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5 TRACKS: NICK MARTINELLI

By Tony Price

During an interview on the Questlove Supreme Podcast, Jimmy Jam called Nick Martinelli “the biggest biter ever”. While there is no denying the clear influence of Jam and Lewis on Martinelli’s sound in the mid 80’s, his spacious, gleaming production style was groundbreaking, and influential in its own right. His production and remix work between ’84-’88 for groups like Loose Ends, B.B. & Q. Band, 52nd Street, Change, and Five Star can be read as a masterclass in cultivating moodiness and sophistication on the dance floor. This is deeply sensual, pristine music. laser-guided, precise and crystalline, he made judicious use of expensive sounding reverbs to emphasize the empty space that hangs between the ricocheting clatter of 808 hits, glacial pads and sparkling bell tones. 

LOOSE ENDS - “CHOOSE ME (DUB MIX)”

Year: 1984

Label: Virgin Records

Writers: McIntosh, Eugene, Nichol

Producer: Nick Martinelli

52ND STREET - “YOU’RE MY LAST CHANCE (REPRIEVED DUB)”

Year: 1986

Label: Ten Records

Writer: Tony Henry

Producer: Nick Martinelli

Remix: Boyd Jarvis & Timmy Regisford

B.B.& Q. - “GENIE” (12” DANCE MIX)

Year: 1985

Label: Cooltempo Records/Elektra Records

Writer & Producer: Kae Williams Jr.

Remix: Nick Martinelli

Cooltempo Records/Elektra Records, 1985

CHANGE - “MUTUAL ATTRACTION (VOCAL/LONG REMIX VERSION)”

Year: 1985

Label: Cooltempo/Chrysalis

Writer: Timmy Allen

Producer: Jacques Fred Petrus

Remix: Nick Martinelli

P.P. ARNOLD - “A LITTLE PAIN (INSTRUMENTAL)”

Year: 1985

Label: 10 Records

Writer: China Burton

Producer: Dexter Wansel

Remix: Nick Martinelli

INTERVIEW: TOM CARRUTHERS

By: Tony Price

Tom Carruthers is a producer from Cheshire, England. His latest LP on L.I.E.S. Records is an instant classic. Drawing inspiration from the early 90’s bleep techno, the grimiest of NYC house and Motor City machine funk, “Non Stop Rhythms” is an elemental masterpiece that is a masterclass in otherworldly, minimalist production. I recently spoke with him about his new album, his recording process, the birth of his label Non Stop Rhythm, and using social media to promote music.

TP: Congratulations on that L.I.E.S. record. I listened to it at the gym yesterday. It’s incredible. I love it so much. 

TC: Nice one, I appreciate it. Been in the pipeline for a while so I’m glad it’s finally out now. I think my copies arrive tomorrow. 

TP: The artwork looks great, too. 

TC: Yeah, it’s cool, innit. 

TP: So is that a compilation of a bunch of stuff that you had either put out or worked on before?

TC: I think it’s a few tracks I already released on the label, and my label’s quite small so he (Ron Morelli) wasn’t too fussed about it, about the fact that they’re already released, but a lot of it is unreleased material, I’d say half of it is unreleased. 

Tom Carruthers - “Cyclone” from the Non Stop Rhythms LP out now on L.I.E.S. Records

TP: So, you have Non Stop Rhythm, that’s your main label, right? 

TC: Yep. I did have a label in 2018 called L&T Recordings, but that’s pretty much died off now. Non Stop Rhythm is my main focus. House music. 

TP: I feel like I’ve seen you post a bunch of stuff with different graphics, maybe different label names. Did you have another one as well, or was it always just L&T and that turned into Non Stop Rhythm?

TC: I was doing L&T but I was more into European techno, like R&S Records, that was a big inspiration for that label. Over the past couple years, I’ve gotten a lot more into New York house music, Chicago house. I thought I’d start a new label, Non Stop Rhythm, to take you from the more house-y kind of sounds but with tempo stuff.

