, we work on her mind, right?”
            “Yes. We call it ‘DNA.’ Obviously it’s not real genetics, but it’s pretty damned close. It’s a long process, but we have quite a large number of personalities on file that you can interact with on a computer if you want to start there instead of from scratch. You can edit them. Starting from scratch can take months to work on. But, if you tell me what you’ve got in mind I can start you off with a few of the better files when we get to that. You’ll decide on her vocal cords during that part too.”
            “How long will it be until she’s totally finished?”
            “Probably three months.”
            “Should be just in time for summer, then.”
            “Good time to have a woman, Vincent.”
            I looked over the bodies behind the glass again. They looked cold. It was time to go. I turned and headed for the door, Dr. Crane following me.
            His office was four doors down the hallway. The light in the hallway was bright. I had to blink several times before my eyes adjusted from the blue light of the lab room. I noticed I was tired.
***
            Living alone has never been difficult for me. The nights I would come home after work and after meeting with Dr. Crane for a few hours, I would fix myself a drink and watch the dirty sunset over the city. I live in a flat above the city. I have a fantastic view of the metropolis. Some nights I would actually find myself lonely, even after I tried many times to find myself a woman.
            I have been involved with several women, but none of them wanted to stay with me for very long. Complications tend to arise with women, and I’d grown tired after seeing them come and go in my life. Though my parents see the idea of having a Matron as ludicrous, it is only because they are from the Old Generation. Things were much different then. While they age, the younger only become more and more sophisticated, reaching to a new age with each generation.
            I’ll admit my generation is coming to their “middle age,” and I can see the younger generation already coming upon mine. My parents however, don’t understand this passing of generations. With a Matron, I will be as modern as the next man. My parents refuse to understand this. They grew up at the end of another age. Their parents were the ones who married each other, when such a thing was all too common. Those were the days of sunsets and romantic evenings and such when it came to mating. They called it some kind of game, as if sexuality were to be won and lost through a series of social obstacles. My parents saw some of this in their lifetime, and it is why they dislike my intentions now.
            Once my Matron is finished, I will simply be as happy as any other man with a mate. She will be just as any other woman, and happy to have me. Together we will dine out occasionally with our friends. We will laugh together. We will go out to the trend mall together and fashion each other. We will be just as any other modern couple.
            Because she will be a Matron and not “real,” as my parents say repeatedly to me, they think that this will “ruin my life.” They are only seeing their own judgments rather than mine. I’ve already spent a good deal of money on my Matron, and at this point there is no going back. I made up my mind some time ago before I spoke with my good friend Dr. Crane. When it did come time to speak with him, he was more than happy to oblige to my request. His discount was more than appreciated. Even though my accounting firm has been doing quite well the past year, my recent expenses on a new auto made me think twice about going through with designing a Matron. My nights were beginning to get lonely again though, and I decided it was time for a new mate.
***
            The skyline looked lovely for the first time in months as I walked with Dr. Crane from the auto insurance agency to the parking garage across the skyway.
            “I’m very glad you came to me, Vincent. Even though we haven’t spoken in several months, I’m glad you consider me enough of a friend to ask me to do this for you.” Dr. Crane was trying to hide his excitement, I think.
            “Frank, I’ve thought a lot about it, and it’s what I want.”
            “It’s understandable, though some people still think it’s strange to have something like a Matron. In ten years, I doubt anyone will care. The Old Generation will be almost gone by then. The neo-hippies will probably be thought of as even more outrageous than they are now. Things have changed.”
            “I know my parents won’t care for me having a Matron, but I can’t care about how they feel anymore. They’ve made me miserable for most of my life and even though I will have to hear them judge me, you, and probably everyone we know, I’ll still stand by my decision. I have my own life to take care of.” I stared at my shoes for a moment.
            “I just wish they could see how much things have changed since their time. A Matron is practically a human being, but who’s checking anyway? It’s not like the old days before any of our parents or grandparents were born when things of this nature were so primitive. It was the ‘Digital Age’ then. Our technology now makes theirs look like a joke. And when it comes to all the new devices we’ve created since their time in regards to sex and mating, forget it!”
            “It’s as if my parents are stuck in a time that was never theirs to begin with.”
            “That’s the trouble with many people. Parents, the neo-hippies, they’re all so primitive, so archaic! They’re archaic, Vincent!” He was talking with his hands now. “They’re all passed by and they don’t even know it. That’s the trouble with each Old Generation. With each new one, they’re done and they refuse to admit it.”
            “I’ll hate the day that we are the Old Generation.”
            “We all will, Vincent. That’s why we must do what we can to keep young. Matrons will help us, I swear it. That’s why I got into this field. I was trying to think ahead of the curve, or at least manipulate the curve to my advantage.”
