Douglas McCarthy of Nitzer Ebb

A brisk and damp Friday night on Manhattan’s East 23rd Street saw a collection of die-hard industrial music fans gather outside the Blender Theater to worship one of the earliest and most eccentric pioneers in the style, the English band, Nitzer Ebb on tour to promote their new album named—what else?— “Industrial Complex.”

Dating back to the genesis of the industrial scene around 1983, these boys present a theatrical image in keeping with their weirdly unique brand of music, complete with pseudo-Germanic and pseudo-militaristic affectations. In that sense they resemble another band from that era, Laibach, known also for counterfeit German and military affectations. One major difference is that while Laibach worked from revisionist versions of cover songs, Nitzer Ebb does mainly original material consisting of harsh, repetitive, mantra-like lyrics shouted over pitiless electronic percussion and the absence of melody. The very name, Nitzer Ebb is an enigma, evoking a kind of dismal, hard feeling, but with no particular meaning, and in fact, no consistent pronunciation.

They have managed to maintain a surprisingly high profile, touring with such big names as Depeche Mode and contributing to the soundtrack of a recent horror flick, “Saw VI.”

In Nitzer Ebb’s heyday, frontman Douglas McCarthy used to appear in military jodhpur pants and knee-high jackboots, but this night he greeted the New York crowd warmly in shades, a suit, white shirt and tie, and in stark contrast with the punkish bandanas, mohawks and construction-booted attire of the audience.

The show opened with the rapidly paced, “Promises” from the 1989 album “Belief.” Next, “Let Your Body Learn” from 1987’s “That Total Age,” similar in style, followed. Dancing, gyrating and strutting around frenetically on stage seems to have kept McCarthy in superb shape.
“Shame” from the 2006 compilation “Body of Work” had a funkier rhythm but increased the brutality index. “Lightning Man,” too, had a sinister sound, emphasized by the hollow, deep, clangy bass-line heard on much of their music, and was livened up with a repeated jazz riff that sounded like it came from a robotic clarinet.

McCarthy’s jacket came off as the performance intensified with song after song featuring their ruthlessly repetitious signature sound. The crowd seemed intoxicated with McCarthy’s angry, barking lyrics and the mesmerizing, motorized cadences. “Godhead” had McCarthy growling to a rapid-fire swing beat.

Gramercy Theater provided a spectacular light show throughout the hour-long concert of around 15 songs, through “Murderous” and “Control I’m Here,” to the climactic closing piece, for which this band is best known, “Join In the Chant.” After a brief intermission, they returned for two more songs climaxing with the finale, “I Give to You.”

Nitzer Ebb certainly pleased the audience with their unique formula of maniacally repeating brutal lyrics (“Lies, lies, lies, lies…Guns, guns, guns, guns!”) over monotonous, thumping mechanical rhythms.

And below is the same article as it appears in the 12-30-09 issue of The Aquarian

Most Unusual, the Aquarian published the photo in COLOR!

Skinny Puppy/ Nokia Theater Times Square
November 17, 2009
New York, NY
By Doktor John

Nivek Ogre of Skinny Puppy

The bizarre performance-art/industrial music project called Skinny Puppy, now in its third decade, continues to outdo itself in every measure from musical creativity to mind-boggling staging to ghastly offensiveness. The current tour, dubbed “In Solvent See” in honor of the economic crisis, touched down in the City at the Nokia, drawing crowds of the region’s most avid industrial culture freaks young and old, many in full cyber-punk regalia.

The opening act was a heavy-metal soloist backed by a digital audio track going under the name Werewolf Grehv. While he proved his abundant dexterity on the electric guitar, what he mostly produced were cadenzas of structure-less noise with no discernible rhythm.

Skinny Puppy came on a little after 9:30 PM, front man Nivek Ogre horrifyingly stooped over an invalid walker, masked and in a huge dunce-cap or Ku Klux Klan hood, depending on how you saw it. If that wasn’t disorienting enough, the lighting consisted mostly of rapid-sequence motion-picture projection that flooded the stage and flickered blindingly, fragmenting the image of the stage set, the musicians and the props constantly.

Musically, they were at their very best, performing many of their early masterpieces like “Addiction” and “Rodent,” but with rich electronic layers added and exceptionally clear vocals. Ogre’s costume came off in a series of unveilings, each time revealing yet another creepy mask or garment underneath. Less common classics were represented such as “Morpheus Laughing” and “Antagonism,” rather than the expected “Testure” and “Killing Game,” which were conspicuously absent.