TP: When did you start that label? 

TC: It was around February 2020, just prior to Covid and all the rubbish. 

TP: You’ve put out a lot of music since then, haven’t you? 

TC: Yeah, super prolific, especially through 2020. I wasn’t really working at the time, I was just focusing on my music and living off the income of my record labels. 

TP: So during the pandemic you’d just be making tracks all day and then just put them out as soon as possible? Was that your goal?

TC: Yeah, just to get them out there. I wanted to be super busy. I think in one year we put out 50 releases, not all my own on the label, but from guys all over Europe, all over the world to be fair, but a pretty prolific 50 in a year. 

TP: That’s wild, very cool. Did you do one 12” as well, physical? Or did you do more than that? 

TC: Trying to think, I did put one out, I made up a little label called Crash Records for it for a massive house single. Pressed up a few of them and then I put out two 12” on Non Stop Rhythm. One was a reissue by Freddy Bastone, not sure if you’ve heard of him, from New York, “Corporation of One”.

TP: Yeah, that track is crazy. I was surprised when I saw that you reissued it. I was just looking at Discogs…how many vinyl records did you press for these two releases? 

TC: Both of them, just 300. Kept it small, just to test the waters.

TP: Do you have vinyl distribution? Do you press them and sell them out of your house? 

TC: What I’ve done is I have a digital distribution contract, with a company called Label Way. I signed that in late 2019 for L&T Recordings, and Non Stop Rhythm falls under that contract as well. I got a physical distribution contract with a company called Above Board Distribution. 

TP: They’re London based, right? I feel like I’ve heard of them before. 

TC: Yeah they’re based down in London. Doing loads of old school stuff so they’re on the same wavelength. 

TP: That’s great. So do they do pressing and distribution? Do you get it pressed on your own and then ship it to them? 

TC: No, just distribution. I’m funding all the records myself. Probably best to do that, though. 

TP: Do you have plans to do more vinyl? 

TC: Yeah, I’ve actually got a reissue coming out. I’ve paid the guy the advance and everything, I just need to put the order in. It’s called Exocet, “Lethal Weapon”. It’s a three-track single from 1989. Bleep techno. 

TP: So it’s a U.K. thing? 

TC: Yeah, it’s off a label called Catt Records, originally based down in London. 

TP: Amazing. When you reach out to these older artists and talk about reissuing their stuff, what’s the response usually like? Do you find that a lot of these producers are still involved in music, or have they moved on from that? Are they happy to hear from you? 

TC: To be fair, I’m into the more obscure stuff, so a lot of the guys are surprised that anyone is still interested in the music, to be honest. A lot of them are surprised and they’re fully on board. I don’t come across like a businessman. I’m just passionate about music so I think it comes off.

TP: How did you end up getting in touch with Ron from L.I.E.S.?

TC: Ron originally reached out to me, saying congrats on the label, and that he likes what I’m doing with Non Stop Rhythm. Eventually we got talking about the music and he said he’d like to put some stuff out. I was a little bit hesitant at first because that’s why I started my own label, I want to own my own stuff, but he seems legit and we got a good deal together, so I thought why not. Seems a cool guy. 

TP: Definitely. I feel that more than pretty much anyone, Ron has been the most important figure in maintaining, preserving and promoting the raw aesthetics and sonic roots of dance music and electronic music in the last decade. Do you ever DJ live or are you a strictly producer and label guy? 

TC: I did one mix for my mate Mario Liberti’s label Deep In Dis, I think it was 2020 I did that. Mostly strictly producing, it’s more my thing. 

TP: So when you’re producing, do you usually think more so about how your music is going to hit on a dance floor or are you more concerned with how it sounds through headphones? Do you put one above the other when you’re producing and mixing? 

