Pere Ubu's epochal debut album, 'The Modern Dance' is one of the 1970s' most influential records, melting raw American punk with musique concrète and free jazz to form the foundations of post-punk. This Fire edition has been transferred from the original analog 2-track tapes and re-mastered by Starving Weirdos' Brian Pyle.
Just as The Beach Boys had captured '60s California with their run of sunny, psychedelic jaunts, Pere Ubu managed to bottle the essence of Cleveland, Ohio and the wider steel belt, just before deindustrialisation renamed it the rust belt. When they released 'The Modern Dance' in 1978, there hadn't been anything quite like it before. The band was fronted by vocalist David Thomas, who grabbed a couple of his bandmates from proto-punk band Rocket From The Tombs and entered into a new artistic phase, keeping rock and blues at the core but sidestepping into wilder, untapped territory. Thomas's unruly, politically-charged lyrics gave the music a focus for critics, but the band's instrumentation was brand new, with Allen Ravenstine's synth squeals, sax wails and tape loops interrupting the punky, angular - and ostensibly more recognizable - elements from bassist Tony Maimone, guitarist Tom Herman and drummer Scott Krauss.
Pere Ubu were inspired by Captain Beefheart and The Velvet Underground, but they weren't driven by repetition. Just skip to 'Real World', that opens with a good half-minute of dissonant electronics and radio static before a low-slung, dubby rhythm indicates there might be a song coming. And Thomas's itchy, unpredictable delivery, while it echoed punk, felt different - even now, after decades of imitators, he still sounds out on his own, retching from a snigger to a snarl or a terse, poetic staccato without taking a breath. On the title track meanwhile, a chugging krautrock groove is industrialized by dense field recordings and bursts of white noise - it's not a million miles away from Can or Neu!, but Pere Ubu were reflecting their bombed-out Cleveland surroundings (the air raid siren sounds on 'Over My Head' aren't an accident) and its derelict warehouses and ailing factories.
There's a level of chaos here that Thomas and his collaborators are able to control without neutering the revolutionary potential: on 'Laughing' they lapse into free improv, with wailing sax loops that resonate into a nauseating third tone, and, backed by throbbing crowd noise, 'Chinese Radiation' lurches from electronic squiggles and languid riffs into deranged, furious garage rawk before evaporating into dreamy, sardonic cabaret. Without this record, it'd be hard to imagine underground music sounding quite the same - whether you're into Sonic Youth, Pixies, Gang of Four or The Pop Group, Pere Ubu's fingerprints are all daubed all across the musical map.
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Pere Ubu's epochal debut album, 'The Modern Dance' is one of the 1970s' most influential records, melting raw American punk with musique concrète and free jazz to form the foundations of post-punk. This Fire edition has been transferred from the original analog 2-track tapes and re-mastered by Starving Weirdos' Brian Pyle.
Just as The Beach Boys had captured '60s California with their run of sunny, psychedelic jaunts, Pere Ubu managed to bottle the essence of Cleveland, Ohio and the wider steel belt, just before deindustrialisation renamed it the rust belt. When they released 'The Modern Dance' in 1978, there hadn't been anything quite like it before. The band was fronted by vocalist David Thomas, who grabbed a couple of his bandmates from proto-punk band Rocket From The Tombs and entered into a new artistic phase, keeping rock and blues at the core but sidestepping into wilder, untapped territory. Thomas's unruly, politically-charged lyrics gave the music a focus for critics, but the band's instrumentation was brand new, with Allen Ravenstine's synth squeals, sax wails and tape loops interrupting the punky, angular - and ostensibly more recognizable - elements from bassist Tony Maimone, guitarist Tom Herman and drummer Scott Krauss.
Pere Ubu were inspired by Captain Beefheart and The Velvet Underground, but they weren't driven by repetition. Just skip to 'Real World', that opens with a good half-minute of dissonant electronics and radio static before a low-slung, dubby rhythm indicates there might be a song coming. And Thomas's itchy, unpredictable delivery, while it echoed punk, felt different - even now, after decades of imitators, he still sounds out on his own, retching from a snigger to a snarl or a terse, poetic staccato without taking a breath. On the title track meanwhile, a chugging krautrock groove is industrialized by dense field recordings and bursts of white noise - it's not a million miles away from Can or Neu!, but Pere Ubu were reflecting their bombed-out Cleveland surroundings (the air raid siren sounds on 'Over My Head' aren't an accident) and its derelict warehouses and ailing factories.
