A Steve Albini Primer for the Young Folk

1. Steve Albini has had a significant influence on rock music. He was in a band that influenced a lot of other bands. He produced lots of those bands. If you live in America, you've heard one of these bands. But Albini is a polarizing figure; not all agree that his influence is salutary. Most of this irritation stems from two things: his stringent demands for integrity in music and his own apparent violations of the edicts he lays down. Also, he's probably the most arrogant guy on the planet.

2. Stevey started out writing arrogant articles for Chicago zines. (He was also in a New Wave band, but he'd probably prefer that you didn't know that.) As a zine writer, Albini demanded "independence, self-determination, absolute total honesty and common sense" from bands and was always ready to write some off as sellouts. In 1982, he formed Big Black. Big Black is a band you've probably never heard of. Steve likes it this way. After a couple years of touring and a couple albums, Big Black broke up because too maybe people liked them. Meaning about 1,000 people. Steve's that kind of guy.

3. Big Black recorded some very good music. Its last album is generally considered its best. It's full of extremely dissonant noise and lyrics like, "I started out hating myself and when I'm through / I've gotta have something to hate, and I guess it's you," but the lyrics are pretty much unintelligible. It is a very good album. Its volume and distortion and proto-industrial sound and depressing, violent lyrics do not make it an easy listen; it's actually hard to believe that just two guitars, a bass, a drum machine and Steve's angry voice can make such a wonderful racket. This album is called Songs about Fucking. Steve's that kind of guy.

4. Steve's next band was equally impolitic; he named it Rapeman. Rapeman was quieter than Big Black, but this is relative. It had a human drummer, for one thing. Rapeman had only one album; it was named Two Nuns and a Pack Mule. The best song builds slowly from a single guitar and frequent silences; then it adds a bass line, then some white noise and then Steve's voice. The song is hypnotic, even lovely, but in typical Albini fashion, this song is called "Kim Gordon's Panties" and features classy lyrics like "If I had that to come home to, I'd never leave my bed." Steve's that kind of guy.

5. Rapeman fell apart in 1989, and Steve started to concentrate on producing other bands. But don't tell Steve that; he'll answer that he's a "recording engineer." Steve prefers this because he says his job could be done by anyone with the proper knowledge of equipment; he's a professional and not an artist in this capacity. Steve engineered albums for many bands, some of which were quite successful. And then, in 1993, Steve engineered In Utero for Nirvana. (This despite calling Nirvana a "wannabe Led Zeppelin" in 1991.) Steve became very popular and went on to engineer albums by people like Bush and JimmyPage & Robert Plant. He also engineers albums forpopular bands like the Breeders and PJ Harvey andless well-known bands like the Jesus Lizard andMan...Or Astro-Man?. It is worthy of note thatSteve refuses royalties on all work he engineers.He walks the walk. But most people wish he'd justshut the hell up with the talk, already.

6. By 1994, Steve was having credibilityproblems. If Steve was so quick to call bandssell-outs (and even quicker to call themuntalented hacks), what the hell was he doingproducing albums for a bunch of major labelmonstrosities? Steve's answer--that sinceengineering's not an art, he's not prostitutinghimself, but rather extorting major labels withoutgiving a damn about the quality of the music hehappens to be recording--is relatively reasonable,but he's still intuitively branded a sell-out bymany. His position is somewhat undercut by hisdistinctive "engineering" style, which is perhapsthe most influential Albini legacy. Steve tries tomake it sound like the band is performing live inyour speakers, and he's quite good at this. Heusually mixes guitars and drums high and vocalslow. Music critics usually dub the sound "raw,"but this is a simplification.

7. Some have speculated that Steve's arroganceis a product of growing up in culturally deficientMinnesota, that he still feels as though he has toprove he's not from the sticks, that really he'squite insecure deep-down, if only you'd get toknow him. Others just peg him as an asshole. Thisseems to be supported by his statement that "Whatwe sing about is none of your business anyway."Why bother recording or performing it, then? Or,from the Big Black tour diary available on the Web(which is remarkably funny and depressing):"Audience hatred reached a new plateau."