            “You’ve done your part.”
            “Yes, and you’re doing yours.” He became giddy. Dr. Crane enjoys his work, and I’m glad to have him as a friend.
***
            I hadn’t spoken with my parents in a year. Considering we’d never gotten along well, this wasn’t a problem. I was sitting in my flat staring at the ugly skyline when they called me not long before my Matron was finished. I’d named her Clara.
            “Vincent my dear, how are you?” My mother always put her face too close to the videophone.
            “I’m fine, Mother.”
            “Good, my dear. If I remember correctly, the last time we spoke you had told me Sidney had left you and you felt dreadful.”
            “Yes. I haven’t spoken with Sidney since then. In fact I haven’t even seen her since then.”
            “Vincent, how are you?” I could see my father coming out of the bathroom. I felt this happened too often. I believe last time my parents called me, my father was just coming out of the bathroom. I wish they would put their videophone somewhere else in their home so they could avoid this embarrassment. They appear so much older not thinking of things like this.
            “I’m fine, Father.” I could see him coming closer to the videophone.
            “Have you taken care of that auto problem you were having?”
            “Yes, that was months ago.”
            “Good, good.”
            And then there was a silence. Before that moment I knew it was coming, but I feared it, hated it. It was a stupid silence. Though I hate to use such a childish word as “stupid,” there is no other way to describe that silence we shared that afternoon on the videophone. We’d barely spoken for three minutes and already there was nothing more to say. The silence couldn’t have lasted more than ten seconds, but I’d hated that brief span of meaningless time more than death, more than seeing myself as one of the Old Generation, as that heinous moment passed. Just seeing my mother’s face too big for the videophone monitor staring like a blind sheep into what seemed like nothing, and my father not too far behind her, standing as if he should have been a lame grandfather you could see at the cinema. They made me feel so old, as if my life was destined to wither away gracelessly and grotesquely. I had to end this terrible silence.
            “Mother I’ve designed a Matron for myself.”
            “What?” Her face wrinkled despite her numerous attempts to avoid such an inevitability.
            “Her name is Clara, and she will be a wonderful girl in my life.”
            “Vincent, don’t you know what people will say?” I could see my father shaking his head. He walked away from behind my mother out of sight of the videophone.
            “I do, Mother, more so than you.”
            “Don’t you understand? They’ll call you all kinds of horrible things...”
            “No Mother, in fact I will be congratulated.”
            “What will our friends say about you? Don’t you know what they’ll say?”
            “Yes Mother, they will burn my effigy.”
            “What?”
            “Nothing, Mother.”
            “They’ll say wretched things about you, and they will blame it all on me and your father!” She moved back slightly from the videophone and looked away. I didn’t know what she was looking at.
            “Don’t be so unhappy, Mother. This is what I want. What I want doesn’t have to be what you want.”
            “You could at least think of me sometimes. I know things haven’t been the best in a long time, but please, Vincent. You could at least think of me.”
            “Mother, I want to be happy. Isn’t that what you want?”
            “Of course it is! But I want you to be truly happy!”
            “Then allow me to be!” She had annoyed me now. I couldn’t bear to hear another one of her trivial arguments. After this she didn’t say anything more. We shared another silence for a moment as she didn’t look at me through the videophone but instead continued to look at whatever it was I could not see. She breathed a sigh or two. This silence was nowhere near as wretched as the first. I believe this was because I was annoyed now. I could not concentrate on the silence now. All I could think of was how Dr. Crane and I designed Clara’s face to be quite different from my mother’s. I wanted everything about Clara to be different from my mother. I didn’t tell this to Dr. Crane, for I did not want to seem strange. I just knew I did not want to be reminded of my mother in a mate. Clara will be ideal for me.
            Mother was still staring at that nothing out of view of the videophone. “Mother I have to go.”
            “Yes, yes.” She got out of her chair and walked away towards the bathroom. Again, I despised the placement of their videophone.
            “Goodbye Mother.”
            “Goodbye, Vincent.” I disconnected the call. It was over.
            I leaned back in my chair. I felt like a mess suddenly. Between the slight annoyance of speaking with them and the great annoyance of their misunderstanding, I felt like nothing. I was frustrated. They were frustrating.
            I was still in my business clothes but I had loosened my tie shortly before they called. Looking out the windows to the skyline and metropolis, I began to get undressed. The skyline looked pathetic. The metropolis looked pathetic. I wondered what it all would have looked like sixty years ago. I could find pictures in a database, but I wouldn’t want to see them. I would envy the way it used to look. When I was younger and in school I was shown pictures of the skyline before the Several Disasters had destroyed its beauty, but I didn’t remember them that afternoon after my parents called, and I don’t remember them now. I don’t want to remember them anyway. I would only feel more miserable. I had some things to look forward to. Clara would be finished soon and I would be distracted from all these things. My life was going to be fit. I had things to do.