Newer material from the latter two albums included the bombastic “Pedafly” and the shocking “Politikill.” “Ugli,” off the 2007 “Mythmaker” disc, proved offensive to a handful of the audience who quietly arose from their seats and exited the auditorium when religious imagery was projected on to the background screen. “Assimilate” had political overtones, highlighted by images of the stars and stripes on screen, suggesting a critique of attitudes surrounding immigration.

They took a short break around an hour into their show, returning with their greatest anthem, “Worlock” done in extended version, followed by an unfamiliar piece that featured the monotonous mantra of the word “crazy” repeated again and again. A surprising and satisfying climax was reached with the archetypal “Far Too Frail,” following which Ogre shouted the group’s appreciation to the New York crowd.

Skinny Puppy has gone through break-ups, betrayals, collaborations with other musicians and the destructive withdrawal of key members, even by death. With this, their zillionth live performance in 27 years, Skinny Puppy‘s Ogre and cEvin Key have distinguished themselves as the most bold, inventive masters of the industrial style and creators of a unique brand of music that creates beautiful music out of ugly noise.

Note: I have no idea how I got this excellent photo. If you read the third paragraph (above) you get an idea of how distorted and discombobulated the visual effects were. I took dozens of useless mishmosh photos of unrecognizable light and color patterns that prevailed throughout the show. Yet in one precious instant, everything was clear (see picture) and the photo at the top of this entry is the result!

As many of you know, I have become a fan of roller derby.
Man, there is nothing like a female athlete!
And you know, while these grrls are rough and tough, they’re very sportsmanlike. No vicious attacks, no flouting the rules, no venomous spewing, fighting, cussing. Just rough and tumble skating hard, blocking hard and playing to win!

The Pack

Athletic physique!

Blocking

Skating hard!

Crash!

Wounded!

Big Red

Big Green

Note Celtic cross

Relaxing at McGovern’s after the match

The timeless beauty appeared in this outfit modelling for the design company “Kiss Kiss Kill Kill”

Myke Hideous was among several artists exhibiting at an art oprening held Halloween Night at Paul Vincent Studio, 49 Harrison Street, Hoboken, N.J.

Greeting us at the door

were two of the finest witches to be seen in all of Hudson County that night!

Here’s Myke himself

taking photos of his guests

Marzena was in attendance, but uncharacteristically silent owing to the after-effects of laryngitis!

This is one of Myke complex collage-constructions

which he categorizes as “apocalyptic.” It features a variety of animal skulls, dried flowers and plants, a doll’s head and much more. It has to be seen to be believed, and was priced at a modest $500.

One very impressive painting on wood was this creepy number shown below, called “Escapism.”

Present, beautiful but speechless

(due to laryngitis) was Marzena, shown below.

Franco Battiato/ Le Poisson Rouge/ Oct. 19, 2009

New York
By Doktor John

Franco Battiato, one of the greatest figures in modern music, is little known in the U.S, which is nothing short of an outrage. Perhaps it is partly his own fault because Battiato, —who is in many ways the Italian equivalent to Peter Gabriel—rarely spends time touring. This performance in New York was one of only two stops in the U.S., the other a performance in L.A. the preceding night, and this visit was only his second to this country.

Entering the scene initially as a synth-pop genius of innovative prog-rock in the early 80s, he has since delved deeply into experimental and world music, integrating rock with Turkish, French, Persian, German and Brit-pop styles. Fiercely original, yet fearlessly quoting Hendrix, the Beatles and Mozart into his melodies and complex rhythms, Battiato directly addresses the most profound issues of existentialism, modern physics, oriental philosophy, cosmology and sex. His take on politics is serious without being radical, insightful and humane rather than revolutionary.

This night he performed backed by a string quartet, guitarist, pianoforte and synthesizer for a small crowd of fervent, mainly Italian, mainly middle-aged fans whose emotional response was so intense that it threatened to overpower the show.

Drawing from his vast repertoire (I own more than twenty of his albums) he supercharged the audience into a frenzy of cheering, weeping, and singing along with a combination of his new songs and a generous serving of his beloved favorites. Styles spanned the gamut from delicate, meditative pieces like Oceano di Silenzio (Ocean of Silence) and Gli Uccelli (The Birds) to melancholy songs of love such as La Stagione DelAmore (The Season of Love) to spirited, Near-East-flavored rockers like Voglio Vederti Danzare (I Want To See You Dance) and Centro Di Gravita (Center of Gravity).