Their methods were controversial, the results debatable, but it cannot be denied that their legacy is an intriguing one. Their handful of studio albums careen violently between squalling noise, Genesis P. Orridge's tunelessly nasal vocals intoning strange and frequently disturbing lyrics and bizarrely incongruous tinkly electronic dance pop. The bulk of their output came, however, in the form of live recordings. Throbbing Gristle recorded every single one of the 36 live shows they ever did. This resulted in the (in)famous 24 Hours boxed set, a briefcase containing a grand total of 24 C60 tapes and providing enough Throbbing Gristle to last an entire day and night. In fact, this was later improved upon by a similar set of no less than 33 tapes, but it's the 24 Hours set that is best remembered.
Given this vast amount of material to work from, distilling 36 hours of recordings down to just four compact discs must have been a major task but the man assigned with the task, Brian Lustmord, has done an excellent job, mercilessly paring a day and a half of recordings down to just 4 hours and 40 minutes that represent the very best of Throbbing Gristle's live output.
The material has been sensibly organised, split between four compact discs by date of recording. Overlapping the periods covered by each disc has allowed the material to be optimally placed, resulting in four very full discs that are individually self-contained but that build, volume by volume, into an equally self-contained but larger work. Each disc is nicely but sparely packaged, with a track listing and "Death Factory" image on the back cover, a brief passage on the rationale behind Throbbing Gristle by Cosey Fanni Tutti on the inside front cover and one of four images (two by Chris Carter, one each by Cosey and Peter Christopherson) on the outside front cover. Additionally, each image is partly obscured by a thin sheet of vellum-like material bearing the TG logo which slides in front of it. Although all four discs are available individually, they are also available as a limited edition boxed set which packages all four discs in a card box covered in the TG urban camouflage pattern and also makes the spines of all four discs line up to show another TG flash.
Leaving aside the undoubted aesthetic appeal of the boxed set for a moment, let's go onto the contents of the discs themselves...
"No Two Ways", from the Winchester show, is a listenable blend of distorted guitar rhythms and nice wurbly electronic effects, with the latter coming to dominate and metamorphosing into a high-pitched whine towards the end of the track. Not exactly what you'd call easy listening, but it has that hypnotic quality characteristic of all TG's better instrumental pieces. "Last Exit" is a more subtle piece, starting as a mixture of tapes and brooding electronic drones and gradually adding in intermittent bursts of noise and a wonderfully gristly electronic rhythm which always threatens to take control. Eventually an echo-laden Genesis P. Orridge appears, narrating a jolly little cut-up style story that must have gone down a treat with the Royal Family (and that makes all the fuss at the time over the Sex Pistols "God Save The Queen" seem silly in the extreme).
Next are two tracks recorded in 1977 at a show in Southampton. First comes "Forced Entry", a lengthy electronics piece. As usual, it's varied, beautifully textured, noisy and dissonant without being too hard on the ears. Unusually for TG tracks of this ilk, it even approaches conventional musicality in places. It runs straight into "National Affront", which is in similar vein but mixes in the occasional tape and extremely heavily distorted vocals. The balance between electronic drones and (equally heavily distorted) guitar eventually swings towards the latter, with squelchy bursts of guitar overlaying subdued electronic tones and Gen's unintelligible vocals - not that the unintelligibility is a bad thing, quite often you don't particularly want to know what he's saying.
"A Nod And A Wank", from the Winchester Art College show, is a typical blend of loping guitar, noisy electronics and tapes, this time featuring large amounts of Shaw Taylor from "Police 5". "Feeling Critical" leads off with a lengthy tape sequence (what sounds like a US police documentary over more Shaw Taylor) before heading into TG distorted guitar territory, with Mr Orridge vocalising over the top. It's not a personal favourite, I must admit, and suffers by being placed at the end of a run of better tracks, but it's not bad.
This first disc is rounded off by the "New After Cease To Exist Soundtrack" which, if my memory serves, was originally the soundtrack to a Coum Transmissions performance. This was recorded in 1978 at the London Film Maker's Co-Op, and is a fairly typical TG noise piece, with pulsing and squelching electronics, the occasional recognisable note and a variety of other rumbling, crashing, screaming electronic sounds bobbing around. It fades after a couple of minutes into the sounds of howling wind then returns in louder and more annoying form, with electronic screeches raining down upon the listener. Nice stuff.
So, overall, the first disc is a nicely mixed selection of tracks. There are no real duds, plenty of those wonderful electronic noise pieces and a smattering of vocal material. What more could you ask for? Well, for starters, how about...