The Weather in January (a short story)




1st Place Prize Winner: 2007 Westfield State College Persona


            Winter. The snow had not yet fallen on the ground. Outside the little school, the children played on the pavement. The school could not afford swing sets, tire swings, or any playground equipment. That was on the other side of town.
            It had been five minutes since lunch ended and the third, fourth, and fifth graders were playing outside. Their games were clouded by overcast skies and gray weather for the past week. The sun couldn’t show its face.
            Most of the girls were in a circle surrounding the jump-ropers, and the others were off pretending with small toys they kept in their bright winter coats. But Angela was doing neither of these things. Instead she was defending Jon from David and Stephen. Third graders always stuck together against fifth graders.
            Most of the boys out in the schoolyard were separated into their little groups. Some with their action figures, some pretending to do wrestling moves on each other they saw on television, others were just walking and talking. Jon wasn’t doing any of this. He had to confront David and Stephen. He’d had enough.
            David, Stephen, Angela, and Jon were far out in the playground. It was a very large area; half of it concrete, the other half a large field with some surrounding trees, and a baseball diamond on one side. The other side was a free field with a very large rock some kids would sit on or play on. The four children were near the rock. Any kids that were about to have a fight went to the rock.
            The rock was a massive white wonder to the children in the schoolyard. Some of the kids would say it came from outer space—a huge meteor that killed a bunch of the dinosaurs. It was a mystery to them how the rock got there, but it became a place to play and feel free, near the trees that led to who knows where. Some of the children would say that there was a field with a little shack where a crazy man lived. Some fifth graders went there once.
            David and Stephen had begun picking on Jon since the day Jon slipped at lunch where Tim had accidentally dropped his carton of milk, which then exploded and the lunch ladies had to clean it up. Jon slipped on the clean wet floor with all of the food on his tray and he fell straight down. He was a mess. Food was all over him. Jon couldn’t even say anything. There were no tears, but there were many laughs. David and Stephen kept on him about it. Slow at first, but then they took anything they could get to make a fool of Jon.
            That was in September. It was January now, and Jon had had enough. The day before, Jon said he wanted a fight. David and Stephen laughed at him. Jon said they would fight the next day. They said to meet by the rock. And so they met.
            It was looking like snow would come soon. Angela, Jon’s only friend tried telling him to not fight David and Stephen. Jon refused and told her to go away. Jon wanted it all to end.
            “Hey faggot. You think you can take us?” David spoke more than Stephen did.
            “I’m gonna!” Jon was nervous. His left hand was shaking. It had a slight shake all the time, but when he was under a lot of stress it would shake much more than normal.
            “Jon! Don’t do it! Don’t fight them!” Angela was a character like the diplomatic ones in the cartoons on television. She’d be the one at a fight to put her arms out at length between the two sides to try and make them stop. She’d want to push them apart.
            “Sh’up Angela! I hab to do this!” Jon wanted this to be his defining moment.
            Stephen was laughing. “Come on, faggot.”
            “Are you gonna jerk off with that hand? You got it shaking like you’re gonna.” David was referring to something he saw his dad watching on television late one night. He was creeping quietly at the top of the stairs—past his bedtime. He did not fully understand it. “If you’re not gonna do it, get Angela to do it!”
            “Sh-sh’up! I’m gonna hurt you bad!” Jon was getting so nervous.
            “You probably don’t even know what jerking off is, you faggot! Fag!” David laughed more with Stephen.
            “Jon come here! Don’t hit them!” Angela didn’t know what else to do.
            Jon still didn’t act yet. He was too nervous and his hand was shaking. He looked at it and he didn’t feel like a hero in the cartoons. The heroes never got nervous. The heroes never got shaky.
            “Come on, Stephen,” David said. They walked up to Jon, and Jon put his fists up just like they do on television.
            “I’m gonna hurts you! I’m gonna!” Jon swung his right fist for David with everything he had. David moved back. The punch hit Stephen right in the jaw.
            “No!” Angela turned away. She couldn’t bear to look at what was happening.
            David looked down at Stephen. “Stephen!” David didn’t understand yet.
            Jon looked down at the boy. He wondered why there wasn’t a sound when he hit him, and why he didn’t feel like a hero. His left hand was still shaking quite visibly, and now the knuckles on his right hand hurt. He looked at them. They weren’t white with the weather. They were red as summer heat. Jon didn’t understand.
            Stephen didn’t understand what had happened to him. He looked at the ground. He saw something that appeared to be some blood in the dirt. He didn’t realize it was his own, but his face hit the earth hard when he fell, smashing his nose. It bled.
            He looked up at David. He had no words, but tears began to come down his cheeks. They were warm against the winter air. He couldn’t understand why he was now crying. Pain had never made him cry since he broke his arm two summers ago. He fell after climbing to the top of the old tire swing in the playground near his house.
            “Stephen! Get up and help me take this faggot!” David wanted violence.
            Angela did not know what to think. She looked at Jon, Stephen, and David, and she could not understand. She didn’t like violence, and she did not like blood, but she couldn’t help but look at Stephen’s bloody nose and the tears coming down his face.
            “You go touch me’s anymore, I’m gonna do it you too, Dabid.” Jon was so sure. He didn’t feel good though. Nausea settling in. His right fist was throbbing with pain. The punch was so steady and sweeping, but David was too swift, and Stephen gathered the heavy hand.
            Angela had no words—only short breaths.
            David’s face turned pink with senseless rage. He quickly approached Jon and punched him in the jaw with all of his strength. Angela still could not speak. Stephen sat on the ground, staring into the blood stained dirt with incomprehension.
            Jon’s face landed in the dirt. The nausea was worse now, but the pain in his knuckles and jaw distracted him. He stood up. He had no words.
            David turned to look over Stephen, wondering what was wrong with him. Heroes didn’t get hurt, and he and Stephen were heroes.
            Jon went to David and grabbed his shoulder to turn him around, and bashed his face as hard as he could, but still with his right fist. David now fell to the ground, almost on top of Stephen. Jon’s knuckles were in serious pain. The nausea made him feel slightly dizzy, but he kept his ground. He turned around to see Angela. She had run away. His focus moved to his knuckles. They felt broken. He wanted to cry, but David suddenly kicked him in the back to the ground.
            “Fuck you, Jon! Fuck you!” David’s incontinence led him to say things he did not quite understand. He kicked Jon over and over.
            “Fuckin’ faggot! Stupid retard!” Stephen’s bloodied face and mouth spoke things he would one day regret when he understood. He was kicking Jon too.
            Jon only felt the pain all over his body where David and Stephen were kicking him. David kicking at his back, Stephen at his front. Jon’s nausea caused him to vomit. David and Stephen both stopped.
            Jon rolled over away from where he vomited, toward the rock. He looked up at the sky, coughing, breathing. Thoughts washed over him, and he wondered where Angela had gone. He was alone now, bleeding.
            David looked at Stephen, and Stephen at David. Stephen was unsure of what to do. David knew what to do. He always knew what to do. He looked down at Jon. His mind was made up. He took his leg and gave the swiftest, strongest kick he could to Jon’s already bleeding head.
            For Jon, it was over.
            Angela and the special education teacher Mrs. Brimley came running outside. They ran as quickly as they could over to the rock where David and Stephen stood over their accomplishment, and Jon who lay bloody on the ground.
            “David! Stephen! What have you done?” Mrs. Brimley hadn’t even been able to put on her winter coat. She shivered from fear and the cold winter air.
            David and Stephen had no words, but they now grew cold and fearful as Jon’s body did not move.
            Angela looked at Jon’s eyes, which were still staring into the clouds wet with tears and a quiet mysterious pride. She could not comprehend the day.
            Mrs. Brimley looked at David and Stephen, who were still silent, and she too had no words. She knelt to Jon and felt for his pulse. She couldn’t help but notice Jon’s destroyed body, and she couldn’t understand it. The boy was gone.
            A wind blew strongly across the playground, and there was not a stir from anyone, as all the children had by now circled around the incident. Whispers grew softly. It began to snow.

