Category Archives: Obituary

Jerry Fuchs, R.I.P.

(Image of Jerry Fuchs from the New York Times.)

By now, the unfortunate and tragic death of Jerry Fuchs on Saturday night is common knowledge. However, I felt I had to write some sort of obituary, though late, if only to acknowledge how great a friend Jerry was to me.

Maserati, one of Jerry’s main music concerns, played here in Louisville at the Zanzabar back in September, and I was lucky enough to be able to DJ the gig. Doing so meant a lot to me, as Jerry and I had been friends since I lived in Brooklyn in the middle part of this decade. Unfortunately, I hadn’t talked with Jerry since I left Brooklyn to come home to Louisville in October, 2007, but the minute Maserati’s van pulled up to the Zanzabar, it was like only a few days had gone by since we’d last seen each other. We partied on into the night, then lunched at Zanzabar the next day, then Jerry and his compatriots were nice enough to drive me back to work for my double shift.

Strangely enough, we didn’t meet originally through music, but through football: we both used to watch Steelers games over at Doug Mosurock‘s apartment. It only dawned on me later that Jerry missed a week or two of games here and there because he was on tour. But, again, when we’d run into each other on the street, at a party, at Daddy’s or Sal’s Pizza or wherever, it always seemed that time hadn’t passed at all, due to Jerry’s generosity of spirit.

A number of Jerry’s friends have written some fantastic remembrances of him, and for a wonderfully detailed portait of an excellent person, please read Henry Owings’ entry over at Chunklet. I don’t have much more to add, other than I miss my friend very much.

UPDATE: If you’re in New York City, there will be a memorial service for Jerry at Enid’s in Greenpoint, Brooklyn this Thursday, November 12th, between 7 and 11 PM. Enid’s is located, of course, at 560 Manhattan Avenue, at the corner of Driggs, right by the park. Wish I could be there.

Maryanne Amacher, R.I.P.

Unfortunately, I’m seeing unconfirmed reports that Maryanne Amacher, one of America’s most important sound artists, has died today. Though we never met (she taught at Bard, though well after I graduated), one of my favorite concert experiences of all time has to be seeing Amacher “live” in Chicago (she generally declined to “perform,” preferring sound installation work, but did actually perform in Chicago at 6ODUM when it was a functioning venue, as part of the LAMPO series). Her few releases, for John Zorn’s Tzadik label, are absolute masterpieces of pure sound and volume.

Tony Bailey, R.I.P.

(Picture of Phantom Family Halo, with Tony Bailey on the far right, from Metromix.)

This morning, right after waking up, I read the news on Louisville Hardcore that Tony Bailey passed last night. While we weren’t close, I’ve known Tony since, shit, I can’t remember, probably since I was 15 or 16 years old, through Louisville’s punk rock scene. Throughout the time that I’ve known him (almost twenty years, as I turn 34 this Monday), I can’t think of anyone who has been as consistently kind, funny, and sweet as Tony. His smile was one of the coolest things on the planet, and I can’t remember a time over those nearly twenty years when he didn’t give me a big hug, or a fist pound, no matter where or when or in what situation we might have seen each other.

I met, and knew, Tony first and foremost through music, and even at the young age of 14, he was one of the most talented drummers I’ve ever had the privilege to witness live. As a member of Crain, Parlour, Aerial M, Verktum, Dead Child, Rude Weirdo, the Phantom Family Halo, and most recently as of two weeks ago, Black Juju, his Alice Cooper tribute band (as well as many other incredible bands you may have never heard of), Tony always inspired me with his raw power, incredible precision, and most importantly, his ultra-fantastic feel for how powerful rock drums should sound.

During the years that I lived in places other than Louisville, I was lucky enough to get to promote a few shows for bands which Tony was touring with, or occasionally see him on tours when I wasn’t booking, or if he was just visiting a city other than Louisville to see someone else play. When I returned here two years ago, I didn’t run into Tony as much I would’ve liked, perhaps due to the Louisville music scene’s fragmented nature in this post-hardcore, post-all-ages, internet-music era, I don’t know. What I do know is that, in twenty years of knowing Tony, I probably didn’t tell him enough how much he and his music was an inspiration to me, and how our friendship — however limited — was important to me.