TC: To be fair, I just go for what I personally like, and it seems to be catching on now, it’s selling, so people are obviously on the same wavelength as me. I mainly base it towards the dancefloor though. 

Tom Cruv - “Work The Box 21 (Original Mix)” out now on Trax Records

TP: What about listening? I personally like to buy vinyl, I’ve always bought vinyl, but I definitely listen to music mostly on my headphones. I stream a lot of music. It is what it is. When it comes to you as a music fan, not so much as a producer, do you find that you listen to vinyl, or do you prefer the convenience of streaming music? 

TC: Yeah, I listen to a lot of vinyl. I collect a lot of vinyl. Nu Groove Records, I collect them religiously. 

TP: What’s record buying like where you live, and in Liverpool? Are there good record stores? 

TC: There’s a few stores, but mostly I buy off Discogs. I’m not against buying records online. I’ll get what I want. I don’t want to settle for something I’m not really interested in. My collection, I’m 100% interested in. 

TP: What drives your interest in reissuing music? Is it mostly to get it out there, feeling like it needs a second life? What is your thought process like when you find a record that you want to reissue? 

TC: Partially that, partially to give it a new lease on life, but also, to be on my label. It’s cool to say I put out good music. If I reckon it’s good, they’ll wanna put it out. 

TP: Did you do a track with Trax Records?

TC: Yeah, I put out a single on Trax under the name Tom Cruv back in April of this year. 

TP: How did that come about? 

TC: They've got Marcus Mixx, I don’t think he works with them anymore, for A&R, but I just sent him a few demos and he said he reckons they’d fit really well on Trax Records. Not even demos per se, just a couple new tracks that I’d made, check ‘em out, see what you think. He was like yeah, they’re really cool. I made them on one of those old 4 track tape recorders so they’ve got a lot of tape hiss. 

TP: I noticed that, I love that aspect of your music. I wanna ask you some more questions about production stuff. What was your setup like during the pandemic? Obviously, everyone was locked at home. Did you have a bedroom setup? That’s the way I imagine Larry Heard making his early stuff. 

Tom Carruthers - “North West” out now on Non Stop Rhythm

TC: Pretty much set up in my bedroom, yeah. I’ve got an old analog mixing desk, a couple of drum machines, a lot of it’s sample-based, so I’ll just load samples, I’ve got a massive sample library, old school, obscure sounds. I’ll just load them into the keyboard and play my riffs with them like that. I’ll chop a lot of sounds from old records, say there’s a nice bassline, I’ll chop the sound, load it into my keyboard and then play my own riffs with it. 

TP: What kind of keyboard are you talking about when you say sampling keyboard? 

TC: Casio, stuff like that. Nothing major. But they do the job. They’re effective.

TP: Sounds incredible. That’s the thing, these days, people are so obsessed with gear, but if you look at Derrick May, you look at Larry Heard, any of these guys in the early days of house music or techno, they’re just doing what they can with what they have. The sound of tape hiss, when you’re using samplers from the 80s that have a really low bitrate, there’s a real nasty hiss on top. 

TC: Adds character!

TP: It’s amazing, that’s what’s missing. It feels like you are engaging with a living thing when you hear those artifacts. Do you still predominantly work at your home studio or do you have a place that you like to go to do work? 

TC: I’m still running the same setup, stick with what you know.

TP: How many channels is your mixer? 

TC: It’s an old 32 channel. I got it passed down to me off one of my dad’s mates when I was first starting to get into it. I think it’s an old Allen and Heath mixer. 

TP: Did you grow up playing music or did you start making electronic music as your first foray into music? 

TC: I’m not classically trained or anything. What it was, I was probably around 15 when I started getting into house music. It was all over the radio and it kind of blew up over here on the charts. But then I started to veer more into the underground stuff, did a little bit of digging, and that’s where I found the early Chicago stuff, New York stuff, and then I just fell in love with that. 

TP: Do you prefer to make music during the day or at nighttime?

