greetings pretty people, good friends and listeners--- the update on volume is color since the nitty gritty july days of on-the-road is that, in fact, the band has evaporated. ask me why and you'll get one story. ask brendan and rafe and you'll get another. that said, a few corrections on our current gig listings are in order. please note that the prop theater performances have been written by me in collaboration with lucas guariglia of the band liftpoint and basil abbott of the iconic chicago band the fans, with video work by niki nolin and emily sepik. performers in that piece include lucas guariglia and myself, with pre-recorded material by basil abbott. the performance is titled perfect kitchen and it points extensively and experimentally outward, in the direction of future performances and musical ventures. please check it out on one of the listed evenings or stay tuned for details through updated links soon to show up on this page. the other performances listed on this page-- at the museum of contemporary art, chicago, and the chicago cultural center-- are scheduled performances of a piece entitled here lies truth that was spearheaded by me and features the work of an 8-artist ensemble that includes both myself and brendan byrnes, in addition to drummer eli sabbagh, movement artists anida yoeu ali, cristal sabbagh, and alycia scott, and video artists niki nolin and jason shipley.

despite the fact that vic ceases to exist, it is cool that this page continues to get a decent amount of hits daily. thanks, you out there, who desire to hear what we wrote in what is already becoming back-in-the-day-land.

and so that, dear ones, is the up-to-the-minute report on where we've been and where we are. as for the future, please keep watch. i'm not sure what dem two boys have been up to, but i can promise from my end that things just keep getting more interesting and that it ain't for the faint of heart or the safety-bound. not, in other words, what one should or could expect.

keep in touch, all. and i will promise the same.
no to war. love--the real kind--rules.
xoxo.



sherry

we're still in nyc and digging it. turning homeward as of tomorrow. with new adventures, new music,
plans galore...

brooklyn rocks as a primary crash place...

His name is Rafe Godfrey (of Quanta and Estesombelo fame), and we couldn't be happier to be playing with him. Rafe is an excellent musician and a super cool human being. So... we're working on new songs now and retro-fitting some of the oldies. We'll be playing out very soon with the new lineup and a new sound...

Sometimes I feel like the only music that really, really matters is the music of Glenn Branca. This is not true of course. But when you are able to penetrate, even for a moment, the infinite universe of sound that is his music, your consciousness is hijacked and taken to a world where sound becomes a visual, physical, and occasionally spiritual experience. Not every moment of his music is amazing. But there are moments, if you are open to them, that allow you to gaze upon the sound of the universe. Glenn doesn't write all of this music. He provides a venue for nature to put on it's fireworks display of overtones, rhythms, and brilliant harmonies. He has helped find a way to access things that are hidden from us, and has done so in a very natural and human way: through an orchestra. Or, more accurately and most notably, an electric guitar orchestra. .................................................................................................................

One could argue that he is not a very skilled composer... and he's not in the traditional western sense. This is because he is using a new instrument, so to speak, of which has no real precedent, but hopefully has a future and a destiny. The idea of a 100 guitar symphony orchestra is not a visionary idea in and of itself (Rhys Chatham actually did the 100 guitar orchestra first), but the way that he wields it's power, is undeniably brilliant.
But enough of the typical praise of Glenn's work- this is supposed to be about my experience...................................................................................................................

Part 1
I found out about Branca when I was eighteen. Some forgotten guitar mag lost in a huge stack, rediscovered out of boredom, featured a small article on him. A picture of a guitar inlayed with tiny microtonal frets rested in front of a tortured looking man, chaotic hair, and a gaze that immediately told you that he didn't give a fuck about what you thought of him. 45 minutes after reading this article I had a copy of "Selections of the Symphonies" playing in my bedroom. It made me feel sick. Fucked up harmony and weird chorus effects do that to me sometimes, but this music was beyond any previous synesthetic experience I had ever had. The colors were overwhelming, almost impossible to understand on first listen. I turned it off. I knew that there would be a right time to digest this later............................................................................................................................

My first year in college I took an orchestration class and was given an assignment to bring in a short clip of my favorite orchestrated music. Now, Branca is pretty damn rock and roll for a composer, and as the story goes, he really pissed off John Cage with "Indeterminate Activity for Resultant Masses". My theory is that Cage was jealous, but music that can infuriate an experimental composer apparently has to be handled tactfully. I worried that my professor wouldn't get it and subsequently embarrass me with some lame fucking electric guitar player joke. He didn't seem to be very fond of rock and rollers like myself, and Branca was way more rock and roll than I was. ...........................................................................................................................

I had to field questions for almost fifteen minutes after the clip was played. I hated being in front of everyone, but I was eager to share the little information I had, and judging by the fact that the students looked like a group of toddlers that had accidentally been shown a porn flick, I started to feel more comfortable.
Fortunately, it had blown my professor's mind . He asked me for copies of anything I had by Branca, as the record stores of the sleepy college town surely didn't carry anything of his. My professor kind of warmed up to me after that- but the point of all this is that everyone's reaction made me wonder why Branca is a virtual unknown, even in classical music circles. Maybe everyone is jealous... I know that I am a little bit...............................................................................................................................