8. Steve's latest band is Shellac. He playsguitar and sings, Bob Weston plays bass, and ToddTrainer drums. Their sound is sparser, funkier,still aggressive and loud, but significantly morerepetitive, less interesting and lessground-breaking than Big Black. My roommate heard"My Black Ass," the first song on their '94 LPAt Action Park, and asked, "Is this RageAgainst the Machine?" (It only took me a week orso to speak to him again.) Steve has announcedthat all Shellac songs are about either Canada orbaseball. Steve is now 36, and his indiecredibility is fading fast.

9. PUBLIC DISCLOSURE: My Personal Beef with Mr.Steve Albini: Steve called Surfer Rosa, thefirst album by the Pixies and an album notincidentally produced by Steve-o himself, "apatchwork pinch loaf from a band who at their topdollar best are blandly entertaining collegerock." This really angers up the blood. SurferRosa is one of the best rock albums ever. ThePixies are one of the best rock bands ever. On theother hand, Steve recorded a song called "nuttyabout lemurs." This counts for a lot, in my book.

10. On Saturday, October 24, Shellac performedlive at 84 Kingston St., a loft near Chinatown,around 2 p.m.. The show had no publicity. To reachthe show, you had to wait in a line that wound itsway up stairs festooned with graffiti and oddsmells, like how you pass through a themed areawhile you're waiting in line for a ride at anamusement park. Victory at Sea opened. When theybegan to play, my friend said, "Oh no! They havefeelings they'd like to share with us!" And indeedthey did. Or I think they did. Lots of bands thesedays make it difficult to tell what they'resinging about. Victory at Sea played what I wouldin a generous mood call meditative songs, but whatI will instead call droning and boring songs, thatwent on forever. A guitar/bass/drums trio likeShellac, they'd play the same thing for a minuteor so, and then the singer would shout out thesong's lyric, which was obliquely personal. Andthey'd repeat it five or six times. It wasinteresting the first couple of times.

11. The first thing that struck me aboutShellac is that Steve Albini is the spitting imageof George Stephanopolous. There's no two waysabout it. Steve announced that the venue waschosen "to keep money out of the hands of JohnLaw." Steve spouted other pretension, deadserious. Post-representational art is lazy, hesaid. He insulted the crowd. He insisted onconfiscating all recording devices in the audienceto prevent bootlegging. He bragged about the $800drum mics. He noted that he was old enough to bethe father of all the crowd's members, which isbiologically true, but pretty unlikely.

12. And then Shellac played. Shellac was good.I had always been under the impression that thevocals were distorted, but that's just the waySteve sounds when he's yelling. Steve jumpedaround a lot and banged his head. Bob Weston's apudgy guy, with curly blond hair. Todd Trainer isthe ugliest man alive--he looks like Splinter fromthe Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. All of them canplay the hell out of their instruments. Theystarted with "The Guy Who Invented Fire" and thenplayed all the memorable songs from the firstalbum--"A Minute," "Dog and Pony Show," "TheAdmiral"--and many of their less memorable songsfrom their new album, Terraform. Theyclosed with Terraform's interminableopener, "Didn't We Deserve A Look At You The WayYou Really Are." Steve warned us that it would belong and boring and, boy, was it ever.

13. In between, the show was impressive: liverock in the afternoon could've been awkward, butShellac's energy and enthusiasm (for the music, ifnot the crowd) carried the day. Unfortunately, asthe concert wore on, I remembered why I didn'thaul out the ol' Shellac LP that often; theirsongs are too long on record, and played live,they often stretched out to unfortunate lengths.Too, the songs tend to be remarkably similar toone another, especially when they're all reallyloud. Shellac played for about an hour and a half;I was bored silly by the end, but I'd gotten myfive bucks worth. Shellac's that kind of band

6. By 1994, Steve was having credibilityproblems. If Steve was so quick to call bandssell-outs (and even quicker to call themuntalented hacks), what the hell was he doingproducing albums for a bunch of major labelmonstrosities? Steve's answer--that sinceengineering's not an art, he's not prostitutinghimself, but rather extorting major labels withoutgiving a damn about the quality of the music hehappens to be recording--is relatively reasonable,but he's still intuitively branded a sell-out bymany. His position is somewhat undercut by hisdistinctive "engineering" style, which is perhapsthe most influential Albini legacy. Steve tries tomake it sound like the band is performing live inyour speakers, and he's quite good at this. Heusually mixes guitars and drums high and vocalslow. Music critics usually dub the sound "raw,"but this is a simplification.