TC: Probably nighttime, early hours in the morning. That’s when a lot of the magic seems to happen. 

TP: When you sit down to make a track, is it different every time? I personally like to start with drum programming, whether it’s Ableton or if it’s with a drum machine. Do you start off with drums or is it different every time for you? 

TC: I’d say the majority of the time, it would just be a bassline and then I’ll go program the drums and then go from there. A lot of my tracks are just a bassline and drum machine, some effects added. That’s what I’m into, the percussion side of things. Drum programming, complex drum programming. Not just one bar looped like a lot of the modern stuff. Snares. 

TP: A lot of your production does remind me of the Mayday stuff. I think Derrick May’s drum programming is very kinetic. His hi-hats are always so alive, they jump around and I can definitely hear that in your music. It sounds like you do have an element of hardware magic in your process, where you like to have a hands-on approach. Would that be true? Do you like to be able to touch knobs while you’re making music, or is it not so important to you? 

TC: It’s more of a hands-on kind of thing, I like to have a hands-on approach to it, yeah. 

TP: What do you think of modern house music? I’m talking more about the contemporary underground scene rather than the stuff that’s huge. 

TC: There is a lot of cool stuff out there. A lot of young people, like myself, I’m only 22. But a lot of people are starting to get into the bleep-y, obscure kind of stuff. I reckon it’s definitely making a resurgence. 

TP: That’s a good thing. What is it about the older stuff on labels like like Transmat or Nu Groove that is still so potent to you? 

TC: I’ve never been able to put my finger on it, and I don’t think many people can, it’s just got the edgy, obscure, proper underground kind of vibe. Just a dark kind of vibe. 

TP: I think it comes down to what you were saying, people making music and releasing it as it comes. They get to the desk, behind the drum machines and then two hours later they have something, they’re editing it down, and then it’s being pressed on vinyl. 

TC: That’s the same with me. I make most of my tracks in one sitting. I don’t like coming back to it a track, because by the time I’ve come back to it I have a completely new idea. So I’m one of them, I’ve got to get it done there and then, so I’ll stay up for hours and just try to do it in one sitting. 

Tom Carruthers - “Technology Grooves (Original Mix)” out now on L&T Recordings

TP: When you have all of your stuff going, do you improvise and then edit at the end to make an arrangement? Or do you go into it with arrangement in your head as you’re making it? 

TC: Mostly I’ve got the layout in my head, how I’d want to map it out. I’d say I spend the majority of the time actually creating the sounds, morphing the sounds. The mix down is like a five-minute process for me. 

TP: Considering how fast you make and release music, do you find yourself ever looking back at your catalogue and thinking, “oh my god, I forgot I made that track!” Does it still feel fresh to you like you’re hearing some of it for the first time?  

TC: Yeah, some tracks, I’ve completely forgotten about. I don’t really enjoy listening to my own music because I know what’s coming.

TP: I feel the same way. Looking to the future, do you have any plans to perform live? If you were to do something live, would it be more of a DJ-based set? 

TC: I’d be more into DJing, because realistically, that’s where the majority of the money is in the dance music industry. So if I ever wanted to make a proper living from it, I would probably veer into DJing at some point. 

TP: So what’s coming up for you? Are you just going to keep releasing tracks as you make them or are you going to do EPs or albums? What’s your plan with the label and with your own music after this L.I.E.S. record? 

TC: The plan is probably going to start working towards albums, say in around a year’s time, maybe a best of. Like, “the best of so far” on Non Stop Rhythm. I’m doing another release more L.I.E.S., more techno-oriented. Got a nice reissue from a guy called Ron Wells under the pseudonym Jack Smooth coming out on Non Stop Rhythm too. 

TP: Did you send that to me? You sent me some reissue you were working on.

TC: I think I might have, yeah, Jack Smooth, “Break The Sound Barrier”, and the track two is “Buzz Off Music”. Really cool stuff from 1991. 