UPDATE, 12:15 AM, 10/4/2009: From Skull Alley’s web site:

A memorial gathering for Anthony J. Bailey will be held this Sunday, October 4th from 6pm to 10pm at Skull Alley, 1017 E. Broadway, Louisville, KY

There will be an opportunity to share your stories and memories, aloud or on paper. If you cannot attend and would like something read, please Email it to fncyatb at gmail dot com All are encouraged to bring finger/appetizer type foods. No alcohol/beer will be served and none may be brought in. Beverages will be provided by Skull Alley.

Your favorite pictures of Tony are wanted and needed for a slide show, send them to fncyatb at gmail dot com

Hugh Hopper, R.I.P.

(Image of Hugh Hopper taken from Wikipedia.)

I’m seeing news on the internet — though not confirmed by any news organizations yet — that former Soft Machine bassist Hugh Hopper has died. His Wikipedia entry, which mentions his year-long struggle with leukemia, gives the date as “June 2009.” No additional information is available on his official website.

Hopper’s 1973 album 1984 has long been a favorite of mine. His first solo album after leaving the Soft Machine, 1984 combines Hopper’s excellent jazz playing with some experimental processes, especially tape loops, to great effect. It’s fitting that this album, based on the futuristic novel by George Orwell, still sounds ahead of its time.

(1984 cover image from http://www.progarchives.com.)

Download 1984 here.

Randy Bewley, R.I.P.

(Photo of Randy Bewley by Michael Lachowski, from Athens Music Junkie.)

We received some sad news yesterday, that Pylon guitarist Randy Bewley had passed away:

This hurts so much to write. It has been a very hard day for us all in Athens. We have lost one of our dearest friends. A critical part of our community has been taken from us and he will be missed sorely.

Randy Bewley, known to the world as the guitarist in Pylon, passed away on Wednesday, February 25, 2009 shortly before 5 in the afternoon. He suffered a heart attack while driving on Barber street in Athens on Monday. His van proceeded to drift off the road and tip over. No other people or vehicles were involved. Rescue workers did CPR at the scene and he was taken quickly to the hospital where he was placed in ICU. His family and bandmates were there by his side.

And here’s a full piece from the Atlanta Journal-Constitution: http://www.accessatlanta.com/entertainment/content/entertainment/stories/2009/02/25/randy_bewley_pylon.html?cxntlid=thbz_hm.

We’re so very bummed about this. In November of 1989, we saw Pylon open for R.E.M. at Rupp Arena in Lexington, and had our minds blown. We already knew about Pylon due to their ties to R.E.M., but seeing them live was another thing entirely. Earlier that day, we met them at an in-store signing they did at ear X-tacy in Louisville, and they were the nicest, sweetest folks. Bewley’s brittle yet melodic guitar playing clearly was a pretty big influence on Athens music, and it totally sucks that we didn’t get to see Pylon during their most recent bit of activity.

Also, if you don’t have it, you should pick up DFA Records’ swell reissue of Pylon’s first album Gyrate, available here: http://dfa.insound.com/store/store2.py (scroll down to the last release).

Max Neuhaus, R.I.P.

(Max Neuhaus, from the Houston Chronicle.)

The Houston Chronicle is reporting that Max Neuhaus died yesterday at the age of 69:

Max Neuhaus, a percussionist with Houston ties who pioneered a field of contemporary art known as sound installation, died Tuesday of cancer at his home in Marina di Maratea, Italy. He was 69.

Josef Helfenstein, director of the Menil Collection, described Neuhaus as a sculptor who worked with nonmusical sound instead of traditional materials such as clay or steel. Neuhaus’ second permanent U.S. museum piece, Sound Figure, was installed at the Menil in May.

“He is really part of that generation who changed art in the 1960s,” Helfenstein said. “What he did is very radical, actually. … He managed to define space with sound.”