7. Some have speculated that Steve's arroganceis a product of growing up in culturally deficientMinnesota, that he still feels as though he has toprove he's not from the sticks, that really he'squite insecure deep-down, if only you'd get toknow him. Others just peg him as an asshole. Thisseems to be supported by his statement that "Whatwe sing about is none of your business anyway."Why bother recording or performing it, then? Or,from the Big Black tour diary available on the Web(which is remarkably funny and depressing):"Audience hatred reached a new plateau."

8. Steve's latest band is Shellac. He playsguitar and sings, Bob Weston plays bass, and ToddTrainer drums. Their sound is sparser, funkier,still aggressive and loud, but significantly morerepetitive, less interesting and lessground-breaking than Big Black. My roommate heard"My Black Ass," the first song on their '94 LPAt Action Park, and asked, "Is this RageAgainst the Machine?" (It only took me a week orso to speak to him again.) Steve has announcedthat all Shellac songs are about either Canada orbaseball. Steve is now 36, and his indiecredibility is fading fast.

9. PUBLIC DISCLOSURE: My Personal Beef with Mr.Steve Albini: Steve called Surfer Rosa, thefirst album by the Pixies and an album notincidentally produced by Steve-o himself, "apatchwork pinch loaf from a band who at their topdollar best are blandly entertaining collegerock." This really angers up the blood. SurferRosa is one of the best rock albums ever. ThePixies are one of the best rock bands ever. On theother hand, Steve recorded a song called "nuttyabout lemurs." This counts for a lot, in my book.

10. On Saturday, October 24, Shellac performedlive at 84 Kingston St., a loft near Chinatown,around 2 p.m.. The show had no publicity. To reachthe show, you had to wait in a line that wound itsway up stairs festooned with graffiti and oddsmells, like how you pass through a themed areawhile you're waiting in line for a ride at anamusement park. Victory at Sea opened. When theybegan to play, my friend said, "Oh no! They havefeelings they'd like to share with us!" And indeedthey did. Or I think they did. Lots of bands thesedays make it difficult to tell what they'resinging about. Victory at Sea played what I wouldin a generous mood call meditative songs, but whatI will instead call droning and boring songs, thatwent on forever. A guitar/bass/drums trio likeShellac, they'd play the same thing for a minuteor so, and then the singer would shout out thesong's lyric, which was obliquely personal. Andthey'd repeat it five or six times. It wasinteresting the first couple of times.

11. The first thing that struck me aboutShellac is that Steve Albini is the spitting imageof George Stephanopolous. There's no two waysabout it. Steve announced that the venue waschosen "to keep money out of the hands of JohnLaw." Steve spouted other pretension, deadserious. Post-representational art is lazy, hesaid. He insulted the crowd. He insisted onconfiscating all recording devices in the audienceto prevent bootlegging. He bragged about the $800drum mics. He noted that he was old enough to bethe father of all the crowd's members, which isbiologically true, but pretty unlikely.

12. And then Shellac played. Shellac was good.I had always been under the impression that thevocals were distorted, but that's just the waySteve sounds when he's yelling. Steve jumpedaround a lot and banged his head. Bob Weston's apudgy guy, with curly blond hair. Todd Trainer isthe ugliest man alive--he looks like Splinter fromthe Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. All of them canplay the hell out of their instruments. Theystarted with "The Guy Who Invented Fire" and thenplayed all the memorable songs from the firstalbum--"A Minute," "Dog and Pony Show," "TheAdmiral"--and many of their less memorable songsfrom their new album, Terraform. Theyclosed with Terraform's interminableopener, "Didn't We Deserve A Look At You The WayYou Really Are." Steve warned us that it would belong and boring and, boy, was it ever.

13. In between, the show was impressive: liverock in the afternoon could've been awkward, butShellac's energy and enthusiasm (for the music, ifnot the crowd) carried the day. Unfortunately, asthe concert wore on, I remembered why I didn'thaul out the ol' Shellac LP that often; theirsongs are too long on record, and played live,they often stretched out to unfortunate lengths.Too, the songs tend to be remarkably similar toone another, especially when they're all reallyloud. Shellac played for about an hour and a half;I was bored silly by the end, but I'd gotten myfive bucks worth. Shellac's that kind of band