TP: Is that going to be a digital release or is it a 12”?

TC: Just a digital release, because unfortunately, he lost the master tapes a long time ago.

TP: When you’re promoting stuff, your own music and your label, do you focus mainly on Instagram? What are your tactics?

TC: Mostly IG, Instagram, yeah. Send some stuff out emails to friends, I do it organic. I don’t pay for promotion. 

TP: Do you get frustrated with Instagram or do you feel like it does what you need it to do? 

TC: I like the Instagram format, to be honest. I reckon it’s cool, posting snippets. I noticed it’s slowly starting to grow but it’s organic, so it’s not going to be overnight. 

TP: Exactly. I think Instagram’s pretty good for a label like yours. You have a strong, consistent aesthetic. Your 12” artwork is like a classic house label. Every time you see it with a little snippet, you know what to expect. You’re gonna hear a track, it’s gonna be raw, it’s gonna be good, so I think it works. 

Anyway, that’s pretty much it! I just want to say I love everything that I’ve heard from you and it’s very exciting to discover a new artist, especially someone that’s just doing it for the right reasons. So, nice to meet you and thank you for doing this.

TC: Best of luck to you!


”Non Stop Rhythm” 2xLP is out now on L.I.E.S. Records

Follow Tom Carruthers on Instagram

Follow Non Stop Rhythm on Bandcamp

INTERVIEW: CALVIN LECOMPTE

By: Tony Price

I recently spoke with Calvin LeCompte about his new album “Laughed At An Attachment”. We talked about his recording process, the sonic semiotics of tape hiss, the hilarity of psychedelic aesthetics and more.

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TP: I really love your show on NTS Radio. I think we share an infatuation with music that feels like it has fallen through the cracks of time, sounding sort of “half produced” or “demo-like”. What is it about that set of sonic qualities that appeals to you?

CL: Absolutely, yeah. I would assume that an entry point to talk about something like this would be intimacy. Perhaps it’s appealing because it feels intimate? I’m not saying that a demo is always better, but it has an energy to it that is often times a little more exciting. Even tape hiss itself adds a level of excitement, It’s more intimate, it’s looser, it feels more exciting. 

TP: That excited energy bleeds through the crackle of your new album Laughed At An Attachment. How did you make this album? Do you have  a home recording setup or do you have a work space that you go to?

CL: Me and my girlfriend live in a two bedroom in Chinatown. One room is a bedroom and the other is a studio. As far as for how it was recorded, I have, for lack of a better way to put it, fetishized that type of tape sound and the home recording tradition, so to speak, and I just gravitate towards it. An artist like Tonetta, although he doesn’t record to tape, has always resonated with me. I started recording into a computer with Garageband, so this has been a sort of backwards learning curve. I think most of the time, or at least with those a generation before me, people start with tape because that’s what’s available. For instance, learning a four track like a Tascam is not entirely intuitive. Figuring out bouncing left and right, activating certain tracks, etc. But I finally found a tape machine that I can comfortably work with. My understanding of it is that it’s the last four track cassette recorder ever put into production, maybe 2006, 2008? It’s called the Korg CR-4. It’s a wonderful machine. The nature of it is that it has built in speakers, which is cool, but it also has built in effects and amp simulators. You have to look into this machine. It’s fun. The inputs are direct, and this sounds trivial, but they are in the back of the machine, so you’re not reaching over the back, blindly hoping you’ll find the right input. Little things like that add up while you’re recording. It’s just a pain in the ass, you know what I mean? You just go in right through the front, you don’t have to pan it to the left or right, it’s just direct. Being a musician you usually end up, on some level, becoming some kind of a gear-head or something, and I don’t have a ton of gear, but you’re always looking for new things to make your process easier. I’ve kind of called it quits and decided that I’m only using this machine, hypothetically, for the rest of my life. I actually have two that I use at the same time. Otherwise, I’m done. I’m done looking for sounds! This machine has been good to me. I like it a lot. That’s how I made the album.