I finally got to meet Glenn in Boston when he was doing a show with his "harmonics guitar"- two guitars spliced together via one guitar neck and set of strings. My best friend Felipe and I showed up early, not wanting to miss a thing. We attempted to conceal the fact that we were a little bit star struck when Glenn rolled out of his van, and I noticed we both kind of wanted to be the one to hold the door open for him as he schleped his amplifier into the club, disappearing into the back stage area.
Before Glenn and his band went on, Felipe returned from the bathroom in a panic, which is normal, but instructed me to follow him backstage. So I did. Expectantly..................................................................................................................

Felipe had met Glenn Branca in the bathroom- certainly, the most anecdotal place to meet your hero. He must have been a dead giveaway as a big fan, because Branca couldn't help but mutter a surrendering "aww shit", reluctantly acknowledging Felipe's paralysis. Branca explained, without mincing words, that he had to take a shit, but told my good friend to go have a look at the harmonics guitar back stage. Felipe, of course, dutifully extended the invitation to me which brings us back to the "Felipe returned from the bathroom in a panic" part of the story. .........................................................................................................................

I wasn't able to have the type of in depth conversation that Felipe had with Glenn, but a few handshakes and thanks were exchanged between us and we were able to watch Glenn piss off a large portion of the unprepared audience with 45 minutes of violent, drunken noise making. It wasn't the guitar symphony experience that had defined Branca for us, but at least we had met a legendary figure that night, and Felipe now had some reliable material for his nascent Glenn Branca impression. ................................................................................................................

Part 2
My emails to Glenn had served me well, and years later I found myself in a recording studio in Queens with 100 empty chairs, 100 empty music stands, and eventually 100 guitars, amplifiers, and musicians attempting to record Glenn Branca's "Hallucination City". Even sound check sounded incredible, with my section of 10 guitars all tuned to B octave/unison tuning, double strumming in focused ecstasy, getting our first taste of the glorious sound that we had all come to admire and had hoped to experience first hand. 15 cigarettes later, it was time to rehearse, and Glenn approached the podium. After a few volume checks for each section, the moment had finally come... Glenn commanded us to let let him have it. ...............................................................................................................................

I have never had a near death experience, but I imagine that the uncertainty of what your body and mind are going through might be similar. You don't know at first whether you are in the presence of something evil or benevolent. You feel like you become one with the vibration of your surroundings (or just become aware that you are one with it- depending on your point of view). Your sense of individuality is lost for a moment, and then you enjoy the sensation that you are creating the sound with one guitar, your hand striving to reach humming bird speeds. At last, you are forced to surrender to what these unknown forces of nature have in store for you with a complacent courage.......................................................................................................................

This, I can now see, is what Glenn lives for. He knows this sound better than anyone, and he is overjoyed to be reunited with it again. Shaking the podium in rapture, he howls (probably- he wasn't exactly audible) at the angels and demons released from another dimension. The podium is dry humped, maniacally pounded upon and finally spared as Glenn staggers, almost to the floor, begging us to give him more. I'm laughing now because the experience is so beautiful, but like everyone else, I oblige and play louder, as a gust of deafening sound energy sweeps over our heads with the majesty of a tornado (I'm only assuming tornados are majestic). The ensemble has now been initiated into a previously forbidden sound world. And we let our ears run off and play. ...........................................................................................................................

To be honest, that's the best part. I could go on about the tribulations of the rest of the session. The asshole engineer who ruined the whole Kaufmann-Astoria session, the troubles they went through to make the drums even slightly fucking audible, the joy of rehearsing sections of the piece, what it felt like when you were nailing the parts in unison with the rest of your section. Then there's the conversation I had with Branca about his custom harpsichord-like instruments tuned to the harmonic series, the inspiration to contemplate the power and potential of the electric guitar, the fact that Branca is a badass, and the fact that I had the time of my life. But with Branca, it's about the moment- however long. And if you have ever had the pleasure of having one, you know what I mean. Felipe has had plenty. I'm sure everyone else who has played in Branca' s ensemble has had them... and I hope my family and friends get to have one when they come to the show in L.A. ...........................................................................................................................

Hours before the performance in New Jersey I overheard Glenn mention to the conductor that he was done with the whole thing- he had already heard what he wanted during recording and rehearsal. He didn't even want to be there for the performance. I can kind of relate to that, because for me, I don't need to hear it all the time. If I just hear it once in a while, I am reminded that God or whatever is, exists in sound- and he/she/it can manifest itself and shine brightly through it . That memory can stay with me for a long time, after all, I think that at it's best his music puts you face to face with the fractal beauty that nature is made of. And that means that it is inside of us. It doesn't go away. And now, after Branca, my awareness of this simple and important truth is permanent as well.


Brendan Byrnes 2006