hugo race: existential blues

It is necessary to begin this review of Hugo Race and band, and their recent show at The Toff in Town, with a definition. The term I wish to define and which I think applies to the music of Race is that of 'Existential Blues'. Conceptually, there are three characteristics comprising this subgenus of traditional blues music. I will attempt to elicit and illuminate these characteristics by using examples from Race's punk rock pedigree, the free form melodic structure of his recent music, and the terms of bewilderment implied by the disconcerting lyrics as these are present in his songwriting. In a recent interview Race is quoted as saying: "I'm prolific because I can't think of anything better to do with myself. And there it all is". (Hugo Race: 'I Never Wanted to be in that Expat Diaspora', Shaun Prescott, Mess & Noise, http://www.messandnoise.com/articles/4210739). Confronted by mortality, or the psychopathology of pending oblivion, Race, band, and their current sound as exemplified by the Fatalists album, is laced with a pathos associated with the threat of extinction. With this sombre thought in mind we can begin to examine what it means for a definition of an existential blues.

     Unlike many Australian rock musicians that flourished, then disappeared, during the mid 70's and 80's, Race continues to produce music. During Saturday night's gig at the Toff an initially unreceptive audience was assaulted by songs expressing a loathing for insatiable narcotic need, fabulist evil, the intellectual void posed by evangelistic consumerism, and several ballads by Race one of which detailed his indifference to matters of the heart. Further accentuating the risk involved in this approach was, that for the first third of the show, the sound-mix was atrocious. At one point, Race's vocals completely disappeared. Consequently, many in the audience seemed preoccupied, and the ensuing chatter was such that might be experienced at a cocktail party celebrating the Spring Racing Carnival. 
    But Race, Michelangelo Russo, and Helhound 'Patch' Brown were unperturbed. Here, Race and band employed a strategy that reflected the early ethos of punk rock, its inevitable decline, and its transformation into the sound of the 'New Wave'. In other words, Race and band appeared to suggest that if the audience didn't like what they were hearing then they could all go and get fucked. However, rather than pummel the audience with a belligerent animosity provoked by rejection, Race and band struck their inattentive audience with songs that illuminated the predicament that had arisen between them. Dope Fiends was unleashed upon this audience with the intensity and experiential bitterness of a harrow descending upon flesh. Race's disdain was obvious. But he channeled this into a lyrical critique that eventually silenced the aforementioned chatter. I don't believe I have ever seen a band work so hard to regain the attention of an audience, and then succeed. 

     Here, this same strategy exemplifies the first conceptual requirement for the establishment of an existential blues. The lyrics of a song are no longer concerned with love, loss, sex, sadness or heavenly despair. Instead, they bleat alienation, indifference, accusation, isolation and the illumination of an intellectual void the presence of which is fundamental to daily life in 2011. The early punk ethos re-emerges within a framework of musical maturity, and it is this maturity that helps define this version of the blues as existential.

    Of course, it is plausible to argue that rock music is both a derivative of and a progression away from traditional blues music. That is, the twelve bar melodic structure of the blues has been adapted to, expanded upon and reconfigured into the infinite permutations of rock. Often, rock musicians embark upon a journey to rediscover their 'roots' and this functions as code for delineating a desire to return to the twelve bar form of the blues as well as its earthy, direct sound. Race is no exception here: his 1987 title track Rue Morgue Blues is in part a delineation of the above desire. Furthermore, bluesman Chris Wilson plays harp on three of the album's ten tracks and his presence on the album reinforces Race's desire for retrospection. 

    Twenty three years later, at the Toff in Town show 2011, Race and current band perform the consequences of this retrospection. The songs from Fatalists have a fiscal structure. In absentia is the meandering experimentation of The Goldstreet Sessions (2004). Instead, Fatalists is thrifty, if not minimal and synchronised between Race, Russo, Brown, and their respective instruments. At one point Brown strums a single chord in retaliation to the rhythms of Race's balladry. It is a defiant and concentrated musical gesture from a disciplined guitarist quietly capable of positioning his sound between the ambitions of his musical collaborators. Here, an existential blues is formally evidenced as an oppositional strategy that not only substantiates Brown's stage presence. It also interferes with more traditional blues melody by procuring within the ensemble a tonal shock that interrupts an audience sensibilites. Many appear confused, disenchanted and even angry toward the band. One punter will take no more and he escapes to an exterior balcony. But it is also apparent that many have attended expecting music more consistent with the current solo-acoustic fascination as exemplified by singer-songwriter Pete Murray. Race the balladeer is having none of that; while simultaneously aware of, and perhaps capitalising upon this same fascination, it is when he proclaims that tonight's audience should expect the unexpected that this statement is also a directorate to the band. Here, an existential blues is made explicit by the sampled diatonic of Michelangelo Russo's exponential harmonica.