TP: I can imagine that between those two machines, bouncing ideas down, running them back through each other, all of that movement back and forth between two machines adds more life and character…you can almost hear those machines breathing on your record.

CL: Yes! The thing is, with a computer, everything is so intentional. I’m not saying that this is bad, but with my process, the accidents are actually real, and this works better for me on some level. For instance: I write pop songs. I’m not that really that “experimental”. I mean, there are some experimental elements on the record for sure, but typically, I am shooting to write a verse-chorus type of thing, and it can become a bit, I won’t saying “boring”, but predictable, which is fine. I like predictable. But to have real mistakes that I can’t really touch up helps me find the sound that I am looking for in the first place.

TP: With regards to computers, what role, if any, do they play in the music making process for you?

CL: They are exclusively used for the final step. I don’t use them for anything other than to digitize the tracks and share them with people. It just complicates things for me. I try to finish a track in four hours. The point of that is, and I’m sure this happens to everybody, but I can go as far as dedicating three weeks to a month to a song, and it is no better than the a song that took 25 minutes. I try to create something in four hours and the caveat is that it’s allowed to ‘suck’. It might turn out great and it might be something that I never want to hear again, but at least it’s done, you know?

TP: Very interesting. Do you find yourself making music more frequently in the day time or the night time? Does it really matter at all?

CL: I’m usually quite a night owl, although recently I’ve somehow managed to get on more of an early riser type of schedule which is a bit unusual, but yea, when I’m staying up until eight in the morning that usually means things are going pretty good! 

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TP: You are located in Chinatown in Manhattan. Space is obviously usually quite limited. What is your relationship to physical media like? Are you a record or book collector?

CL: That’s a good question. Very much not so, actually. I get by with the internet. The things I have, I tend to use. I do read often, and I have what I have, but I’m not, you know, seeking out first editions… I don’t even have a record player. It would be really special to own some of the records I play on the Uline show, but I’m okay not really collecting. 

TP: What about with your digital files? Files and folders that you accumulate for your NTS show, or your own music…do you organize and archive this stuff and save it on harddrives?

CL: Well it’s all archived on my laptop, and I have put it on thumb drives before, but the show is archived on NTS, thank god. When I do the Uline I tend to really make a point of not bleeding the songs together because the songs are possibly so rare that they’ll never show up again, and if anyone needs them again, they won’t have any bleed from previous songs and they can be extracted from those archived shows.

TP: Incredible. When it comes to uncovering this stuff, is it a really time intensive process for you? You are unearthing and presenting music that in many cases is so obscure.

CL: I dedicate the last four to five days before my deadline to be like, “I’m not doing anything else”. I order food and spend 12-13 hours going through all of my bookmarks. I’m not ever familiar with any of the songs before they go up there, so I enjoy the program as a fan of it just like anyone else does, it’s basically all that I listen to (laughs). And knock on wood, I don’t know how the fuck I keep finding stuff!

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TP: This reminds me of your album cover, the image that presents you as some sort of doorway. It’s as if these songs that never got their chance the first time around are out there, swimming in the ether towards you specifically, passing through your brain to find their way to us. 

CL: I hear you man! Sometimes if I’m on a psychedelic or something I can get on that wavelength, I know what you mean. 

TP: How would you describe or sum up the Uline catalogue show?

CL: Hmm. Not to be so clinical, but it’s just primarily an expression of my taste in music. What I exclude from the Uline is important. I don’t really fuck with music made beyond 1983, I don’t fuck with proto-punk too much, if that’s even relevant. I just like to stay in my zone, and I definitely don’t mean to sound xenophobic here, but I do tend to stick to English speaking music. For instance, there is a lot of very beautiful Japanese folk out there, extraordinary stuff, but I don’t know Japanese. I don’t know the history of Japanese music. I just feel that I can kind of understand the UK and the USA stuff, so I feel like I know where it sits in relation to everything, but if you are a Japanese artist you might be commenting on another major artist that I am unfamiliar with, so I think that’s a show for someone else.