Having made sure the audience are fully awake (as well as stone-deaf and quite probably homicidal), we are then entertained by a full ten minutes of "Knife In My Side". Lots of tapes, lots of distorted guitar, plenty of noise, plenty of Genesis and a crowd who don't seem to be paying much attention. Which is a shame, as the crowd noise is a definite distraction and you find yourself welcoming the feedback that drowns them out. Not bad, but like most of the tracks in this section it goes on a bit too long.
Hey, what's this? "Urge To Kill" has something that could almost be considered to be a tune! Almost. Nobody told Genesis, but he still tries his best. "Assume Power Focus" rounds off the material from this show and combines almost painfully noisy electronics and guitar with subliminal tapes and largely unintelligible vocals from Genesis. Umm, no, not a personal favourite.
"IBM" doesn't, initially at least, differ too drastically from the version on D.O.A. Then again, what would you expect from a track based around the noise of a computer tape? The tape disappears after a while, leaving the pulsing electronic drones and noises that you associate with Throbbing Gristle in noise mode. The track runs straight into "It's Always The Way". The version of "Hamburger Lady" included here is excellent, even more eerie and disturbing than the original.
The next two tracks are from a show at the aptly named Industrial Training College, Wakefield. "Mother Spunk" centres around a couple of fairly bizarre tapes, one about a compulsive swallower and another one that's just plain strange. "Cabaret Voltaire" is...maybe a tribute? A collaboration? It certainly sounds a little like that group in places, although the Cabs never sounded quite as strange. The album is rounded off by a rather good version of "D.O.A." with the associated tapes, noises and plinking electronics.
In all, another good disc although not quite up to the standard of the first volume. Perhaps it's the change in stress from unstructured but relatively quiet electronic pieces to more serious noise and the greater proportion of vocals tracks, but I just didn't like this volume as much as the first. True, there's some real standout tracks ("Hamburger Lady", "IBM", "D.O.A.") but the rest is rather unsatisfying. It's still a decent listen though, and who knows, maybe there's more good stuff on...
The three tracks from The Crypt Club open with a beautifully treated introduction from Genesis where he introduces the group and informs us that "tonight is family night". The aptly named "Whistling Song" opens by fusing a tape of someone whistling with suitable synth tones that suggest The Crypt Club has been invaded by Clangers. Various other tapes (TV documentaries, news and lingerie adverts by the sound of them) and drones are added to the collage and eventually, after a good scream or three, Genesis contemplates the meaninglessness of a life alone, returning home alone each night to the cats and no food. Of course, the relative calm of his narration can't last, so he starts screaming again. It's an effective song and the contrast between the relative sanity and pathos of the spoken sequence and the usual screaming works well.
"Industrial Muzak" is an unusually rhythmic piece, perhaps the closest to the tinkly electronic pop of "AB/7A" or similar that this set gets. It's not lightweight pop by any stretch of the imagination, and is as noisy and strange as any TG track, but it does have a recognisable and clear rhythm, which is something that can't be said for much of the groups material.
The lengthy set from the Manchester show begins with "Weapon Training", a lengthy tape segment of a weapons demonstration over which Genesis proceeds to indulge in a little misinformation ("Good evening, we're Throbbing Gristle, we come from Dallas, Texas"). Muted synth tones lead the way into the throbbing electronics of "See You Are". This is another surprisingly musical track, with uncharacteristically tuneful guitar over a background of grinding, pulsing electronics and (eventually) heavily treated vocals. Good stuff, one of my favourites.
"Convincing People" is another TG classic, a swooping wash of sound giving way to that distinctive rhythm, the usual assortment of weird and wonderful electronic noises and eventually Gen's vocals. My particular listening experience was enhanced by someone in the office next door using a power drill - it blended beautifully with the music. However, I doubt that my other half will ever let me live down the fact that I initially thought it was part of the track.
Genesis dedicates "His Arm Was Her Leg" to Manchester, where he grew up (or so he claims, you can never tell with Genesis who one could quite feasily imagine was grown in a bottle). It's surprisingly rocky, although it does of course have that noisy, distorted TG twist to it. The live "What A Day" has a wonderful tape and noise gate intro, leading into that familiar combination of lurching grind and drunken, slurred vocals.
Two tracks are included from a performance at the Guild Hall, Northampton which opens with similarly slurred and nonsensical vocals suggesting that either Gen has been overindulging and/or has suffered a funny turn. The track itself is an interesting mix of heavily treated Orridge screams and shouts, shards of guitar and pulsing electronic tones which eventually fades into what sounds like some sort of gated movie score. This blends into "They Make No Say", where sounds swirl and merge, heavily overdriven tapes utter unidentifiable or unintelligible phrases, cheapo rhythms suggest we've been mysteriously transported to the Hawaiian Lounge of the Trocadero, Slough, while Genesis's ranting and screaming confirms that we haven't.