Born in Beaumont in 1939, Neuhaus began performing as a percussionist when he was 14. He graduated from Lamar High School in 1957 and trained at the Manhattan School of Music. During the 1960s, he performed solo recitals of contemporary music by composers such as John Cage and Karlheinz Stockhausen at a time when it was rare for a percussionist to be a soloist.

“It’s a little more common now, but there were only three of us in the world at that time, and I did my first recital in 1964 and became well-known while I was still in my 20s,” Neuhaus told the Houston Chronicle in May. “But at a certain point, I started having these other ideas. I tried to do both at the same time, but … the better musician I was, the more people were convinced that what I was doing (with experiments in sound installation) was music, so to speak. So in a way, I had to commit career suicide as a musician.”

Neuhaus said he didn’t have the courage to walk away from music until after Columbia Masterworks contacted him about recording his repertoire, preserving what he thought was his best work. That 1968 solo album is considered an early example of live electronic music.

“I made the record and went out the back,” he said. “They never forgave me, of course — along with a lot of other people.”

Having achieved early fame as a performer, Neuhaus turned to an anonymous form of expression, embedding sound into environments as unlikely as New York’s Times Square or a Brooklyn, N.Y., subway station. He was secretive about his techniques and left no speakers visible.

First installed in 1977, Times Square was disconnected in 1992 and reactivated in 2002. As was his custom, Neuhaus did not label the piece, wanting people to discover it for themselves.

Menil spokesman Vance Muse lived in New York from 1984 to 1994 and walked through Neuhaus’ sound piece on his way to work every day.

“Like most New Yorkers, I thought for a long time it was the beautiful sound of the subway groaning and moaning,” Muse said. “Then an artist friend told me what it was, and it became a wonderful place to meet on the way to dinner or the theater — standing in that Times Square traffic island.”

Helfenstein described a similar experience while visiting Neuhaus in Marina di Maratea, where the artist moved in 2006.

“He used his house and garden always as a laboratory for his work,” Helfenstein said. “Once, he didn’t tell me anything. I just walked around the garden, and I walked into a sound. … And I stepped one foot to the right, and the sound was gone. It was like an invisible cube but formed by sound.”

Neuhaus’ friendship with Menil founder Dominique de Menil began in the early 1970s at a New York dinner party, which she interrupted by ordering 10 limousines to take her guests to Brooklyn to visit Walkthrough, the subway-station piece that was installed from 1973 to 1977.

“She was always very supportive,” Neuhaus said of de Menil, who died in 1997. “For a long time, it was very hard to find the wherewithal to keep going with these works, which you couldn’t sell, which there were no drawings for (until years later), and she was always there at the last minute.”

Neuhaus’ art-world recognition grew, however, and his sound pieces included permanent works for Dia: Beacon in New York; Landesmuseum Joanneum in Graz, Austria; Documenta 9 in Kassel, Germany; and the Castello di Rivoli, Museo d’Arte Contemporanea in Turin, Italy; as well as ephemeral installations for the Museum of Modern Art, New York in 1979 and the 1999 Venice Biennale.

In 1989 Neuhaus began producing what he called “circumscription drawings” of his sound works to address the problem of “finding a way to publish without destroying the work.”

Curated by Helfenstein, Max Neuhaus: Circumscription Drawings was on view May through August at the Menil to coincide with the unveiling of Sound Figure, which was permanently installed at the museum’s north entrance.

“It’s almost like going through a shower — purifying, in a way — before you enter (the museum),” Helfenstein said of walking through the installation.

Neuhaus has been represented by Lawrence Markey Gallery in San Antonio since 2002. He is survived by his wife, Sylvia Neuhaus; their daughter, Claudia; and his sister, Laura Hansen, of Sanibel, Fla.

Arrangements for a memorial service are pending

UPDATE, 8:00 PM: In more bad news, Pitchfork is reporting that Lux Interior of the Cramps has died. He was 60.

UPDATE, 8:20 PM: Download Max Neuhaus’s performance of Morton Feldman’s composition “The King of Denmark” here.

Ron Asheton, R.I.P.

(Ron Asheton performing with the Stooges, from http://www.mlive.com.)