TP: In both your music and your show I can recognize a particular sense of humor, a ridiculousness and absurdity that bleeds out of the lyrics, music, and aesthetics of 1960’s psychedelia; it’s something that has kept me drawn to and in love with this stuff for decades. Is this something that you also pick up on and intentionally showcase?

CL: Some of that music is certainly funny as hell. But first and foremost it has to resonate.

TP: Of course.

CL: Yeah, funny is good. If I find something funny I’m happy to put it on there.

TP: My last question is about a song you played a few months ago by Linda Finkle, called “Welcome To The Race”, the Hillary Clinton song. (Laughs)

CL: You see, that’s funny. But it’s also important because it’s a moment in time. With all of this stuff, its really a chain of people who bring this stuff to life, uploading, archiving it online. 

TP: I could talk about this stuff for hours, but I’ll let you go. I look forward to putting this record out together.

CL: It’s been great working with you. It’s been a perfect fit and really, really positive!

Laughed At An Attachment is out now on Maximum Exposure, streaming everywhere. Limited edition cassettes are also out now through Adhesive Sounds.

REFLECTIONS OF MATTER: THE GRATEFUL DEAD'S "DARK STAR" AND THE SECRET SIXTIES

By: Tony Price

The Grateful Dead’s “Dark Star” is not only the definitive musical expression of West Coast psychedelia, but the only artifact from the scene that came close to capturing the vast expanse of the new frontiers of inner space being that were being explored, exploited and experimented with in the 1960’s.

“We live in a very strange time”. A statement pasted against the walls of our United Mind, lining the curvature of our increasingly individuated reality tunnels. If you chase the various currents of our contemporary derangement, you soon find that they lead you westward.  

1960’s California was a sort of nexus point where the burgeoning strands of Cold War imperialism, techno-fetishism, and mass media converged into a new form of power. Somewhere in between the military-funded genesis of what we now call the internet, large scale experimentation with altered states of consciousness and the arch individualism and mass consumerism of the 1960s we find the contours of our current reality beginning to take shape. 

Our collective nostalgia for the Sixties, as anthologized in antiseptic Time Magazine retrospectives and vaseline-lensed music documentaries, presents us with a pastel-hued slideshow, snapshots of a time where “we almost changed things”. Be that as it may, we never truly stood a chance against Them. What the Sixties did offer us was a glance behind the curtain, a peek at the inner machinations of an empire in flux. 

An alternative recollection of the 1960’s recognizes the vast influence of intelligence research and the military-industrial complex undergirding the key political, cultural and economic shifts of the decade and the State’s shift of aim towards a frontier previously unconquered: inner space. 

The Grateful Dead formed in 1965 in Palo Alto, California. That the house band for the so-called counterculture should be born in one of the principle cities of Silicon Valley comes as no surprise. While popular mythology suggests that there was something Promethean in the air, the existence of programs and projects like MKUltra, CHAOS, COINTELPRO and ARPANET show us in retrospect just how inter-tangled the various facets of early internet research and the nascent counterculture were with military-intelligence interests.

