Poly Styrene: I Am a Cliche; Dir. by Celeste Bell and Paul Sng, 2021

 

The thing about Punk Rock is that the hot take is imperative. Disaster Amnesiac mentions this, because as I sit here pondering my viewing experience of Poly Styrene: I Am a Cliche from last night, the thoughts are weighted down by my having neglected to go and post straight away, as opposed to waiting some several hours. A potential hot take on my part is blunted by even that short duration. 

It seems to as though the hot take weighed down upon Marion Elliott-Said, aka Poly Styrene, as well. 

As the history of Punk has shown, and as the film I Am a Cliche reiterates, Marion was swept up into the initial cultural explosion of Britain's 1976 youth movement, and quickly found a somewhat exalted place within it. As Poly Styrene, she used her extensive creative vision in order to put X-Ray Spex together, assemble the band's graphics and image, find decent management, and have the entire package rolling towards music industry success very quickly. 

Marion was clearly gifted with what appeared to this viewer to be innate skills with graphic design, fashion assembly, and musical talent. Scene by scene within the film, Disaster Amnesiac marveled at just how cool her designs were: clean and legible, yet bursting with flair. Ditto that for her outfits, which were adventurous yet not sloppy. One scene shows her at a piano, and I can't help but wonder if she wrote the lion's share of the music for Spex. 

All of this creativity was put forth within the societal hot take of Punk, 1976, and this seems to be when the weight of it encroached upon the consciousness of Marion Elliott-Said in ways that would have lasting, and, in many ways, negative effects upon her. Director Celeste Bell, in a parallel narrative stream to that of the excitement of showbiz Poly Styrene's path, presents the harrowing, heartbreaking events of her mother Marion's real world journey. This aspect of the story presents a woman weighted down by expectations societal, familial, and personal. Disaster Amnesiac got the sense that Elliot-Said was a person who desired much more of an introspectively lived life, a person that truly needed quiet and reflection, yet who, because of the persona that she'd invented, and the need for hot takes on and from it in all realms (can you imagine Kathleen Hanna NOT kicking guys who bum rushed her at CBGB's in the nyuts?), got her perceptions crushed by impossible expectations. The fire of the hot take singed the sensitivities of Marion Elliott-Said in ways that I suspect Bell only hints at in I Am a Cliche. And this was heartbreaking to see and feel as Disaster Amnesiac watched it. Shots of Celeste's face as she strolls the Hastings pier and disperses Marion's ashes into a river in India show the residual pain (and perhaps more complicated emotions, surely) that she dealt with in making the film. Not easy to watch, nor was it to hear her recounting of Marion's post-Punk Rock years as she attempted to find the solace she needed within a world "gone Punk". I wonder what her years spent in a krsna ashram were like on a day-to-day basis, you know? Clips of her singing and spinning around therein made me at times uncomfortable, for I couldn't help but wonder if anything rather less enlightened was brewing behind and around them. Similar musing apply for Disaster Amnesiac to the comeback music. Was Marion in thrall to hot take dream that Poly Styrene so easily navigated again? Some of the photos from that time seem to show someone struggling, at least they do for me. Elliot-Said was aware of her cancer diagnosis at that time, so obviously she was dealing with a lot. Still, the question arose in my mind. Hopefully she got the time to reflect that she needed, before her passing at age 53. 

Poly Styrene: I Am a Cliche goes way beyond the hot take. In so many ways, Marion Elliot-Said did as well. The film is a fine exposition of complex, complicated artist and the profound human being that she so clearly was. Rock on Poly Styrene, and Godspeed, Marion.

Live shot #52!

 

Multi-instrumentalist, composer, visual artist Tony Passarell. Sacramento music scene stalwart. Luna's Cafe, Sacramento 2018.

Live Shot #51!

 

Kentucky Sky, Bluegrass with tight harmonies and great picking. Marana, AZ, 3/2022.

Live Shot #50!

 

Woodwinds player, composer, poet Elliot Levin, Berkeley CA 3/8/2019.