The Ann Arbor News is reporting that Ron Asheton, guitarist of the Stooges, was found dead in his home this morning. Here’s the full story:

Famed rock-and-roll guitarist and longtime Ann Arbor resident Ronald “Ron” Asheton was found dead in his home on the city’s west side this morning, police said.

Asheton, 60, was an original member of The Stooges, a garage-rock band headlined by Iggy Pop and formed in Ann Arbor in 1967.

His personal assistant contacted police late Monday night after being unable to reach Asheton for days, Detective Bill Stanford said.Officers went to the home on Highlake Avenue at around midnight and discovered Asheton’s body on a living-room couch. He appeared to have been dead for at least several days, Stanford said.

Detective Sgt. Jim Stephenson said the cause of death is undetermined but investigators do not suspect foul play. Autopsy and toxicology results are pending.

Asheton was born in Washington, D.C. His brother, Scott, who lives in Florida, is the band’s drummer.

In 2007, The Stooges reunited and released “The Weirdness,” their first album in three decades.

Asked how it felt to be back with The Stooges, Asheton told The News in an interview that year that it was “great to be back on the road.”

The Stooges were part of a 1960s music scene in Ann Arbor that included such bands as the MC5, Bob Seger, Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen, and The Rationals.

We’ll keep updating when we know more. We also found an old issue of Black to Comm with a great Asheton interview, so if we’ll get the chance we’ll post it.

Freddie Hubbard, R.I.P.

(Photo of Freddie Hubbard by John McKenzie from www.jazzprofessional.com)

Sad to say that another jazz great has passed. Trumpeter Freddie Hubbard died today at the age of 70 (from the Associated Press):

Freddie Hubbard, the Grammy-winning jazz musician whose style influenced a generation of trumpet players and who collaborated with such greats as Ornette Coleman, John Coltrane and Sonny Rollins, died Monday, a month after suffering a heart attack. He was 70.

Hubbard died at Sherman Oaks Hospital, said his manager, fellow trumpeter David Weiss of the New Jazz Composers Octet. He had been hospitalized since suffering the heart attack a day before Thanksgiving.

A towering figure in jazz circles, Hubbard played on hundreds of recordings in a career dating to 1958, the year he arrived in New York from his hometown Indianapolis, where he had studied at the Arthur Jordan Conservatory of Music and with the Indianapolis Symphony.

Soon he had hooked up with such jazz legends as Thelonious Monk, Miles Davis, Cannonball Adderley and Coltrane.

“I met Trane at a jam session at Count Basie’s in Harlem in 1958,” he told the jazz magazine Down Beat in 1995. “He said, `Why don’t you come over and let’s try and practice a little bit together.’ I almost went crazy. I mean, here is a 20-year-old kid practicing with John Coltrane. He helped me out a lot, and we worked several jobs together.”

In his earliest recordings, which included “Open Sesame” and “Goin’ Up” for Blue Note in 1960, the influence of Davis and others on Hubbard is obvious, Weiss said. But within a couple years he would develop a style all his own, one that would influence generations of musicians, including Wynton Marsalis.

“He influenced all the trumpet players that came after him,” Marsalis told The Associated Press earlier this year. “Certainly I listened to him a lot. … We all listened to him. He has a big sound and a great sense of rhythm and time and really the hallmark of his playing is an exuberance. His playing is exuberant.”

Hubbard played on more than 300 recordings, including his own albums and those of scores of other artists. He won his Grammy in 1972 for best jazz performance by a group for the album “First Light.”

As a young musician, Hubbard became revered among his peers for a fiery, blazing style that allowed him to hit notes higher and faster than just about anyone else with a horn. As age and infirmity began to slow that style, he switched to a softer, melodic style and played a flugelhorn. His fellow musicians were still impressed.

In tribute we’re posting one of his more out-there titles, Sing Me a Song of Songmy, a collaboration from 1971 with the Turkish electronic composer Ilhan Mimaroglu. You can download the album here.

Mauricio Kagel, R.I.P.

(above photo of Mauricio Kagel from www.chamberoperamemphis.org)

Argentinian composer Mauricio Kagel died yesterday (from the Guardian’s obituary):

An artist’s originality depends less on ingenious invention than a strongly personal point of view. Mauricio Kagel, who has died aged 76, held a unique position in music of the last half century.