Of Whispers, Squalls, and Wails (an essay)

“Music’s never loud enough. You should stick your head in a speaker.
Louder, louder, louder.”
—Lou Reed
(McNeil, McCain 6)

Of Whispers, Squalls, and Wails

            Rock music has seen many, many changes, movements, and countless acts since its birth somewhere in the middle of the 1950s. Rock & roll may have started out somewhat simple with three-chord jumpin’ rockers by Chuck Berry, Buddy Holly, and Jerry Lee Lewis, but in time things did change. The 1960s ushered in the Beatles, and the psychedelic rock scene shortly thereafter. The 1970s saw the rise of progressive rock, and the punk movement. By the 80s there was so much rock that had happened, where things would go was anybody’s guess. The 80s saw the rise of indie rock, which brought in a fantastic new aesthetic, and a slough of impeccably great bands including R.E.M., Hüsker Dü, the Replacements, Dinosaur Jr., the Meat Puppets, Black Flag, Minor Threat, and Sonic Youth. These American bands and their overseas counterparts freshened up rock, despite little acknowledgement in their time. They all proved to be profoundly influential, and by taking a look at Sonic Youth, one can truly understand how influential some of these groups were. Like their heroes the Velvet Underground, the Sonics created a sphere of musical influence both deep and wide. Since the mid-80s, they have been paving the way for other artists to try something different, just as the Velvets had started that trend since the late 1960s. Both groups expanded rock music’s vocabulary, and both groups are widely acknowledged as undeniable forces in the subgenre of experimental rock, and beyond. While the Velvet Underground surely takes the cake as the most influential experimental rock group of all time, Sonic Youth is undeniably the most important experimental rock group since the Velvets.
            A key to understanding Sonic Youth’s success is to understand the Velvet Underground’s success. When their debut The Velvet Underground & Nico was released in January of 1967 (Deming), nothing so abrasive had hit popular music. While not all of the album’s eleven tracks are as raunchy or noisy as the centerpiece “Heroin,” Lou Reed’s lyrical fixations on the album prove to be shocking enough—surely for the late 1960s. The combination of charming little pop tunes such as “Sunday Morning” and “Femme Fatale” with fractured noise rockers like “Run Run Run” and the free jazz explosion “European Son” was probably weird enough at the time. Unfortunately, the album had trouble getting released, taking about a year before so, due to its overtly suggestive themes (McNeil, McCain 18).
Up until the album’s release, not much in popular music had been quite as groundbreaking, or as challenging. Pete Townshend was starting to grow out of guitar smashing. The Beatles would release Sgt. Pepper in June, kicking off the “Summer of Love” (Erlewine), but hadn’t yet touched upon the musical adventurism of “The White Album.” Jimi Hendrix would release Are You Experienced? and Axis: Bold as Love in ‘67 too, but despite his wild guitar skills and distorted magic, as well as his experiments in the studio, none of it quite compares to the Velvets’ in-your-face, raw approach. The Doors would debut the same year as well, featuring some challenging numbers, particularly “The End,” but yet the Doors had more to do with the dark side of psychedelia than musical experimentation. Captain Beefheart hadn’t flexed his most avant-garde muscles yet, sticking with blues and rock & roll structures on his debut Safe as Milk. Perhaps the closest thing to the Velvets at the time was Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention’s debut Freak Out!, released a year prior to the Velvets’ debut, though most of the album is focused on parodying the blandness of mid-60s pop songs.
Lou Reed said of the early days of the Velvets, “To my mind, nobody in music was doing anything that even approximated the real thing, with the exception of us. We were doing a specific thing that was very, very real. It wasn’t slick or a lie in any conceivable way...” (McNeil, McCain 7). Reed’s lyrics turned unflinchingly toward drugs, kinky sex, and more. The territory to which songs like the S&M paean “Venus in Furs” and the earth-shattering “Heroin” go to proved revolutionary. Sonically, the Velvets broke new ground for pop music with these songs, both of which feature John Cale’s droning viola, à la La Monte Young. What Cale brought to the Velvets’ sound was a certain sense of class, as he was a native of Wales and studied under avant-garde composer La Monte Young in New York City (McNeil, McCain 4).
Furthermore, the songs on the debut album as well as the other Velvets records sound monumentally under-produced, lacking the sheen of, say, even an early Beatles record (i.e.: A Hard Day’s Night). The apparent low quality in the Velvets’ production undoubtedly influenced the lo-fi movement of the 90s, with artists such as Smog, Sebadoh, Pavement, Guided by Voices, and Neutral Milk Hotel making use of lesser recording technology.
The Velvets’ second album, White Light/White Heat proved just as groundbreaking. Featuring only six tracks, it is a surrealistic nightmare of a rollercoaster ride through the dark backstreets of New York City. The title track sheds light on amphetamine use, and the epic “Sister Ray” is seventeen minutes of sheer madness involving heroin users, a prostitute sailor, an accidental murder, and the police threaten to stop it all. White Light/White Heat is the grittiest of the Velvets’ four albums. The lyrics are markedly darker than those on The Velvet Underground & Nico, and the music spares any “prettier” moments with the exception of “Here She Comes Now,” but even that song is rather suggestive and creeps along much like the rest of White Light/White Heat.
            White Light/White Heat broke more sonic ground than its predecessor. For one thing, the Velvets were never quite as loud again in the studio. “The Gift” is a short story read by Cale over a demented R&B jam. Reed’s guitar on “I Heard Her Call My Name” blazes with psychotic delight, and jumps out of the mix screaming bloody murder. “Sister Ray,” in all its seventeen-minute glory, features some of Reed’s most outrageous guitar work, blistering through and through, and Cale’s organ blasts and sounds like it could explode at any moment. Again, the shoddy production shows like in the first record, but again it has a certain “lo-fi” charm, proving that you don’t need George Martin or Phil Spector to produce a great, or important record.
            These two records became vastly influential, as well as The Velvet Underground and Loaded, released in 1969 and 1970, respectively. It has been said that even though not many people had heard The Velvet Underground & Nico upon its release, those who did started their own bands. The early punk movement obviously took cue from the Velvets, particularly the New York bands. The New York Dolls’ gender-bending, Patti Smith’s fiery poetics, Television’s expertly ragged musicianship, the Talking Heads’ weird paranoia, and Suicide’s and the Silver Apples’ early forays into electronic music all were indebted to the Velvets. In Detroit, Iggy Pop and the Stooges owed their soul-crushing volume, rough attitude, and their frequently suggestive lyrics to the Velvets too. The “Kraut-rock” scene in Germany had its roots in the Velvets; groups like Can and Faust wore the influence well. David Bowie, an avowed fan, went on to produce Lou Reed’s most famous record, Transformer. And all these artists were only marking the beginning of the Velvets’ influence, as they continue to inspire groups today. They became one of the most important groups in rock & roll, even getting inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 1996.
            Sonic Youth on the other hand began proper in 1981 featuring the lineup of Thurston Moore, Kim Gordon, and Lee Ranaldo, playing at the New York “Noise Festival” (Azerrad 235). Ranaldo had joined the group when Moore approached him early in the festival after seeing him perform with Glenn Branca’s guitar ensemble. By the time they secured drummer Richard Edson and recorded their self-titled debut EP, Sonic Youth was beginning a path that would become as important as the Velvets’.
