NEGATIVLAND - Deathsentences of the Polished and Structurally Weak
2002
Seeland 023 Book/CD
TAPE OP
December 2002Negativland present us with one of the best CD packaging jobs ever, a work of art (I won't even try to explain, just buy this) and one of their most "difficult" listening events yet. It reminds me of the scary "Go to sleep, Tommy" tape collage stuff from their third album. Gone are the humorous songs or easy-to-digest collages. This is powerful, evocative stuff and all the more amazing that no digital editing was employed in its construction.
- Larry Crane.
NEWSWEEK Sept 23, 2002
Other People's Property: Trash found in scrapped cars becomes an art project -
It's an often-ignored request, but you may pay more attention to the phrase "Please remember to take all your personal belongings" after seeing Negativland's eerily mesmerizing new project, "Deathsentences of the Polished and Structurally Weak." The artist's collective spent the past few years scavenging in junked cars to rescue letters, shopping lists, party invites, sheet music, certificates of completion and sonograms. The result: a photo book of their findings and the cars they came from (an accompanying CD sounds like a car crash).
The belongings show a direct relationship between people whose cars get scrapped and poor spelling; kudos, however, to Nicole on that math assignment. In truth, the papers are fascinating because of what you don't know about them: where they're from, whom they were intended for, the fate of the passengers delivering them. People are already being inspired. Says founding member Richard Lyons, "Friends are going to wrecking yards" -many charge only $1 - saying, 'We're going scrapping!' "-Bret Begun
LOS ANGELES TIMES, September 26, 2002
Negativland Finds Its Muse at the Auto Wrecking Yard -
For more than 20 years, Negativland has earned renown for manipulation of both tape and media. A 1989 news release by the audio-visual art collective falsely claimed that a Minnesota teen who had killed his family had cited Negativland's provocative track "Christianity Is Stupid" as inspiration. The "news" was reported as fact by several print and electronic outlets, providing the groups underlying point about media unreliability.
Two years later, the Bay Area-originated group released a single featuring chopped-up and rearranged bits of U2's "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" mixed with purloined outtakes of an expletive-laced rant by radio and TV personality Casey Kasem. That spurred legal action by both U2's label, Island Records, and Kasem, while also putting the group front and center in the debate over copyright and fair use issues.
All of it's albums, it's weekly radio show on Berkeley's KPFA-FM and the various publications and projects carried out on the web site www.negativland.com are rife with tape=splicing, topical high jinks and surreal satire that incisively stand pop and corporate cultures on their heads with equal parts Stockhausen, Chomsky and Firesign Theatre.
So, when Negativland started showing friends and fans its latest project, a book and CD revolving around letters, notes and other written material found in vehicles at a wrecking yard, the group got some puzzled reactions.
"The first friend who saw it said, 'Where's the joke? Where's the hoax?'" says Mark Hosler, one of Negativland's five members. "The joke is that there is no joke."Nor is their any hoax involved. "Deathsentences of the Polished and Structurally Weak," which was released earlier this week on the group's Seeland label, is uncharacteristically straightforward, and quite moving.
In the book, packaged as an auto owner's manual and maintenance log, each found document is shown on a left-hand page, with a photo of the demolished car it came from on the facing page."Dear Daddy, I Love You. Michelle" is scrawled in crayon on a magazine insert card, a rainbow and three red hearts added. On the right-hand page is a red mini-van, its front end smashed and twisted. A young woman's letter to a friend chronicles her tortured life, with the facing page a photo of a car that appears to have been in a brutal head-on collision. Another is a certificate of completion of a drug-and-alcohol rehab program, with the accompanying photo showing the trunk of the car littered with beer cans and bottles.
There's nothing to indicate the fate of the people in the autos, or whether they were the writers or the recipients of the missives, although the states of the cars imply tragedy. The eerie, heartbreaking aura is enhanced by the audio CD, an ambient soundscape that invokes metal impacting metal in slow motion.
Hosler says it was that emotional aspect that drew Negativland to the material, which originated with group member Richard Lyons' trip to a wrecking yard to scavenge car parts. Lyons made 10 or 15 copies of a small book of retained materials and gave them to friends. Two years ago, Ira Glass, host of the pu8blic-radio show "This American Life," heard about it through a mutual friend and asked Lyons to do a spoken essay about his finds. "The reaction to that was so strong, and from people clearly not our normal audience," says Hosler, who now lives in Olympia, Washington. "And that made us think, 'Wow, this is good. It's evoking a wide range of reactions, seems to be really compelling. Maybe we should expand it into a real project."