The degree to which the Grateful Dead were an intelligence facet has been analyzed and debated to death in the nether regions of the internet. What cannot be denied, however, is that the early history of The Dead and their milieu is inextricably stitched to MKUltra and government LSD research. Dead lyricist Robert Hunter was an early volunteer test subject for psychedelic chemicals at Stanford University’s covertly CIA funded MKUltra program where he was paid to report back on trips on LSD, psilocybin and mescaline. John Perry Barlow, early cyberlibertarian internet advocate and lyricist for the band, admitted in 2002 that he had spent significant portions of time at the CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia. One of the counterculture’s more interesting characters, Owsley Stanley, the Dead’s early sound engineer and financier, was also a clandestine chemist notorious for being a principal source of LSD in the Haight, producing millions of legendary hits of the most potent ‘cid available. Owsley was the son to a government attorney, the grandson of a US Senator, and worked within the military-industrial complex, doing stints at Rocketdyne, the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, and Edwards Air Force Base. While studying at Stanford, Stanley began producing LSD. By 1965, he was producing hundreds of thousands of tabs of acid, becoming the primary source of LSD in the Bay Area. One must wonder where the means and funding to embark on such an endeavor might have come from, but that might just be a bit of the ol’ paranoia speaking. During his time at Stanford, author and fellow psychonaut Ken Kesey was also paid to serve as a guinea pig for studies in psychotomimetic drugs under MKUltra at the Veteran’s Hospital in Menlo Park. Kesey was the key architect behind the infamous “Acid Tests”, a series of Bay Area parties in the mid 60’s centered around the advocacy of LSD where hundreds of people “turned on” with the help of Owsley acid and wiggled away to the tune of the Dead’s electric excursions. 

Make what you will of this information, but there is no denying that there was an electricity pulsing through California at this time. The side effects of maniacal Cold War electronics research created a booming consumer electronics industry that allowed for advancements in sound recording and amplification technology. Inspired by the boundary pushing sonic developments being conducted by Joe Meek and George Martin + company across the pond, West Coast psychedelia found an entire generation of musicians mutilating speakers with transistor fuzz shrapnel and tape echo derangements in efforts to replicate in sound those technicolor visions swirling around their freshly fried minds. The Dead’s early studio recordings were groundbreaking in this regard, and worthy of investigation in their own right, but “Dark Star” was the only artifact from the scene that ever came close to encapsulating the terrifying vastness being encountered during those early inquisitions into the frontiers of our collective interior.  

The Grateful Dead - Dark Star (Single) (Warner Brothers 7186, 1968)

Released in 1968 on Warner Bros. as a two minute and fifty second single, the song was lyricist Robert Hunter’s first collaboration with the band. The track, noodly, drumless and stoned, features Hunter’s lysergic ruminations sung in harmony overtop a couch-locked arrangement of various guitars, organ and tambura. The track hangs like a sedated cloud, moving slow like ribbons of smoke off incense. It is one of the most understated and underrated singles of the late 1960’s. The band started playing the song live in 1968, and it would eventually become a centerpiece to their live sets up until 1974 when the song disappeared from setlists, save the odd occasion, until the 1990s. Live recordings of “Dark Star” from the late 1960s and early 1970s are unlike anything in the recorded history of rock and roll. 

It has been said of the I Ching and Tarot that within them one can find a model of the entirety of the universe. One is inclined to apply a similar mode of expression when trying to talk about these live recordings of “Dark Star”, for it as if every thread of American music finds itself unspooling simultaneously within them. “Dark Star” is endlessly suggestive; often expanding outward beyond the 20 minute mark, the Dead’s live extrapolations on the tune seem to have no beginning, middle or end. Sprawling, nonlinear and quantum, the band circles, swirling around the peripheries of a theme endlessly. Jerry Garcia’s spidery guitar spills out weblike; Daddy Long Legs like Uncle Sam on stilts; Appalachian triplets clogging through mists of feedback infinitum; silicon chip blues bends weeping in electric indigo; snaking sativa bebop figures in slow motion that tangle like a mess of live wires. It never moves, yet it never sits still, endlessly flowing into itself. 

Whatever it is that actually went on in the 1960’s we may never fully be able to comprehend. All that can be known for sure is that many of the textures that make up our current predicament can be traced back to happenings, developments and clandestine maneuvers of that time and that somewhere inside the meandering pathways and black holes of “Dark Star” lies the secret story of the 1960’s.

The Grateful Dead - Dark Star (Live) - 11/2/69 - The Family Dog at The Great High Way, San Francisco