            While their first release may not be as striking or as important as some of their later releases, the Sonic Youth EP bears a number of the group’s trademarks. Alternate guitar tunings, eerie guitar sounds, washes of feedback, atypical song structures, and oblique lyrics, all run through the veins of the five songs. A marked difference in comparison to their later albums is Richard Edson’s drumming, being a particularly “funky ‘street beat’” also common in several other New York bands at the time including Liquid Liquid, the Bush Tetras, and ESG (Azerrad 237). Edson eventually left, but once the Sonics discovered and hired Steve Shelley in ’85 (Azerrad 258), they’d certainly found a winner.
            By the time Sonic Youth would release their third album EVOL in 1986, they had already sown the seeds of their influence. Fellow indie rockers Dinosaur Jr. released their debut record a year earlier, featuring their own brand of loud but relatively accessible tunes that bear influence from the Sonics. The two groups even toured together for a short time after the release of EVOL (Azerrad 265). It wouldn’t be too hard to see English noisemakers the Jesus and Mary Chain as picking up a thing or two from the Sonics either, with their feedback-laden pop songs. Ireland’s My Bloody Valentine, the quintessential shoegazer group, with their unabashedly dreamy gems of songs, also bore more than a passing resemblance at times to Sonic Youth’s dissonant feedback—thing is, My Blood Valentine often sounded “prettier” than the Sonics. New Jersey group Yo La Tengo would release their first album in ’86 featuring the beginnings of their noisy pop songs that owed some debt to the Sonics.
            EVOL is a particularly interesting album in that it shows the Sonics getting into slightly more accessible territory than the two albums and debut EP preceding it. The opener, “Tom Violence,” sounds like Sonic Youth, that’s the for sure, but it feels a little less wandering. “Shadow of a Doubt” with its sexual tension is one of Gordon’s best songs in the Sonic Youth canon, and actually does have a verse-chorus-verse structure, also featuring a bridge. Ranaldo’s “In the Kingdom #19” updates the Velvets’ “The Gift,” with Ranaldo reading a rather strange story concerning a car accident over a punky, noise fused jam. The album’s best track however, is the seven-minute opus “Expressway to Yr. Skull” (also known as “Madonna, Sean, and Me”). The song’s first section sounds like an anthem as Moore sings, “We’re gonna kill the California girls,” while the second section features Moore, Ranaldo, and Gordon’s guitars feeding back ever so slightly, creating a dreamy atmosphere until the track fades out.
            EVOL was an underground hit, and setup audiences for two masterpieces that would follow: Sister, released in 1987, and the sprawling double-album Daydream Nation, released in ’88, the latter of which is often considered the Sonics’ best work. Sister is a bit more up-tempo in comparison to earlier Sonic Youth records, even featuring a cover of “Hotwire My Heart” by little known San Francisco punk outfit Crime, and the result sounds similar to that of the Velvets’ “I Heard Her Call My Name,” with some lead guitar work that jumps out of the mix. The album’s up-tempo songs seem like reminders that the band isn’t just all about atmosphere and droning and making creepy sounding records. They grew up with a love of bands like the Stooges, the MC5, and Television as well as having learned valuable lessons from Glenn Branca, whom Ranaldo had studied under, among other musical avant-gardists (Azerrad 234, 236). Former drummer Bob Bert said of some of the Sonics’ influences, “[Glenn Branca] was just an obvious influence. ‘Hey, we can take this approach that Glenn and Rhys Chatham are doing and blend it with the MC5 and have a whole new thing’” (Azerrad 243).
            The double-album Daydream Nation may be the Sonics’ most influential album to date. It was the album that damn near broke them into the mainstream, finding prominence in the press, notably the Village Voice, Rolling Stone, and also finished in the number one spot on CMJ’s year-end chart, as well as topped the independent charts in England for NME and Melody Maker (Azerrad 270). The album continued the trend set by EVOL, featuring a more streamlined approach, but “streamlining” is a relative concept for the group.
Probably Sonic Youth’s best known song, “Teen Age Riot,” kicks off the record. A joyous take on the D.I.Y. aesthetic, the chiming guitars and lightly distorted ones along with Moore’s ever present cool, make for the band’s most accessible song up to that time. The punky “Silver Rocket” and two-step hardcore beat of “’Cross the Breeze” keep in check the more subdued moments of “The Sprawl” and “Candle,” while the improvised section of “Total Trash” and the blazing aggression of “Rain King” can please anyone looking for a sonic head rush. Daydream Nation saw Sonic Youth in top form, and in turn got them signed to Geffen Records (Azerrad 271).
            The 90s brought in a slough of bands who undoubtedly learned a thing or two from Sonic Youth, including lo-fi bands such as Pavement and Sebadoh, as well as the likes of Tortoise, June of 44, and others. A band directly influenced by Sonic Youth however, was Nirvana. Sonic Youth brought them to Geffen Records (Azerrad 233), which then kick-started the alternative rock boom of the decade with the album Nevermind. Beyond Nirvana, Sonic Youth still continues to inspire artists today.
            Interestingly enough, the Velvets and Sonic Youth actually have a lot of things in common, so much so that one has to wonder if lightning actually can strike the same place twice. Both bands formed in New York City, and became major representatives of the music scene there. John Cale worked with avant-garde composer La Monte Young, while Lee Ranaldo worked with avant-garde composer Glenn Branca. Both bands featured women—Maureen Tucker banged the drums with the Velvets and did some occasional singing, while Kim Gordon played bass and sang with the Sonics. Lou Reed and Thurston Moore do have rather similar voices, and also seem to exude a certain “too cool for school” kind of aura. Both groups featured two guitar players exchanging lead duties—Reed and Sterling Morrison in the Velvets, Moore and Ranaldo in the Sonics. Also, both groups heavily influenced rock movements that followed their lead, being the punk movement for the Velvets, and the grunge and alternative rock movement for the Sonics. Even if these are all just coincidences, it is nonetheless remarkable considering how often this sort of thing happens—or perhaps doesn’t happen, is more like it.
            Both groups have a special place in rock & roll, having inspired so many and received as many accolades as they have. In 2005, Sonic Youth’s Daydream Nation was inducted into the National Recording Registry of the Library of Congress, alongside Stevie Wonder’s Songs in the Key of Life, Jimi Hendrix’s Are You Experienced?, B.B. King’s Live at the Regal, Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention’s We’re Only in it for the Money, and the Dave Brubeck Quartet’s Time Out. A year later, The Velvet Underground & Nico found its way in too, along with Paul Simon’s Graceland and the Rolling Stones’ “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction.” One can imagine it is only a matter of time before Sonic Youth find their way into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame like the Velvets.
            It’s true that there were groups after the Velvets’ time that were important in the growth of experimental rock, but none proved as vastly influential or as popular as Sonic Youth. The Kraut-rock group Can put out several great records early in their career, and obscure English post-punk outfit This Heat released two devastatingly original albums in their short lifetime. Captain Beefheart, Pere Ubu, and Frank Zappa kept things interesting through the American 70s. But perhaps Sonic Youth’s success was inevitable. The Velvets had been the seeds in fertile soil tilled by the likes of composers John Cage and La Monte Young, and free jazz gods Ornette Coleman and Cecil Taylor. The myriad artists who rose out of those seeds grew strong, but perhaps not as tall as Sonic Youth, who became the most prominent and important experimental group since the Velvet Underground.




