Pussy Galore – NME: Paw Boys (PRESS, UK)

From the slimy sewer of New York roared PUSSY GALORE, the band that congratulates Sonic Youth on choosing a ‘smoother path to Yuppiedom’. Following the release of their new LP ‘Dial M For Motherf___er’ DELE FADELE argues the case that this is one of the greatest soul bands of today.

Groovy Hate F___?, ‘Make Them Eat Shit Slowly’, ‘C___ Tease’, ‘Dial M For Motherf___er’, ‘Eat Me’, ‘Sugarshit Sharp’…A catalogue of obscenities run through Pussy Galore’s oeuvre like pus oozing out of fresh sores.

They’re New York City’s most mean and, lowdown dirty grunge rockers and everything they do has to be bigger, bolder and more gut-wrenching than all that’s gone before. Forget about linear progression – leave that to lesser gods like Live Skull, Lunachicks et al – these cartoon nihilists give new meaning to the term haphazard, positively dripping with sexual frenzy and asshole imagery.

“a lot of people really viewed foul language as the major ethos of Pussy Galore. People have been asking us about censorship and stuff, self-censorship, so we;ve just made a big joke out of the whole thing. It’s no big deal. We just bleeped out all the obscenities on ‘Understand Me’ for fun.”

The slightly antagonistic Jon Spencer, who along with Bob Bert, Neil Haggerty and Kurt Wolf forms the group’s core, is hollering down some crackling transatlantic line. It’s better this way: a head-to-head confrontation might’ve ended in blows or summat. Such is Jon’s preciousness about his group’s work that any unfavourable sentiments are taken to heart, contributing to his refusal to see himself as anything other than an adequate singing in a resolutely rock group. He attended an Ivy League college but isn’t averse to playing dumb on occasion.

Since forming in 1985 Pussy Galore have traced arcs of bitterness across the history of garage-rock. The medium is their message; guitars buzz and drone like a hive of fireflies turned bees and modernist cut-up techniques are applied to the results to create an awesomely unique sound-bath.

‘Dial M For Motherf___er’ is the new LP – their most accomplished outing yet, even eclipsing last year’s ‘Yu-Gung’ cover for sheer audacity, hard-assed swagger, and claustrophobic surrounds. You mind will go on vacation, leaving all excess baggage – ie. the body – behind as these chants and mantras weave their deadly ways into your unprotected deadly ways into your unprotected subconscious.

Still, there are more pressing problems. Last minute changes had to be made to deem ‘Motherf___er’ suitable for WH Smith purchase. The spectre of censorship looms over Jon’s head, but he couldn’t care less (“The PMRC in America can’t be bothered with us ‘cos we don’t sell enough records”),

All of which might change soon should more astute radio programmers and college-radio networks take notice.

“I don’t spend too much time thinking about reaching wider audiences. We just plough straight ahead. People at our US company have been talking about a ‘breakthrough’, but that kind of talk turns my stomach. It’s just calculated. I don’t have time for that. We can do well on our own.”

Comparisons to Kraftwerk – although wildly off the mark – are offensive to Jon. I was thinking about the glacial emotions, less-then-zero freeze-out riffs, the accumulated energy of approximating electronics with traditional instrumentation. But he’s having none of it.

“When we started we weren’t really making things emotionally cold, but impenetrable, there’s some range of emotion on the album. It might be hard to get into but there’s something going on in there.

“There’s insecurity, doubt, plain good-natured songs…other songs try to convey a feeling of malice. I don’t think it’s a strict exercise in sound composition.”

Do you guys hide behind waves of noise or something?

“No, it’s not thrown up as a blind or to throw people off. We just do what we wanna do. I hate all those theories about noise and dissonance. We’re not fake.”

At which point I wondered aloud if they felt any kinship with streetwise rap artists? The attitude, pent-up frustration, blind antagonism and hectoring manner does seem similar.

Also, how do they exist in rap’s capital city and be ignorant of the sounds of the jams being kicked over by disaffected youths with no hope, no ambition, a legacy of oppression and general ignorance. The best discos would programme Pussy Galore’s ‘Understand Me’ back-to-back with Big Daddy Kane’s vicious ‘Rap Summary’ and depending on one’s chemical imbalances no one would know the difference. This hypothesis falls on stony ground.

“I would love to feel a kinship but I’d be a fool to think that way because I’m white. I’m very, very white. I’m a big fan of rap but it’s a world away from me, my environment, my values. There’s some nihilism in what we do but we don’t drown in it.”