   One instrument that typifies traditional blues music is the diatonic harmonica. Race and band are aware of its representative character. But on the Fatalists album it is imperative that the harp resonate beyond its albeit unique limitations. Russo samples his playing of the harp then feeds this back into the overall sound of the band. The consequent sonic levitates in the air above as an omnipotent force that fortuitously punctuates this performance. Russo's sample is at once a manifestation of free will, open form and pure chance. Relinquished is the traditional blues function of the harp as either a lead, rhythm support, or fill instrument. Instead, Russo's harp becomes its own hiatus. That is, it creates its own musical space that dances above and is distinct from the guitars of Race and Brown, while remaining receptive to any chance encounters that may occur between these elements. Either way, Russo's harp is exponential because it propels harmonica method forward by utilising contemporary technology. It is this same open configuration of the harmonica's sound that contributes to the substantiation of a blues that is existential. 

      Free will, open form and chance are established characteristics of existentialism. But it is the dystopic repetition elucidated from Race's lyrics that situates Fatalists as postmodern. (Some say avant-garde, but as any bewildered postmodernist will testify, the avant-garde has died a thousand deaths and will continue to do so in the same way as a mouse remains stationary on a treadmill). This dystopic repetition is exemplified by a song such as Slow Fry. Here resides the withering paradox of a tune that demands mainstream attention, but is infused with and counterpointed by Race's defiant scepticism. Any attitude of 'Out of the fry pan and into the fire' is tempered by an awareness that in the fickle business of music survival is dependent upon continuing to sizzle. As a reminder to the reader I re-quote Race and his attitude to prolificacy. "I'm prolific because I can't think of anything better to do with myself And there it all is". 

    This quote by Race is also a statement of Sisyphean intent. Similarly, the relentless dystopia as characterised by his songwriting can also be situated within this mythological/ existential context. (Anecdotally, I recall Race's reaction to a theatre production we worked on. The blurb for the play titled The Antechamber was 'Life's a tour, then you die". His perceived reaction appeared to conceal an awareness that for Race, there was truth in this statement; particularly reflecting his more recent shuffle between European tour and Australian residency). But just as the figure of Sisyphus was condemned by Zeus to an infuriating after-life, and then utilised by Camus as a propensity that illuminated the human predicament as this was contextualised by existentialism, the Fatalists album can also be characterised as Deterministic. (Whether Christian or secular, the context of this Determinism is difficult to apprehend. Suffice it to say that Race's lyrics appear to reside in a godless world). Either way, this Determinism was on display at his recent show at The Toff in Town, Melbourne.

      Determinism is a prismatic concept. Here, I should contextualise and specify my use of the term. During the Toff show it was apparent that the inherent contradiction that permeates Race's music and Fatalists is as follows: a musical form dependent upon chance that is exponential in practice exists in dichotomy to lyrics that in general, express an attitude of destiny consistent with the rigor and control in which these lyrics are performed. Put simply, chance and control collide to produce performances that are simultaneously risky yet musically familiar. Russo and his sampled harmonica personify chance, Race and his lyrics personify control, and Brown's minimalism mediates these two extremes. This is why the Toff audience was initially confused by its experience. Race and band are an acquired taste. But once that taste is acquired it becomes a contagion as infectious as the melodic pummel of Serpent's Egg, the ironic, aspirational pop of Slow Fry, or the disconsolate insult upon the sensibility of an audience that in effect, is Dope Fiends. These are all characteristics of an existential blues. Restless and dogmatic, cynical but experimental, disobedient, offensive and yet a tantalising rumination upon a musical genre that continues to fascinate musicians and attract an audience, this dog just will not lie down.

HUGO RACE, with Michelangelo Russo & Hellhound 'Patch' Brown.

The Toff in Town, December 10, 2011, Melbourne.