Works Cited
"2005 National Recording Registry." Library of Congress. 10 May 2008 <http://www.loc.gov/loc/lcib/0605/nrr2.html>.
Azerrad, Michael. Our Band Could Be Your Life. New York: Black Bay Books/Little, Brown and Company, 2002.
Deming, Mark. "The Velvet Underground & Nico." All Music Guide. All Media Guide. 07 May 2008 <http://www.allmusic.com/cg/amg.dll?p=amg&sql=10:dpfqxql5ldhe>.
Daydream Nation. Perf. Sonic Youth. CD-ROM. Geffen Records, 1993.
EVOL. Perf. Sonic Youth. CD-ROM. Geffen Records, 1994.
"Historical Recordings, Musical Legends." Library of Congress. 12 May 2008 <http://www.loc.gov/loc/lcib/0704/nrr.html>.
"Inductee List." Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. 11 May 2008 <http://www.rockhall.com/inductees/inducteelist/>.
McNeil, Legs, and Gillian McCain. Please Kill Me. New York: Grove Press, 2006.
Erlewine, Stephen Thomas. "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band." All Music Guide. All Media Guide. 09 May 2008 <http://www.allmusic.com/cg/amg.dll?p=amg&sql=10:difwxql5ldae>.
Sister. Perf. Sonic Youth. CD-ROM. Geffen Records, 1994.
The Velvet Underground & Nico. Perf. The Velvet Underground. CD-ROM. Polydor, 1996.
White Light/White Heat. Perf. The Velvet Underground. CD-ROM. Polydor, 1996.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Best Interest (a 10-minute play)



