Where we discuss Nothing, Something, Scenius, The Residents, Crass, Pyramid Club, and SABOT.

How can Something come from Nothing? It’s been a thought doing the rounds in my skull recently. Mostly in the context of how an act of creative hopefulness can turn a blank page into something less than blank or an empty recording session into something containing nuance, hidden surprises, and spectacular noise.

It is, of course, a silly idea. There is no such thing as Nothing for Something to come from. Something always comes from something else, evident, obvious, or otherwise. I did not start from a point that contains no things. I could not write this without a backstory, a previous, a moment leading up-to. There was no blank page. Nothing is an illusion that contradicts itself because an illusion is Something.

Nothing may be less about the actual absence of Something and more the actual evidence of a blindspot we carry with us as move through the world in our simplified way, waiting for a perceptive shift, an inspiration, that teaches us to see anew a thing that previous lived in the invisible.

At one point in the past, when the human eye looked into the smallest places of the World, they were unable to see anything. They thought these spaces were inhabited by nothing. The invention of the microscope changed that forever, and a whole new strata became evident and present, riddled with things. What was once invisible could now not be unseen.

Up here in the land of the human, there are those who are lauded for the ‘creating’ of something from nothing, often called Genius, or Artist. It is an idealistic concept of a rarified creative individual that others can put on a plinth. There are generally financial attachments and investments in such positions. But rarified is not the same as rare. Creativity is not rare at all.

Genius is an overused word. It amplifies the suggested brilliance of the individual.

Scenius is an underused word. It is a word that amplifies the brilliance of community.

Coined by musician Brian Eno scenius “…stands for the intelligence and the intuition of a whole cultural scene. It is the communal form of the concept of the genius.” A scene is an ecosystem where things feed other things. It can nurture and prune, hold spaces for exploration and fine-tuning of concepts. And scenes become incredible when they become intergenerational. A scene is also difficult to commodify and monetize.

For me, The Residents, from San Francisco, are a band who fit this bill. I first remember seeing them on the TV show, Radio with Pictures, on a Sunday night in the early 80’s. It was the video for the unforgettable “Moisture” from the Commercial Album. 

This band became infamous for its anonymity, iconic for the eyeball masks they wore. They made music, videos, visual art, concepts, performances and confusion. The line-up anonymously seemed to shift (around an unnamed core), change, adjust as required, and actively avoided centring on a personality. And around this act were a bunch of other bands, not sonically the same but connected into a scene, encouraged by a shared like-mindedness to explore the odder corners of music and art. 

The anarchist punk collective, Crass is another group that does this for me. They were overtly political in their sound, visuals, performances, and community-making. When I was young, I was in awe of what seemed like their overarching conceptual genius, but now I realise it was the brilliance of the many participants that enabled this effect. A cohesion of a community working together, each to their own strengths, creating something far greater than they could have done individually. This, in turn, inspired others, globally, to create and participate, make music, art, publishing, political activism, and much more beyond the output of Crass. 

Another more local example is the Pyramid Club. It is an incredible hub which is “…the home of experimental music and sonic arts in Te Whanganui-a-Tara, Aotearoa. As an artist-run organisation and venue dedicated to experimental practice, Pyramid Club provides a physical and conceptual space for artists whose work falls outside the scope of commercial performance venues.” And it does what it says it does.

Of course, there are people responsible for the administration, but the venue both fosters and flourishes from a vibrant and healthy community. There is such an incredible array of explorations and expressions of music making from across multiple generations. Prior to Pyramid was Freds, and before that was Happy, and before that, The Space. Nearly 30 years of continuous venues for the musical oddballs of this city. This story goes back further to the early 80’s when punk arrived in a very different city. Into this space came another scene, the Primitive Art Group, a free-jazz gathering, who have recently had their story told in the beautiful book, Future Jaw-Clap. Some of the Primitive Art Group can still be seen performing at The Pyramid Club today.

A scene is more than environment, it is ecosystem. Entangled connections going both ways in time. Like a fungal mycelial network, it has sought areas of nutrition and connection. Some connections sustain, others shift and change as people come and go, commitments and demands take precedent, and life changes. But there is enough of a mesh knitting this all together. Growth takes place in multiple areas, and in unpredictable ways. 

My introduction into this community started in the late 90’s at The Space in Newtown. It was a venue welcoming to my ideas of festivals, shows, film-nights and other events. I also learned from the exposures to new and unknown things. I am immensely thankful for the opportunities and exposures, the connections, friendships, concerts and opportunities experienced since then. I could not do now what I do without the brilliance of the local scenius, the individuals that make up this communities, playful, quizzical, committed, serious, and persistent.

These ideas all tie nicely into the concept of D.I.Y, Do it Yourself. An acronym that came from a time in punk rock when the only way to release music, organising shows etc was by doing it yourself. It made a lot of sense at the time. But I feel that it’s an idea that needs an update. Many of those original challenges are less of an issue now we have the internet. 

Then I think of the wonderful band SABOT. Originally from San Francisco, later resettling in Tabor, Czech Republic, where they embarked on a project of scene/community building. We met them on their first tour of Aotearoa, and for us it was another life-changing experience for the better. The album they were promoting on that tour is called D.I.O – Doing it Ourselves. It is a statement of the intent of the We, the Us. This is the update to the loneliness of the ‘Yourself’, a return to the brilliance of together.

None of this is from Nothing. And none of this is for Nothing either. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!

Soundbitten:

1. It’s been a long time. When were we all last in one place? Since before the virus? I stand here, by the sounds of frying, and kitchen sink, preparing a meal for this celebration.  For us gathered. And I listen to all your voices. The details are missing but the chorus is sublime. The rise and fall of each other, the laughter, the comfortable silence between. What a song!.
   
2. It’s there again! Is an angry wasp in my pillow? Something’s definitely hinting Wake up! I’m too sleepy to be really worried. There’s no pain, I am not roused to action. Space is sated in silence till the next bout of yelling. Wake up! The sleep is deep. No pain means no action. Shhh little bee, go back to sleep, enough of the buzzing, you’ll wake the neighbours!
   
3. Hear unison from the second floor opposite. Go outside, get closer. Maybe Mandarin, Cantonese, a dialect? I wouldn’t know the difference. Some percussion holds time. Strings duet with the women of that room, singing songs of other places. Listen long enough, repetition, reprise. It’s free from the window, echoing between buildings, between worlds.
   
4. Simple times and simple kids, the rules were clear, it was one or the other. Punk or Metal. Sex Pistols or Judas Priest, One-Way System or Iron Maiden, The Damned or Motorhead. Who set these demands, idiots most likely. Regardless, the Sex Pistols won, like a three-chord distorted religious epiphany. An earth-shifting energy bending these ears forever.
   
5. Experiment: Three glass vessel, three pea-shoots. Observe patterns of root growth. No.1: Water flows into one corner. Observe: Roots grow towards the water. No.2:  No flowing water. Observe: Searching and branching root distribution. No.3: A speaker playing recorded water sounds. Observe: Root growth towards the sounds. Question: Do they hear?