This third volume is terminated by the lengthy "Wet Weird & Smeared", notable primarily for Genesis screaming rather a lot (as if this was unusual), electronic shrieks, big band music and snippets of the film "Dark Star". Well, never let it be said that Throbbing Gristle didn't give varied entertainment.
This volume is definitely an improvement on Volume Two. Quite why is difficult to say - perhaps the electronic effects are more intricate, perhaps the songs are more varied, perhaps Gen just doesn't shout as much. Whichever, it's a good disc. Which only leaves me to review...
"An Old Man Smiled", from a 1980 show in Berlin, is more vocally-oriented, with Genesis singing over the top of a bouncy rhythm track and typical guitar noise. "Russ" is a frequently unintelligible Orridge monologue about a young boy being burned alive. Cheerful stuff indeed.
The first of the two tracks from Sheffield on this disc is "Tortured Smiles", an eerie piece combining tapes, the occasional echoed vocal snippet and heavily distorted violin. Oh, and the inevitable barrage of electronic effects, of course. "We Said No" is more musical, combining a laid-back and heavily distorted guitar rhythm with the usual effects and strangely wailed vocals.
"Auschwitz" is a darkly brooding, extremely atmospheric piece - industrial muzak for concentration camps. Genesis's vocals are mercifully absent, the track being a mix of melancholy electronics, subtle guitar and mournful cornet. Definitely one of the group's most effective instrumental tracks. This leads straight into the electronic `screaming' and pattering percussion of "Devil's Gateway" which is effective in its own right but pales beside the impact of "Auschwitz".
"Trained Condition Of Obedience", from the same Berlin show as "An Old Man Smiled" showcases distorted and gated taped vocals as well as Gen's doom-laden intonations. The next two tracks are taken from the same Factory Manchester show as the five on Volume 3. The poppy (by live TG standards) "Five Knuckle Shuffle" features a distinctive rhythm and unusually clear vocals by Genesis (although it must be said that he's not saying anything much of consequence). This track leads into "Wall Of Sound" which is...well, the title pretty much says it all, doesn't it? As walls of sound go, it's rather impressive.
The final track is another version of "Wall Of Sound" from the Oundle Public School show. It's also the one odd choice of track on the CD. True, it's a different wall this time, but having the same track (well, a track with the same title) twice consecutively on the disc is a little odd. Why couldn't the first one have been put on Volume 3 instead? Oh well, it's about the only real cause for complaint I have with this disc which is, unsurprisingly, every bit as good as the others.
The sound quality of all four discs varies between "good, considering" and excellent. Few of the original recordings from which this set is assembled were what could be called hi-fidelity, but Chris Carter has done a good job cleaning them up for the set. There are crackles, and clicks, and tape hum, but only on a few of the tracks and never to such a degree that they make anything unlistenable. Any noise you might hear is, for the most part, intentional. Some of the tracks are remarkably clear and could easily pass for studio recordings.
Those familiar with my reviews will note the absence of any "Erland Rating" on these discs. I've done this simply because this set was very difficult to rate in those terms. It's very much a black and white situation - this disc is an essential for the serious Throbbing Gristle collector that couldn't be rated on a mere -5 to +5 scale, but at the same time the casually interested should be equally strongly cautioned about buying this set. This is difficult listening, and 280 minutes of live TG is only for the strong of stomach.
The uninitiated would be far better served by a gentler introduction to the TG portfolio such as Throbbing Gristle's Greatest Hits which gives some indication of the extremes of their work but tempers it with less avant garde work. For those who've heard some studio TG and want to explore their live work, though, perhaps picking up just one of these discs would be the answer (you can always, after all, pick up the rest later). My personal recommendation would fall on Volume One, but you're unlikely to go far wrong with any of them. In brief...
"I'm a TG fiend" - buy it, now, immediately.
"Who are Throbbing Gristle?" - don't buy it.
Oh, and one final point - anybody (and they know who they are) who proceeds to dissect this review and painstakingly count the number of times I used the phrase "pulsing electronics", "heavily distorted vocals" or similar should (metaphorically at least) wash their mouth out with soap. It ain't easy reviewing almost five solid hours of industrial noisemongery, y'know, and the 'ole limited vocabulary starts to run out of words relatively quickly :-)
Al Crawford / awrc@access.digex.net