Best Interest

By Ian Laczynski




AT RISE:           (CURT and DIANA are kissing
passionately on the balcony against
the wall, out of sight of the doors.
Suddenly, DIANA stops. SHE walks
over to the banister.)

DIANA
Can’t do this anymore.
(SHE begins fixing her hair, not looking at CURT. HE stays silent for a moment, and then sighs and turns away from her.)
We can’t do this anymore, Curt. We just can’t.

CURT
                                    (Sighing.)
Just like before.

DIANA
You knew that it wouldn’t last five years ago when we started seeing each other. You don’t have to be a shit about it. You knew what you were getting into.

CURT
So did you. You knew how I felt about you then. You could have asked me anything and I would have done it.

DIANA
I know that, but it wasn’t meant to be. I was with—

CURT
Bill. And you weren’t happy then. I was there for you then, and you wanted to be with me.

DIANA
I couldn’t just leave Bill like that. We were having problems, yes, but I couldn’t just walk out on him like that. We’d been together three years. I couldn’t just walk out of that.

CURT
So you said. But I heard you ended up breaking it off with him anyway, a few months after I left town.

DIANA
Curt, don’t turn this into something it’s not. Just calm down.

CURT
Diana, let’s face it; you didn’t want to be with him, you wanted to be with me. But you went against what you really wanted and chose to be with that asshole.

DIANA
Don’t say that. You never even knew him.

CURT
I knew enough about him to feel that way. You were unhappy. Isn’t that why you wanted me around then? Or was it more than that?

DIANA
Oh, stop it. You know it was more than that.

CURT
Then why couldn’t we be more than that?

DIANA
It wasn’t meant to be.

CURT
Don’t say that.

DIANA
Curt, the timing was off. Things would have been different if—

CURT
No. Don’t you fucking say that. That’s not fair.

DIANA
What?

CURT
Don’t you remember? We both agreed that there couldn’t have been a better or worse time for us. You said that. We said that.

DIANA
And look what happened.

CURT
Oh, what? You went back to him. To Bill. To something that was bound to end.

DIANA
You would have done the same. Or, don’t you remember saying that to me?

(CURT turns away, frustrated.)

CURT
Can’t you see, Diana?

DIANA
What, Curt?

CURT
We would have been something great. We felt so strongly for each other, and if you would have let it work out, who knows what would have happened.

DIANA
You can’t keep feeling that way. Everything is different now. Things change. I changed. I’m sure you’ve changed.

CURT
If you’ve changed so much, then why were you just on top of me?

DIANA
Curt, I just…

CURT
Just what?

DIANA
Sometimes I just wonder what the hell I’m doing with my life.

CURT
What do you mean?

(SHE searches her purse for a moment and takes out an engagement ring, putting it on her finger and showing CURT.)

CURT
Oh, god. Somehow, I’m not surprised.

DIANA
Curt, you know what we had meant more to me than—

CURT
Than what?

DIANA
Than… a lot of things.

CURT
                                    (Confused.)
What does that mean?


DIANA
Curt, I was in love with you, but I couldn’t be in love with you. I didn’t say it then, but I couldn’t say it then. I shouldn’t be saying it now, but…

CURT
You knew I was in love with you. It wasn’t in my best interest, but I knew that. I fell in love with you anyway.

DIANA
You can’t always choose things like that, I guess.