Initially the group approached it much as it had in such works as the 12997 album "Dispepsi," which tacked the topic of advertising with both audio and cover graphics taken from or parodying PepsiCo campaigns. But the usual approach proved inappropriate for "Deathsentences."
"We kept doing the things we do in other Negativland projects - add funny stuff and layers and layers of explanations," says Hosler. "And everything we tried didn't work. And the more we worked on it, the answer became, "Get Negativland out of the way and let it speak for itself.'"
The change in tactics tined out to be particularly satisfying, given that the groups' collage style has lost some of its novel edge over the years, becoming commonplace both in professional media and among the public with cut-and-paste techniques accessible to anyone with a computer.
Increasingly, what the members of Negativland find themselves speaking for are the copyright issues implicitly challenged by their work. They've become the center of a community of artists working with sound collage for similar aims, including Canadian "Plunderphonics" artist John Oswald, the group The Tape Beatles and English DJ Vicki Bennett (a.k.a. People Like Us). They are also in demand in academic and legal circles as experts on intellectual property matters. Hosler says he actually makes most of his income now as an invited speaker at symposiums and seminars. "Issues of fair use, what is property, what is culture and who owns it have become a lively debate since the arrival of Napster," likening Negativland's activities in the field to the tactics of the environmental militants in Earth First!
"Negativland is more interested in staying on the outside and lobbing our little mind bombs over the fence. Even though we are clearly associated with the issues, I don't want to turn into a lobbyist. We don't want to go to that world and stay there - partly because it's more fun out here."
-Steve Hochman
BLENDER, November 2002Sound collagists who enraged U2 find metal machine music in car graveyards -
Best known for their inflammatory 1991 cover of "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For," which earned them a copyright-infringement lawsuit from U2's label, Negativland have been pranking the entertainment industry for two decades. But "Deathsentences," cleverly packaged to resemble a car manual, is less tunefully clever than deadly serious. A book of photographs portrays wrecked cars beside the various love letters, hate letters, shopping lists and other documents Negativland's Richard Lyons found in them. The accompanying CD is itself a kind of a car crash. Filtered, processed, shredded and pasted, the album's dozen instrumental tracks, including "Born to Loose" and "Hot & Ready," are titled after tunes on a mix tape found in one of the wrecked cars. Negativland's chugging cacophony seems a fitting and grisly tribute to human road kill.
- Richard Gehr
STOP SMILING, Issue 13 2003
Negativland's affinity for automobiles stretches back all the way to all of "A Big 10-8 Place" (1983), to tracks like "Car Bomb" ("Escape From Noise," 1987) and Cityman" ("Free," 1993) to later reaffirm it. 1985/1995's "The Starting Line," culled from broadcasts of the group's weekly radio show Over The Edge, focused almost exclusively on our (fucked up?/insane?) relationship to our autos. "Deathsentences of the Polished and Structurally Weak" is an extension along this conceptual vector, albeit offering a more delayed impact (with more room for your own construct of what it all means) than usual for a Negativland creation.
One of the reasons Negativland rules is their admirable ability to appropriate and subvert various distinct styles and media to their own message. The idea that these guys would put out a thought-provoking, multi-tiered conceptual art piece is not exactly a shocker. That being said, "Deathsentences of the Polished and Structurally Weak" is clearly a veer toward revealing a more contemplative side to a group better known for its blazing (and mostly hilarious) anti-corporate/copyright expressions like "Dispepsi" and the notorious single "U2."
Essentially "Deathsentences of the Polished and Structurally Weak" can be broken down into the visual vs. the aural. A full color 64-page book presents grim junkyard photos of wrecked cars juxtaposed with the notes, lists, letters, and other random bits of paper and text found inside them (a process known as "scrapping"). These are as surreally apt and bizarre as you'd expect from old pros like Negativland to discover, and the attention to detail in the transcriptions is cool. The book's CD companion is 45 minutes of Negativland's patented "non-music" - a specifically created "ever shifting electro-acoustic soundscape" component of the "Deathsentences" multi-level experience.
"Deathsentences of the Polished and Structurally Weak" is solid and nifty in a manner we've come to expect from Negativland. The design is dead-on - especially the large die-cut silver automotive courtesy envelope (complete with blank intersection map, accident report, and space for noting the badge number of "Law Officer Present") that holds the book and CD. It's the kind of thing you remember seeing in the glove compartment of your mom and dads' car, and vaguely connected it with insurance or the DMV or something.