Faust-"Daumenbruch"; Erototox Decodings, 2022

 

That cover art though, right? Disaster Amnesiac feels that it absolutely sums up the Faust modus operandi vis a vis just about everything and everyone. If you know anything about Faust, you know that they have always been a middle finger salute towards the world. Not that I'm sure they're not really nice guys, mind you; Disaster Amnesiac has a really nice memory of bumping into Zappi Diermaier on Valenica St. in San Francisco before a Faust show, dude was friendly and pleasant enough. Still, Faust were, are, and (seemingly) shall remain a bastion of free thought and free action within a world of conformity. 

Speaking of Zappi, here on "Daumenbruch", he is the last man standing from the original gruppe. Where has Jean Harve Peron gone? Hopefully he's OK! Hopefully he and Zappi have not had some weird falling out. That said, Herr Deirmaier seems to have used the opportunity well, and taken firm hold of Faust's direction. This direction is one that is sehr gehmutlich for listeners such as myself, as the group, expanded to an octet of seasoned German musicians and sound artists, boils up three tracks of long form Teutonic Dub, all of which roil and broil with heavy moods and atmospheres. 

"Daumenbruch" kicks off with Weisse Schockolade, twenty two minutes of primal klang that is lead by the initial recording trio of Diermaier, Dirk Dresselhaus on guitar and bass, and Elke Drapatz on percussion and electronics. These three recorded live, and this track, along with the other two, have the characteristic organic feel of a group of people melding their rhythms in the same room. Zappi's heavy, simple beats reign supreme for this kind of action, going all the way back fifty years now. Somehow, Disaster Amnesiac figures he's never going to name checked within the Great Drummer Pantheon, but I doubt that he cares about those kinds of things, especially as he's pounding away. Dresselhaus locks in with Diermaier all the way through, guiding the ears as the piece slides languidly by. Drapatz, along with Gunther Wusthof as Spieluhr, Andrew Unruh on metal percussion, Uwe Bastiansen on guitars and samples, Joachin Arbeit on gutiar and loops, and Sonja Kosche on self-made instruments, harp, and ventilator, all add various sonic textures, riffs, melodic fragments, clicks, clanks, burrs, and buzzes to the mix. Immersive sonic therapy that rewards attentive listening as the drums and bass keep the focus up. Every player seems to place their accents just so within this matrix, leaving plenty of space for their partners. Yeah, just keep that ventilator away from my lungs, and it's all good here on Weisse Schockolade. 

The journey continues with Default Mood. Sparse percussion and electronics set the stage for dissonant guitar chords and loops. The Neubauten guys (Unruh and Arbeit) make their band's presence felt here more than anywhere else on "Daumenbruch", with their excellent use of dramatic silences and spaces. Somehow, Disaster Amnesiac doubts that this was any bother to Zappi. I can't know how he feels about them, but I've often felt that Einsturzende were the natural successors to Faust. It's cool that they've joined forces! About half-way through, the pace quickens, more players throw their sounds into it, and Zappi is marching Default Mood into that great Faust place: all intense, serious German Psychedelic vibes. This form is quite unique, and has had many years to develop. It has done so with a high minded grace that has, thankfully, stuck to its initial aesthetic vision. One could imagine oneself hearing this as a new release in 1972, let alone 2022. This is entirely a good thing! 

"Daumenbruch" concludes with Border River. This piece seems to tie its two predecessors together, in that it has all of the brooding atmospheric action of Schockolade and the pensive feels of Mood. Zappi, as is his way, leads the action with more of that sublime, powerful drumming as the other percussionists accent in syncopation with his advance. Guitars buzz and trill, vaguely Classical bits emerge, drills whinge. Disaster Amnesiac first heard River on KFJC on one recent afternoon, and, before I knew that it was by Faust, it perked up my ears something fierce. Now that it's known to me as a piece by Faust, and I've digested it more, I feel that it may be the the best Faust track ever! All of the elements that make Faust such a special band, all of the sounds that congeal into that singular Faust feel are there, big time, with non-showy electronics and brooding, moody voices pushing the listener into zones of abstraction, possibly uncomfortable, but ultimately mind expanding and radically creative. A unique brand of Heavy Metal, really. 

Many bands these days are going into their fifth decade, but, seriously, how many of them can claim to still be pushing their creative envelope within a really existing voice? Faust can, most certainly. "Daumenbruch" shows that Faust is an unstoppable creative force, even as it takes on an entirely new form. Just, please, someone tell me that Jean Harve Peron is doing fine?