While widely celebrated elsewhere, in Britain he remained perhaps the least well known of the great post-second world war avant garde composers. Only Luigi Nono was comparably under-exposed; Karlheinz Stockhausen, Pierre Boulez, Luciano Berio, György Ligeti and Iannis Xenakis all, to some extent, reached a wider public.

Kagel’s originality reflects his status as an outsider. Born in Buenos Aires, he came from an Argentine-Jewish family of leftist political views. He did not study music at university or conservatory, but privately with several teachers – none for composition, incidentally – and he studied philosophy and literature at the University of Buenos Aires, where the poet and short-story-writer Jorge Luis Borges was one of his lecturers. Kagel became a repetiteur at the famous Teatro Colón in Buenos Aires, and music adviser at the university, as well as being editor of cinema and photography for the journal Nueva Visión.

Film remained a practical interest after Kagel moved to Cologne in 1957 on a West German government scholarship. He lived there for the rest of his life, with frequent trips abroad as a guest professor or artist-in-residence.

By the mid-1950s Cologne was one of the great centres of avant garde musical experiment, where Stockhausen was king, but Kagel came to succeed, or replace, him as a magnet for aspiring composers at the Hochschule, and instituted a new course in music theatre.

Although Kagel had no formal education in composition, he acquired a mastery of new vocal and instrumental techniques with surprising speed. Anagrama, a large-scale piece for solo singers, speaking chorus and instrumental ensemble, was written only one year after Kagel’s arrival in Cologne and remains one of the most striking and inventive pieces of its time; it may even have had an influence on Stockhausen’s Momente and Berio’s Laborintus II.

…There is hardly an aspect of contemporary culture that Kagel has not playfully pulled to bits and reassembled like a Heath-Robinson contraption: “early music” was desiccated in Musik für Renaissance-Instrumente (1966), opera and ballet turned inside-out in Staathstheater (1970), Country Music and Nostalgia affectionately travestied in Kantrimiusik (1975), colonialism (characteristically reversed as non-Europeans invading the Mediterranean) lampooned in Mare Nostrum (1975; revised in 1997), the circus celebrated in Variété (1977) and totalitarianism caricatured in Der Tribun (1979) – a harangue which is perhaps too much like the real thing. More recently, The Pieces of the Compass Rose (1988-94) reflect the paradoxes of “world music” with amiable nonchalance.

There have also been tributes-with-a-difference to other composers: the film Ludwig Van celebrated the bicentenary of Beethoven’s birth in 1970 with a burlesque representation of the kitsch cultural tourist industry in which, effectively, Beethoven became a mere consumer product. In Variationen ohne Fuge (1972), Brahms and Handel once more join battle, as they had, very differently, in Brahms’s Variations and Fugue on a Theme of Handel. Stravinsky is grist to Kagel’s mill in Fürst Igor (1982), and Debussy in Interview Avec D (1994), in both of which Kagel re-creates, in ghostly form, music of the past, bearing a relation to it much like Miss Havisham to her wedding day.

For the tercentenary of JS Bach’s birth in 1985, Kagel composed his Sankt-Bach Passion – a perfectly respectful re-enactment of Bach’s own life in the manner of one of Bach’s Gospel settings. Kagel characteristically quipped, “No one believes in God any more, but everyone believes in Bach,” a half-truth, as he would surely have admitted.

If you’re unfamiliar with his works, ubuweb has two important albums, Acustica and Der Schall, available for download here: http://www.ubu.com/sound/kagel.html. Some of his films are available here: http://www.ubu.com/film/kagel.html.

Listening to my vinyl copy of 1898 right now. If I get the chance to update this post with more downloads, I will.

R.I.P. Sean Finnegan of Void

Void

This just in from Dischord:

We are sad to announce that Sean Finnegan, the drummer from Void and an original member of the Dischord family, passed away on Wednesday January 30th of an apparent heart attack, he was 43.

Far, far too young.

UPDATE:

Live Void footage on YouTube, via Can’t Stop the Bleeding: