On Transgression

Hiya, kids! Today I'm going to talk at'cha about transgressive art.

Transgressive art can be a sticky subject because, well, subjectivity. What some find to be offensive and surreal could just be a Tuesday morning for someone else who leads a perfectly normal and productive life but just happens to have different values. That said, most people can probably agree on the definition at least: transgressive art is art in any medium that challenges social mores, whether to provoke thought, or simply provoke. "But Worlock," you say, "isn't that technically what 'art' as a general concept is supposed to mean?" Well, yes, but transgressive art takes that concept and runs like a goddamn maniac with it. It can be cruel, disturbing, disgusting, nightmarish, nihilistic, and utterly, hopelessly perverted. There can be deep meaning behind it, or none at all. It can be solemnly and pointedly making a statement (one example being Peter Sotos in his notorious sound-collage record, Buyer's Market, or maybe the lyrics of Swans and Angels of Light frontman Michael Gira) throwing standards and 'normality' out the window with manic glee (the films of John Waters, the lyrics of Frank Zappa, or Mike Diana's notoriously nefarious "Boiled Angel" comics) or, most effectively of all in my opinion, finding a middleground and swinging between the two extremes (such as the writings of Chuck Palahniuk or the lyrics of Marilyn Manson). The important thing is that it takes an outsider's point of view to some logical conclusion.

And that is where many people misunderstand (or especially pick up disdain for) transgressive art; in most cases, it doesn't think everyone is going to enjoy it. Best case scenario, it hopes that someone out there will understand where it is coming from. The idea, no matter what of those 'fighting styles' it adopts, is to present a viewpoint, belonging to its creator, of the outsider looking in (or in some cases, wandering around looking for something, no matter what it is.) Whether it's about the middle-of-the-bell-curve members of society, or about fellow fringe-minded folks, they are looking at them and reporting back with their own interpretation of it all - disgust, amusement, or even just morbid fascination.

"But Worlock," you say again, an incredulous tone to your voice. "Couldn't it easily be said that a great number of these so-called 'artists' are only pseudo-intellectuals and/or are just trying to make a quick buck off the rebellious set?" Well, pay extra close attention, because this part will be on the test: even being part of that culture myself, there is not a doubt in my mind that pseudo-intellectualism and cheap, gratuitous thrills are probably a dime a dozen within this field. However. However. It does not change the outcome. If the creator's heart is not in the work, then its value may be suspect, as with most mediums. However, misanthropy is an acquired trait, and the people who have it and are able to take some personal significance away from the art still gain something. Value can be salvaged even from shit. And not just in the case of transgressive art, but in a very general sense.

Not sure what my ultimate point is, really; I just felt like expounding to the wall about something I enjoy and am frustrated at seeing frequently blasted by people who dismiss anything that isn't life-affirming. Probably will talk more on this later. As you were, citizen.

Throbbing Gristle

Throbbing Gristle, how I love thee. Is it because you make good music? Not necessarily. Granted, some of it is just plain good music, but the reasons I have for loving and being inspired by this band are oftentimes misunderstood.

EXHIBIT A: "Hamburger Lady"
This song... Jesus Christ, this song scared the crap out of me, and it still does. This terrifying sound experiment stands as probably the scariest piece of media I have ever been exposed to. I still remember the first time I heard it - I was high, listening in total darkness, and I actually broke down crying because this song hit me so hard. It's based on a letter one of the band members got from a friend who was a hospital orderly or something;

"...by far the worst is the Hamburger Lady, and because of the shortage right now of 'qualified technicians', e.g. technicians who can work with her and keep their last meal down, Screwloose Lauritzen and I have been alternating nights with her, unrelievedly. If you put a 250-lb meatloaf in the oven and then burned it and then followed that by propping it up on a potty-chair to greet you at 11pm each night, you would have some description of these past two weeks. Which is to say the worst I seen since Viet napalms. When somebody tells you that there is a level of pain beyond which the human mind cannot retain consciousness, please tell them to write to me. In point of fact this lady has not slept more than 3-5 minutes at a stretch since she came to us - that was over two weeks ago and, thanks to medical advances, there is no end in sight; from the waist up everything is burned off, ears, nose, etc. - lower half is untouched and that, I guess, is what keeps her alive. I took one guy in to help me change tubes and he did alright, that is alright till he came out, then he spotted one of the burn nurses (pleasant smiling zombies) eating a can of chili-mac at the desk, and that did it: he flashed on the carpet. It's fucking insane is what it is."

Take a creepy, robotic reading of parts of the letter in cut-up fashion, mutilated by a vocoder and set against a hideous, roaring atmosphere that sounds like the auditory personification of pain, and you get a scary fucking song.



EXHIBIT B: Wreckers of Civilization
I don't like punk music. I've never liked punk music. I don't know why, but it never clicked with me, even though I like the idea of sonic anarchy. Throbbing Gristle basically holds the same ideals as punk, but the sound is more to my liking - computerized, experimental, glitchy. The fact that none of the members of the band had any kind of experience with music in any way, shape or form (aside from vocalist Genesis P-Orridge doing some avant-garde stuff in the past) and that their shows were almost entirely improvised intrigues me. For reasons such as these, their output is really kinda split down the middle - some of it is genuinely good, trippy, experimental proto-industrial. The other half of it is so profoundly god-awful that it's like some beautiful train wreck that people have gathered around because the charred remains have melted into the shape of the Virgin Mary - it's unbearable, and an extremely important development in the ideals of music and the artist-consumer relationship because of it. It's really something that must be heard to be believed.

EXHIBIT C: Influence
The band has had a massive influence despite its relative obscurity. TG has most notably been an influence on Skinny Puppy, who themselves would go on to pretty much invent 'industrial' as it is currently known (or rather, refine the sound that came from many differing sources). After breaking up, the band splintered into several, including Psychic TV, Chris & Cosey, and Coil. Coil was perhaps one of the most influential electronic/ambient bands out there, with some of the more notable followers including Aphex Twin and Nine Inch Nails, both of whom would go on to collaborate with Coil. Through that small web, an enormous trickle-down effect (or in this case, fuckin' waterfall) has come into play, with TG at the top of it all.

I could go on for quite a bit longer, but to cut out the faux-intellectualism for a minute, I'll state some basic opinion: I adore TG's output from their '77 debut up to '79, but after that they kinda went on a decline until the breakup. However, they've recently gotten back together, and their 2007 reunion album is one of, if not the strongest piece of production they've released thus far. Frankly, I can't wait for what comes next.