Theoretical Girls
Theoretical Girls
[Acute; 2003]
Rating: 7.5
For the past few weeks, I’ve had a crash course in No Wave: from CDR mixes to press packets, to an interview with the big daddy of it all, James Chance, I’ve been absolutely deluged in a movement all but kept secret on my own New York streets for over twenty years. The cherry on top is finally being able to hear this archival release of the Theoretical Girls, a band whose moniker treaded close to becoming an apt description of their turbid presence in the history books of the late 70s downtown scene. Hypothetically, what would a band featuring hundred guitar orchestrator Glenn Branca, visual artist Margaret De Wys, Sonic Youth producer/engineer Wharton Tiers, and theatre/dance composer Jeffrey Lohn sound like were they still in their mid-twenties, when the city was still up for grabs and there were many aspects of rock that had yet to be turned by their forefathers the Ramones, Television, Talking Heads, and the others?
Surprisingly, they sound a lot more rock’n roll than their contemporary art credentials would lead you to surmise. And while the Glenn Branca reissue on Atavistic focused only on his singing contributions and the more avant leanings of the Girls, this set of songs descries the styling of Jeffrey Lohn, the more straightforward side of the group. Their theme song starts the disc off at full gallop, taking the thundering count-off numbers of the Ramones and stretching them to the limit, concentrating less on ideas and more on the mad tempo blast, straining to stay within the chords even as Tiers’ drums thump relentlessly. “Computer Dating” foresees the advent of Nerve.com, and the faceless frenzy of the New York City hook-up infects every note of the song like a chancrous outbreak.
Perhaps their closest contemporary at the time would be the Step Forward-era Fall, matching their raw rock non-production with the profuse, sneering verbiage of “Europe Man”, as well as embodying the lean, gleeful bounce from a few choice rhythmic elements, becoming the latter act's modus all the way through its Brix-era pop sensibilities. The unrefined keyboards of De Wys serve as link not only to the similarly primitive bleeps of pre-Eno Devo, but all the way through the spasmings of another Ohio group, Brainiac, nearly twenty years later. On “Lovin in the Red” her organ’s throbs act as contrary motion to the rest of the band, speeding and slowing defiant to the rhythms of the spiky guitar riffs of Branca and Lohn.
The only track ever to see Carter-era light-- as the A-side of their lone single-- “U.S. Millie” runs together inane pop culture references to Howard Johnson hotel chains, Jews for Jesus pamphlets, yogurt health, and Scientology at a Taxi Driver pace, contorting the marquee barrage of Times Square through Lohn’s catchy derisions and setting up the 3-card monte stand for Thurston Moore’s street hustles circa Sister-era Sonic Youth. Equally powerful is the frustrated garage rage of “No More Sex”, grunting and steaming like the nastiest of '77 punk. “Electronic Angie” howls secret constellations of blackened bubblegum on subway platforms, illuminating the preordained patterns of sidewalk cracks and black tar asphalt. Real street gospel.
Some of Lohn’s experiments, like “Keyboard Etude” and “Polytonal", are too short and unformed to be effective, especially in light of Branca’s buzzing behemoths. “Parlez-vous Francais” works despite their tendencies to shout lyrics in French, but even as redundant tracks appear on the second half of the disc, songs like “Theoretical Girls”, “Electronic Angie” and “Chicita Bonita” are high voltage and variegated enough to warrant revising those old No Wave maps, which right now only include DNA, Mars, Teenage Jesus, and the Contortions.
-Andy Beta, April 15, 2003
Review by Uncle Dave Lewis
Some may believe, if they are aware of the late-'70s New York no wave scene at all, that the genre begins and ends with the Brian Eno-produced compilation No New York. But only four bands are found on that album, and in truth there were dozens of New York-based groups that fell into the no wave category represented only by a single or two, a ROIR cassette, or nothing. Theoretical Girls were a major group in New York no wave, but their reputation mainly rests on one small-run 45 containing two songs that was issued on their own Theoretical Records imprint in 1978. The 19 selections heard on this disc, the first release from Acute Records, vastly improves Theoretical Girls' fortunes, albeit more than 20 years late. It constitutes a treasure trove of classic New York no wave that anyone interested in this genre will want.
Theoretical Girls were led by guitarist, keyboardist, and singer Jeffrey Lohn and featured future legendary New York producer Wharton Tiers on drums, Glenn Branca on guitar, and avant-garde composer Margaret De Wys on keyboards and bass. On the Acute disc Lohn is the primary writer and singer on all the material included, although the others pitch in backing vocals from time to time. "U.S. Millie," the track included from the single, is an acknowledged classic of the genre and makes its bow on CD here. There is little detail provided as to the origin of the recordings, and no notes to speak of, but some are obviously live, others are from rehearsals and yet others may be low-budget studio recordings or demos. Certainly these recordings are better preserved, or at least more carefully transferred, than the average no wave artifacts that have surfaced so far on CD. The sound of Theoretical Girls is like a well-oiled machine that nonetheless has several moving parts sticking out of it. As Theoretical Girls' drummer, Wharton Tiers works magic, keeping these difficult arrangements (and divergent stylists) on one page. Margaret De Wys demonstrates that among no wave keyboardists (such as the Contortions' Adele Bertei and DNA's Robin Crutchfield) she had a unique sound, particularly shrill and disjointed, yet amply fitting the bill. Alternate versions are given for some titles, and in the case of "Chicita Bonita" this is particularly helpful, as the alternate has entirely different surface elements, yet the structural underpinning is the same. The two versions of "Chicita Bonita" are only six seconds apart in length, although they sound wholly different. The band's theme, "Theoretical Girls," succeeds in being hypnotic, compelling, noisy, innovative, and catchy all at once with its counting and repetition; indeed, the word "innovation" could be applied to any number of the pieces included here.
Theoretical Girls split up in 1981, and shortly thereafter Glenn Branca went onto prominence as a semi-classical composer of noisy, massed electric guitar symphonies. The others were not quite so lucky in terms of celebrity, and in Lohn's case this lack of recognition has been something of a sore spot. Hopefully, the Acute release will help to improve matters all around. One side of the original single, "You Got Me," was withheld from this all-Theoretical Girls disc, as it was written by Branca; it can be found on his Atavistic compilation Songs '77-'79. Despite that so much time has gone by, and that so many bands have worked towards a similar end since, Theoretical Girls are still fresh, edgy, witty, raw, and fun. None of this music has a date stamped on its forehead, and it remains both timeless and welcome after its long eclipse and obscurity.
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