The subject is hastily changed before I can mention Stereo MC’s, Tim Westwood, The Beastie Boys or even The Triffids – all of whom have experimented with cross-fertilisation and that dreaded term ‘crossover’. In another ideal utopian world America’s black stations would play Pussy Galore instead of George Michael. They’ve got soul, even if it isn’t in the accepted ‘rivers of tearful emotion’ sense.

Whatever happened to Julia Cafritz, their major asset, whose hard stance and outspoken personality are sorely missing from ‘Dial M For Motherf___er’?

“I just kicked her out. We just weren’t getting along at all. When we got back from the last European tour I’d just had enough. We weren’t friends anymore. She was being particularly nasty, saying things about me and my girlfriend. I just couldn’t put up with it anymore…”

Insurmountable interest surrounds Pussy Galore. Bootleggers are having a field day with concert tapes.

Psychopaths send them love-letters. And obscure tapes of their cover version of the entire Rolling Stones ‘Exile On Main Street’ LP fetches unreasonably high prices on the black market. (“An attention-getting ploy sez Jon”. “It worked. The press were very interested”).

One of the guitarists, Neil Haggerty, reputedly the most debauched group member, recently signed a contract to endorse guitar strings for some company who’ll in turn sponsor him. Seriously ironic, considering his flailing style.

“He signed a deal with this company from Virginia, that makes guitars near his hometown. Shane Guitars. This guy just saw the piece Spin did on us and he contacted Neil’s father. I don’t think he’s ever heard us. They made Neil sign a contract and ads will run in such wild places as Guitar World Neil Haggerty promotes Shane Guitars! It’s kinda funny to say the least”

Their next single will reach us via Sub-Pop records, that burgeoning hobbled of semi-talent out of Seattle. It’s a double A-sider shared with lurking behemoth Tad featuring cover versions of Black Flag’s ‘Damaged’. Jon is tasteful enough not to rate the Sub-Pop roster that highly and he’s pretty ambivalent about the whole thing. But that’s just another milestone around our necks, more grist to our elbows, another affliction…

On reason for the pre-eminence of cover-versions in Pussy Galore’s work is their awkward relationship with history: echoes of timeless garage records flit through ‘Dial M For Motherf___er’. Deconstruction is the key, fold-ins, cut-ups all conjoin to create a mish-mash effect where everything is placed in inverted commas.

In my dream, New York City has been completely taken over by anarchists and punks, artists and formerly depressed opportunists. All those who used to ‘slum it’ and pretend to be poor are now rotting away at the bottom of the Hudson river, Ghettoblasters pump out an endless diet of rap interspersed with Pussy Galore, Band Of Susans, Sonic Youth. Record companies have ceased to exist…the dream evaporates and nightmare reality takes its place.

Bob Bert, an ex-member of Sonic Youth who still rates them, is the percussive powerhouse behind Pussy Galore. His more relaxed manner is in jarring contrast to Jon’s hyper-sensitivity. He’s also more forthcoming about the major changes that have taken place.

“We just kinda grew up.” he claims wistfully, “Jon’s the one who’s into grunge, I always wanted our records to sound clean” (He’s against bootlegs, this budding Springsteen.)

“A few years ago there used to be places like Dancetaria where bands could play, now there’s only The Pyramid, CBGBs and The New Ritz. But the scene isn’t totally dead. I moved out of the city ‘cos it’s nicer and cheaper. Five or six years ago it was really scary to walk along avenue A, now it’s really safe. Gentrification has taken care of that. We’re not close-minded, our music reflects life as it’s lived in the city amongst other, more personal details.

“I’m older than the rest of the band, so I’ve seen the whole thing, I’m a bit jaded. We’re just a simple rock ‘n’ roll band. We’re not political, at all, just basically weird entertainment.

“Things have changed: Swans are really mellow these days, Sonic Youth have taken the smoother path to yuppiedom…I’m happy for them.”

Is what you do instinctive or really well thought-out, almost intellectualised?

“It’s half-and-half. Most of our stuff is very well rehearsed and re-arranged. We worked on ‘Yu Gung’ for three months straight. On the other hand we do a lot of spontaneous stuff and improvisation.

“There’s really not any heavy thing to what we do. Most of it deals with having fights with your girlfriend or driving in the van…hanging our at the 7 – 11. It’s not like Sonic Youth cutting-up paperback novels or anything, just everyday stuff. The end effect is extraordinary.

However, There’s no room for unadulterated gibberish or expert solutions or unanswerable questions with Pussy Galore. They just know what time it is. Time to melt.”