The Swans Filth or... "How I Learned To Make Sense Of Side Two of Black Flag's My War."

by Jeff Waye - Ninja Tune Records

You know what, I liked the 80s; There I said it―unpopular I know.  But it's not for, say, the puffy hair, tragically bad phases of otherwise great bands and emergence of an over reliance on recording technology (all terrible things granted... but enough of the anti-80s). The 80s produced some of the best dancehall/reggae, was the breeding ground for indie-rock/hardcore, and was arguably the golden age of hip-hop (not to mention BMX movie Rad which still totally rules... "Hell Track"... anyone... anyone?) Most importantly it saw the release of what I consider to be one of the best albums of all time: the Swans Filth.

Picture this: 15 years old, living the dream job of working in a used/new record store. The CD is a new technology. Every day somebody walks in with like 100 albums and leaves happy with 5 CD's in exchange. Myself and the rest of the staff are left to pilfer the stash with our cost +10% store deal, which leads to lots of moments of "hmmm... Can...never heard of them, but entire discography for $30... okay sure.” Up to this point my entire musical love could be summed up by an unwavering love of metal and hardcore. I'd go to the mat to argue the validity of say, Sacred Reich, as being a really important music act (in hindsight Surf Nicaragua does not really have the staying power I thought it would—go figure). I was convinced that clearly there was nothing heavier in the world then Anthrax and Slayer. The only reason I'd heard of Crass was because Napalm Death released a track on one of their comps and I was a few months away from meeting my friend who's dad was in The Nihilist Spasm Band and hence stumbling into a world of free music (in the performance sense... as opposed to the not paying sense... you damn web 2.0 kids). To sum it up, basically unless it dealt with slaying dragons, Satan or exhibited a thin understanding of world politics, it just wasn't "heavy."

So it's at this point where in one of those previously mentioned stacks of abandoned vinyl I pulled out some sparse ass looking record. All black with a red border, with a close up of someone's bared teeth peeking through the black, menacing as fuck and like nothing I'd seen before—and yet they were called the Swans? What the hell? Turning it over I notice they have 2 drummers but something told me this wasn't some Grateful Dead drum circle shit. There's another equally minimal release next to it by the Swans called Cop, $8 + 10% for both... sure why not... at worst I was going to lose my 10% selling it back to the store. I go home, drop the needle and life changes for good.

A slow ass rumbling bass line, a pummeling, painfully slow drum beat, check to make sure it's on the right speed (yes), de-tuned guitar and then someone howling like these were the last words they wanted to get out before dying...

be strong
be hard
resist temptation
stick your hand in your eye
close your fist
resist
flex your muscles
walk on this line
look straight ahead
flex your muscles
be hard
come back for more

All of which unfolds and ends with this Michael Gira cat just repeating "be hard" and "flex your muscles" like the words were stabbing him in the face or at the very least he was probably cutting himself while saying it. I remember putting the needle back about 10 times before ever hearing what the second song sounded like. Eventually I got through the whole album... "Blackout", "Right Wrong", "Weakling", "Freak"... even a track called "Thank You" which unsurprisingly didn't sound very thankful at all. This was anger, despair, depression, violence... the bleakest of bleak all captured on vinyl.  This was something I'd never heard before, with the exception of side two of Black Flag's My War , which me and all my friends always skipped over for not being as good as Damaged. This was music to punch walls to, music to hate people to, music to not have a girlfriend to, and music stripped of excess. No solo's, no flash, no stuffed pants, no wizard shit, nothing to date it, just fucking big primal sound and holy crap did I love it. This made everything up to this point seem like a joke (yeah Anthrax and that whole Judge Dread thing... that was pretty cutting edge right?). Enough of this comic book metal, I needed more of this. I can't overstate enough what this record led me to—Current 93, Diamanda Galas, Butthole Surfers, Nick Cave, P.I.L, Nurse With Wound, Lydia Lunch, Sonic Youth, Richard Kern, God Flesh, Killing Joke, Foetus, Einsturzende Neubauten, free jazz, kraut-rock, dub... I could go on forever here but this was the turning point. And this record may be part of why I'm still living this extended teenage existence working in music. 

In the end Michael Gira kept on going. The Swans got a bit more mellow but no less vital and I would put his Angels Of Light We Are Him album as one of the finest albums of this current decade. Oh and did I mention the Swans are reforming and coming to Montreal in October, 4 weeks after the projected birth of my daughter (baby's first concert... headphones purchased...full circle shit... fuck yeah!)

Jeff Waye - June 2010

*** by day Jeff Waye  is a partner in/runs Ninja Tune Records home to Ghislain Poirier, Amon Tobin, Cinematic Orchestra, The Death Set and tons more. He is also partner in Third Side Music Publishing, DJ's under the name Ghostbeard, and spends a lot of company time talking to Kevin Martin/The Bug about how good The Swans are.

Comments

[radwan ghazi moumneh]

what a masterpiece.

[Stephen Evans]

Saw the Swans at Club Soda in about 1991. Very loud and beautiful/