There's a level of chaos here that Thomas and his collaborators are able to control without neutering the revolutionary potential: on 'Laughing' they lapse into free improv, with wailing sax loops that resonate into a nauseating third tone, and, backed by throbbing crowd noise, 'Chinese Radiation' lurches from electronic squiggles and languid riffs into deranged, furious garage rawk before evaporating into dreamy, sardonic cabaret. Without this record, it'd be hard to imagine underground music sounding quite the same - whether you're into Sonic Youth, Pixies, Gang of Four or The Pop Group, Pere Ubu's fingerprints are all daubed all across the musical map.
Pere Ubu's epochal debut album, 'The Modern Dance' is one of the 1970s' most influential records, melting raw American punk with musique concrète and free jazz to form the foundations of post-punk. This Fire edition has been transferred from the original analog 2-track tapes and re-mastered by Starving Weirdos' Brian Pyle.
Just as The Beach Boys had captured '60s California with their run of sunny, psychedelic jaunts, Pere Ubu managed to bottle the essence of Cleveland, Ohio and the wider steel belt, just before deindustrialisation renamed it the rust belt. When they released 'The Modern Dance' in 1978, there hadn't been anything quite like it before. The band was fronted by vocalist David Thomas, who grabbed a couple of his bandmates from proto-punk band Rocket From The Tombs and entered into a new artistic phase, keeping rock and blues at the core but sidestepping into wilder, untapped territory. Thomas's unruly, politically-charged lyrics gave the music a focus for critics, but the band's instrumentation was brand new, with Allen Ravenstine's synth squeals, sax wails and tape loops interrupting the punky, angular - and ostensibly more recognizable - elements from bassist Tony Maimone, guitarist Tom Herman and drummer Scott Krauss.
Pere Ubu were inspired by Captain Beefheart and The Velvet Underground, but they weren't driven by repetition. Just skip to 'Real World', that opens with a good half-minute of dissonant electronics and radio static before a low-slung, dubby rhythm indicates there might be a song coming. And Thomas's itchy, unpredictable delivery, while it echoed punk, felt different - even now, after decades of imitators, he still sounds out on his own, retching from a snigger to a snarl or a terse, poetic staccato without taking a breath. On the title track meanwhile, a chugging krautrock groove is industrialized by dense field recordings and bursts of white noise - it's not a million miles away from Can or Neu!, but Pere Ubu were reflecting their bombed-out Cleveland surroundings (the air raid siren sounds on 'Over My Head' aren't an accident) and its derelict warehouses and ailing factories.
There's a level of chaos here that Thomas and his collaborators are able to control without neutering the revolutionary potential: on 'Laughing' they lapse into free improv, with wailing sax loops that resonate into a nauseating third tone, and, backed by throbbing crowd noise, 'Chinese Radiation' lurches from electronic squiggles and languid riffs into deranged, furious garage rawk before evaporating into dreamy, sardonic cabaret. Without this record, it'd be hard to imagine underground music sounding quite the same - whether you're into Sonic Youth, Pixies, Gang of Four or The Pop Group, Pere Ubu's fingerprints are all daubed all across the musical map.
Pere Ubu's epochal debut album, 'The Modern Dance' is one of the 1970s' most influential records, melting raw American punk with musique concrète and free jazz to form the foundations of post-punk. This Fire edition has been transferred from the original analog 2-track tapes and re-mastered by Starving Weirdos' Brian Pyle.
Just as The Beach Boys had captured '60s California with their run of sunny, psychedelic jaunts, Pere Ubu managed to bottle the essence of Cleveland, Ohio and the wider steel belt, just before deindustrialisation renamed it the rust belt. When they released 'The Modern Dance' in 1978, there hadn't been anything quite like it before. The band was fronted by vocalist David Thomas, who grabbed a couple of his bandmates from proto-punk band Rocket From The Tombs and entered into a new artistic phase, keeping rock and blues at the core but sidestepping into wilder, untapped territory. Thomas's unruly, politically-charged lyrics gave the music a focus for critics, but the band's instrumentation was brand new, with Allen Ravenstine's synth squeals, sax wails and tape loops interrupting the punky, angular - and ostensibly more recognizable - elements from bassist Tony Maimone, guitarist Tom Herman and drummer Scott Krauss.