CURT
Maybe not. But you let me fall in love with you. Was it a mistake?

(DIANA turns away and looks over the balcony for a moment.)

DIANA
No, not at all. I wanted you to. I mean, wasn’t it obvious how I felt about you? I would call you back. I’d wait around places I didn’t need to be, hoping you’d show up. I wanted to be with you. I wanted more than just what we had then. I really…

CURT
Loved me?

DIANA
I did love you, Curt. Very, very much.

CURT
I would have done anything you asked of me. Do you remember when you called me to come over at three in the morning?

DIANA
Yes, I do. I won’t forget it.

CURT
I won’t either.

(SHE sighs.)

DIANA
I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch.

CURT
I really wish you would have. I wanted nothing more after I left town. I can’t tell you how much I felt like I regretted making that decision.

DIANA
I’m sorry.

CURT
Diana, I loved you.

DIANA
I know, Curt.

CURT
I still love you. I don’t even know why.

(HE gets close to her.)

DIANA
We can’t have this. I’m getting married.

CURT
So call it off.

DIANA
No, no…

CURT
Why not?

DIANA
I’m getting married in a week, Curt.

CURT
Shit…

(HE turns away from her, upset.)

CURT
Diana, why, why did you have to kiss me? Why? I just… god dammit.

DIANA
I just…

CURT
You’re not in love with him, are you?

DIANA
Shut up. Don’t say that.

CURT
Why? Because it’s true?

DIANA
Shut the fuck up, Curt. It’s not that, I just—

CURT
You don’t love him.

DIANA
What the hell do you know about it?

CURT
I know enough.

DIANA
It’s not like that.

CURT
Be serious, Diana. Seeing me here after five years, stirring up old feelings. You’re not happy. You weren’t happy then, you’re not happy now.

DIANA
I’m happy enough. I’m getting fucking married in a week.

CURT
Oh yeah? What’s his name?

DIANA
Roger.

CURT
Roger? That’s lamer than Bill.

DIANA
Fuck you. You don’t have to be a god damned child. At least he’s not that.

CURT
Give me a break. I might not be “stable” like he is, but hey, you once said to me that you weren’t marriage material, either. Do you remember that?

DIANA
What? When did I say that?

CURT
You were in my bed. We were waking up just talking and whatever, and I asked you what was going to happen between you and Bill, and you said you didn’t know. You said, “It’s not like we’re supposed to get married. God knows I can’t deal with that.”
(DIANA stops and thinks for a moment.)
Well, can’t you remember?

DIANA
No, I don’t remember that.

CURT
Well, you said it. And now here you are, getting married to some loser in a week.

DIANA
Just stop it. Roger’s a good guy.

CURT
So was Bill, right?

DIANA
God dammit, Curt!

CURT
You left him. Are you going to leave Roger too?

DIANA
I’m going to marry him!

CURT
Ah, forget it.

(HE turns away, about to go back inside.)

DIANA
Wait, Curt.

CURT
What?

DIANA
I just… I don’t know how I feel about so many things anymore. I didn’t want to let go of you, you know. I didn’t.

CURT
But you did let go.

DIANA
I had to.

CURT
You really didn’t have to. You could have let go of Bill. I was there for you when he wasn’t.

DIANA
I know, but you have to understand, Curt, it couldn’t be. I just couldn’t do that to him. I felt stupid enough being with you while I was with him.

CURT
Then why did you keep coming back?

DIANA
I loved you.

CURT
Then what is it now?

DIANA
Curt, I still love you. I just can’t be with you.

CURT
I’ve just never understood why.

DIANA
Because there couldn’t be worse timing in my life.

CURT
It’s more than that, Diana. You just… you’re too committed to what you don’t really want.

DIANA
And you’re… too much for me.

(SHE looks down, away from CURT. HE stands for a moment, thinking. The moment feels almost impenetrable.)

CURT
What is that supposed to mean?

DIANA
Curt, you don’t understand. I can’t just up and leave like that. It’s a terrible thing to do. I’ve made commitments to these people, and I’m going to stick to them. That’s something you’ve never understood. You can’t just walk out on people like that. I can’t just leave and expect everything to be okay.

                                                            CURT
Diana, it’s so much simpler than that. If you really love me and want to be with me, if you want this, then it’s yours. You have to be where you’re happy.

                                                            DIANA
But it’s not that simple. I have this life, and I can’t just let go of it like that. I’m getting married in a week. I have responsibilities.

                                    (CURT thinks for a moment.)

CURT
Then you’ll never be free. You’ll always be in that cage. You’ll never be who you really want to be.

DIANA
And exactly what do you want me to be?

CURT
Just you. I love you.

DIANA
I just can’t love you the way you loved me then.
                                    (CURT sighs and looks down. SHE hesitates before continuing.)
I don’t know why things have to be fucked up.

CURT
Me neither. But we don’t have to be this way, do we?

DIANA
What do you mean?

CURT
We love each other. That means something.

DIANA
It means something, but we can’t be together.

CURT
We should be together.

DIANA
I’m telling you now, Curt, I wish we could be together. I wish we could have been together from the beginning, but it wasn’t meant to be.
(SHE starts heading to the door. CURT remains standing by the banister.)

DIANA (cont’d)
I do love you, Curt. I just can’t be with you.

(SHE goes back inside. CURT is alone. HE sighs and looks out to the horizon.)

END OF PLAY