Blonde Redhead
Since their inception in 1993, New York’s Blonde Redhead have delivered Sonic Youth-meets-Unwound-style indie-rock with undisputed proficiency. In recent years, the band, which began as a quartet but is now a trio, has spent its time elegantly scraping together an unnerving and beautiful sound all its own. Dark and urbane, Blonde Redhead have nurtured a careful and creative aesthetic, even if they have been criticized as bearing too boldly others’ sonic signatures. Half the founding members, Kazu Makino and Maki Takahashi, painted china for a living before Blonde Redhead, and their faithful musical reproductions seem just as deliberate and careful. But, no mater how derivative, they’ve always turned no-wave detachment and noise into an immediate connection with audiences and done so with remarkable grace and spirit.
Their self-titled debut, released on Steve Shelley’s Smell Like Records, was considered revolutionary to many when it was released. Sonic Youth had never turned their most melodic moments into pop records and, for better or worse, Blonde Redhead were there to pick up the slack. “I Don’t Want You” was a bona fide anthem, a cathartic display of blissful discordance with explosive guitars and suspenseful, sideways-glancing rhythms. If Dustdevils were a testament to SY’s choking-on-molten-soder noisecraft, Blonde Redhead gave more resolution to the fiery, abstract pop of such hits as “Teenage Riot,” “Eric’s Trip” and “Death Valley 69.”
On their first West Coast tour, they made a formidable showing as a tastefully, carefully tuned live band. Guitars handled by Amadeo Pace and Kazu Makino worked around one another with intriguing dexterity and produced glassy, shimmering tones; vocalist/guitarist Makino’s staggering range and captivating voice were awe-inspiring. Rhythms were smartly edited by drummer Simone Pace, who used maracas to loop hypnotic, angular grooves that simultaneously led and followed the other instruments. Bassist Takahashi held down the roots as she tended to her oft-candied and bleeding nose onstage.
The band’s second chapter featured Unwound’s Vern Rumsey temporarily replacing Takahashi on bass. With newly earned, unassailable credibility, Blonde Redhead’s second album, Fake Can Be Just As Good, was an accelerating and braking car ride on Rumsey’s bass. Simone Pace kept up with Rumsey and the others stretched out, spending less time in melodic hyperspace and spending more time embracing the noise and freedom of heaved and teetering rhythms. Still, Blonde Redhead had a stylish knack for staying in control of their songs both onstage and in the studio, a quality that’s become vital to their new, perfectly edited sound and live fury.
Blonde Redhead are now finally distancing themselves from the comparisons and consequently are making some of their most original work. They’ve found a balance where the inventive rhythm and detailed melodies a re equally billed. “Missile + +” (from 1998’s in an expression of the inexpressible) is a perfect example: nauseated, lurching beats are juxtaposed with a car-alarm-like pulse, while breaks and fills of tabla and flute alleviate the tension – and yet you’d still call it a pop song. Makino’s voice is still an obvious focus, and it should be – her chilling shrieks and rich, pained soprano aren’t only frighteningly rare but disarming and unmistakable. One can only hope they’ve kept it up on their upcoming album, Melody Of Certain Damaged Lemons (due May 22nd on Touch and Go). –Kelly Bauman