Pere Ubu were inspired by Captain Beefheart and The Velvet Underground, but they weren't driven by repetition. Just skip to 'Real World', that opens with a good half-minute of dissonant electronics and radio static before a low-slung, dubby rhythm indicates there might be a song coming. And Thomas's itchy, unpredictable delivery, while it echoed punk, felt different - even now, after decades of imitators, he still sounds out on his own, retching from a snigger to a snarl or a terse, poetic staccato without taking a breath. On the title track meanwhile, a chugging krautrock groove is industrialized by dense field recordings and bursts of white noise - it's not a million miles away from Can or Neu!, but Pere Ubu were reflecting their bombed-out Cleveland surroundings (the air raid siren sounds on 'Over My Head' aren't an accident) and its derelict warehouses and ailing factories.
There's a level of chaos here that Thomas and his collaborators are able to control without neutering the revolutionary potential: on 'Laughing' they lapse into free improv, with wailing sax loops that resonate into a nauseating third tone, and, backed by throbbing crowd noise, 'Chinese Radiation' lurches from electronic squiggles and languid riffs into deranged, furious garage rawk before evaporating into dreamy, sardonic cabaret. Without this record, it'd be hard to imagine underground music sounding quite the same - whether you're into Sonic Youth, Pixies, Gang of Four or The Pop Group, Pere Ubu's fingerprints are all daubed all across the musical map.
2024 pressing.
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Pere Ubu's epochal debut album, 'The Modern Dance' is one of the 1970s' most influential records, melting raw American punk with musique concrète and free jazz to form the foundations of post-punk. This Fire edition has been transferred from the original analog 2-track tapes and re-mastered by Starving Weirdos' Brian Pyle.
Just as The Beach Boys had captured '60s California with their run of sunny, psychedelic jaunts, Pere Ubu managed to bottle the essence of Cleveland, Ohio and the wider steel belt, just before deindustrialisation renamed it the rust belt. When they released 'The Modern Dance' in 1978, there hadn't been anything quite like it before. The band was fronted by vocalist David Thomas, who grabbed a couple of his bandmates from proto-punk band Rocket From The Tombs and entered into a new artistic phase, keeping rock and blues at the core but sidestepping into wilder, untapped territory. Thomas's unruly, politically-charged lyrics gave the music a focus for critics, but the band's instrumentation was brand new, with Allen Ravenstine's synth squeals, sax wails and tape loops interrupting the punky, angular - and ostensibly more recognizable - elements from bassist Tony Maimone, guitarist Tom Herman and drummer Scott Krauss.
Pere Ubu were inspired by Captain Beefheart and The Velvet Underground, but they weren't driven by repetition. Just skip to 'Real World', that opens with a good half-minute of dissonant electronics and radio static before a low-slung, dubby rhythm indicates there might be a song coming. And Thomas's itchy, unpredictable delivery, while it echoed punk, felt different - even now, after decades of imitators, he still sounds out on his own, retching from a snigger to a snarl or a terse, poetic staccato without taking a breath. On the title track meanwhile, a chugging krautrock groove is industrialized by dense field recordings and bursts of white noise - it's not a million miles away from Can or Neu!, but Pere Ubu were reflecting their bombed-out Cleveland surroundings (the air raid siren sounds on 'Over My Head' aren't an accident) and its derelict warehouses and ailing factories.
There's a level of chaos here that Thomas and his collaborators are able to control without neutering the revolutionary potential: on 'Laughing' they lapse into free improv, with wailing sax loops that resonate into a nauseating third tone, and, backed by throbbing crowd noise, 'Chinese Radiation' lurches from electronic squiggles and languid riffs into deranged, furious garage rawk before evaporating into dreamy, sardonic cabaret. Without this record, it'd be hard to imagine underground music sounding quite the same - whether you're into Sonic Youth, Pixies, Gang of Four or The Pop Group, Pere Ubu's fingerprints are all daubed all across the musical map.