The Heat Death of the Universe
It took me a minute to get into this kind of music; there is some screaming; there is, when you first try to process it, some chaos. In retrospect, I feel that this is pretty much anything that you may encounter out there in the world that you have not experienced before. Converge was probably the first band that I heard and then thought, “this is unlistenable; how could anyone make any sense of this.” As a musician, I could hear the pure technical ability to maintain the speed, volume, and momentum of the songs, and it was certainly impressive. But, I couldn’t connect with it because I saw no entry point; it all felt like an indecipherable madness. I eventually found myself drawn to these sounds, and then making them myself, and also having to respond to people who assumed that I must be a devil worshipper, or that I had cracked. There are folks out there who cannot understand that it is possible to love heavy, screamy music and also Chopin, Jim Croce, and Aretha Franklin; we can be everything we want at the same time. I think you will find that a lot of folks who are more on the either/or axis of things, are the ones who struggle with duality, nuance, and contradiction.
So, let’s jump forward to when I started to see the glorious construction within all of the confusion and sonic acrobatics. I had gone to see some of this stuff live and it was totally mind-blowing hearing what people could do with the band set up that I had been working with for years; it was a revelation to me to see the same ingredients being used to such a different effect. If you start this album and feel immediately like you want to shut off, I’m telling you that your patience will be rewarded. Much like when people heard Dylan go electric, or Hendrix purposefully feeding back, or Yma Sumac’s voice for the first time, it’s a different vocabulary, and you have to reorient yourself. If anytime you heard something you didn’t immediately understand, you just stamped it out, you’d have a safe, dull life; things are messy, there are a plethora of methods, feelings, and sounds that will all lead you to potential epiphanies, if you just get out of the way every once in a while. So now that I have given you a little pep talk: The Heat Death of the Universe.
It was January 2003 and I was out of school, and always with the fellows in my band at the time. I still felt outside of this whole scene, with jammed basement shows and shrieking amplifiers, pushing vacuum tubes to the limit, the punished throats of the singers striving to be heard on top of such battery, realizing that that struggle was not a struggle at all, but an enraptured celebration. I loved punk, but didn’t feel like I had the background or knowledge to belong. Off Minor really was my way into this music; I had grown up steeped in so-called jazz music, the work of great, Black American composers, put in a box by genre so it could be sold and co-opted by a white music business. You may know already that “Off Minor” is the name of a particularly esoteric Thelonious Monk tune, and so when I saw a band with that name, I thought, well now you have my attention. I began to see so many parallels between the small combos of the fifties and these little known enclaves around the country, putting out these wild, searching sounds. Off Minor’s music too was full of strange chords and exhilarating dynamic changes; the lyrics insightful and challenging, rife with a relatable confusion and dissonance. The world we were told about as kids and the world that we encounter once we are out on our own are two different places, and that difference can feel like a spectrum of betrayal. This music, for me, perfectly articulated that discordance, as well as speaking to and allowing for that cyclical journey of self-doubt and strength in the face of what can amount to a crippling uncertainty; here are lyrics from the song “This Is A Hostage Situation”:
The hand / on this gun / to my head / is my own
And these are my demands:
If you leave me / take me with you
I am nothing / without you.
People / who need people / are the wretchedest
In the world
Laced in between those painful sentiments, is some gorgeous instrumental interplay that you might not expect to be there; in this same way, understand that while these words may seem extreme, or hyperbolic, it’s a song, and what is a song but a physical manifestation of the values of those who have brought it to life.
Listening back to this album puts me in this amazing place, where I was driving with my friends all over the country; The Heat Death of the Universe was listened to before most shows, throughout most of the touring I did at this time. I’m not sure that I ever felt fully a part of this world, but in the process, I realized that that kind of comfort in belonging was something that everyone was seeking, and it made people insecure, but also vulnerable. In that state of mind I met some wonderful people who I feel like I can pick back up with at the drop of a hat. Every city we would visit, there were invariably folks that would turn up and we would just continue our relationships from this foundation of music, art, and togetherness; we prioritized these spaces that we made, in basements, community centers, parks, backyards, because the spaces became more than what they were. Together, we were able to transcend place and loneliness and that disconnection that so many are feeling; “who you are is not a function of where you are.” This idea of place and community resonates within the beginnings of bebop as well, when musicians and makers were experimenting with new ways of expression, and wanting to escape the trappings of being merely entertainers. A lot of stories put the zenith of this movement at Minton’s Playhouse in Harlem, where the players of the day would congregate after hours, when everywhere was closing up; they would jam together and play new ideas for one another, able to stretch out beyond that which was paying their bills at the nightclubs.
These kinds of spots are so instrumental to movements, and though they are a ‘space’, the important thing is that they provide actual space, or the room to move around, the room to experiment, to stretch out. We at Nova want to provide this for the community, to work together with everyone that needs encouragement and eyes and ears to bounce things off of. Doing this during a pandemic is no small thing, and we have been working hard to ensure that we can get this off the ground safely, because creativity cannot be a further casualty of these times; expression has to be prioritized, but with patience and empathy. We’ve slowed down, we’re wearing masks, but we want you to come down to the space; bring your ideas, your sounds, your projects. We’re going to get through this together, and on the other side, maybe be a little closer, with a new space that is already stretching out and ready to grow. We understand if you aren’t ready, so in the meantime, challenge yourself with new music, art from different voices and perspectives, stay tuned and we’ll be here when you are, saying “welcome back.”
Off Minor - The Heat Death of the Universe
Saturday October 10th 2020, 7pm
Just put it on at your house using a stereo or the internet or whatever you want.
***Incidentally, we are having a soft opening at the space this Saturday, with performances starting at 10am and going into the afternoon. Check out some music, dance, a reading, and try our new menu, enjoy a delicious coffee drink, beer, or something in between. The space is huge, with a brand new hvac system, plenty of room for distancing, and being there safely. Come on by 48 Emerald St in Keene (and wear a mask please)!