Negativland is incapable of staying to far from it's own classic collage style, and that's a relief. "Deathsentences of the Polished and Structurally Weak" is a breakout think-a-long. The format may seem a little unfamiliar, the goods might look a wee bit slicker, but the end result is purely Negativ.
- Joe Collier
CMJ NEW MUSIC MONTHLY, September 2002Weird Record of the Week - Appetite for Destruction
To put Negativland in the Weird Record section is almost redundant: constantly sued, always infringing and never normal, every one of their records belongs under that heading. They've upped the ante with
"Deathsentences of the Polished and Structurally Weak" (Seeland), a multimedia project focusing on the disturbing beauty of car crashes. The CD is 45 minute of unlistenable noise with nary a melody nor beat to be found. But "Deathsentences" beauty is in its presentation: the bankruptcy inducing package includes a lavish, glossy 64 page book (full of photos of deceased autos and transcriptions of grammar-defying letters found within) and a die-cut accident report envelope, where you can record the details of the gory accidents you'll surely have while listing to this jarring disc. - Ian Sims
Splendid e-zine, September 19, 2002
Here's a switch -- a Negativland album in which the music itself isn't the primary attraction. Deathsentences' series of white-noise sculptures -- described as the sound of the multi-media collective's studio being destroyed in a car crash -- is certainly interesting, but the materials that accompany it will have a far more lasting effect upon your consciousness.
The materials come packaged in a custom-printed automotive "courtesy envelope" -- one of those big, fancy, foldery-type things that holds your new car manual, warranty papers and so forth, painstakingly designed and die-cut to be exactly half an inch wider than your car's glove compartment. So committed is Negativland to the whole automotive illusion that they play it absolutely straight; the outside of the folder realistically mirrors a real owner's manual sleeve, complete with repair records and an accident information form, all devoid of references to Mertz, the Universal Media Netweb or the characters that populate the group's extended alternate universe. It's a wise move. Deathsentences is disturbing because of its unflinching connection to reality, and typical Negativland shtick would only dilute its intensity.
The "meat" of the project is the 64-page booklet that accompanies the disc. Like Damien Jurado's Postcards and Audio Letters it's a voyeuristic document, an outgrowth of Negativland member Richard Lyons's fascination with correspondence found in wrecked cars. Lyons's discovery, in a junkyard, of a car he had once owned, filled with the intimate but anonymous writings of subsequent owners, inspired extensive thought. Who were these people? How had they come to use the car? And given the state of the car when Lyons found it in the junkyard -- cut apart by the jaws of life -- what had become of them?
Other vehicles in the junkyard spun similar tales, yielding love notes, party invites, unpaid bills and other artifacts of their faceless former owners. Lyons was obsessed. He and his Negativland cronies spent several years combing through wrecked automobiles, retrieving and transcribing their literary treasures and photographing the twisted, often-skeletal vehicular remains to provide a "context" for their discoveries. The Deathsentences booklet contains the "best" of their discoveries.
Some of the "found" writings are innocuous: grocery lists, an embarrassing Christmas party invitation, a very detailed job application letter. A few are amusing: there's a page of math homework that scored a "100", but suggests that the owner should pay a lot more attention in English class; a certificate of achievement from a community Alcohol and Drug Center, found in a car trunk littered with empty beer bottles and cans. Some of the longer pieces give you a good idea of their writers' lives -- notes passed between girlfriends attempt to patch up trivial feuds, while other notes detail their writers' attempts to sustain or terminate long-distance relationships, some of which seem to have been enforced by incarceration or military service. If you're a spelling/grammar/usage nut like me, many of these notes will give you little hope for the future of the English language.
A few are genuinely disturbing. A cheery "Dear Daddy, I love you" note, written on a business reply card, is accompanied by a photo of a minivan mangled in a head-on collision in which the driver's head clearly hit the windshield. You'll wonder what happened to this family. Who was behind the wheel? Does Michelle, the note-writer, still have a daddy? Another note, accompanied by an ultrasound image of a fetus, is a kiss-off to one "Joe", who has apparently developed cold feet since impregnating his (presumably very young) girlfriend. "Vigina (sic) siad (in the interest of not cluttering the narrative, future 'sics' are implied) you don't want to talk to me so we are thru with each other and I am getting a borchen," writes Sandra Mathers. "I don't want your baby so leave me a lone." It's clearly force of habit that makes her sign the note, "Love, Sandy".
Another girl, presumably a little older, tells a potential paramour of her recent miscarriage. "I am kinda glad I lost it," she says, "since I wasn't in love with the guy. I told him I was pregnant and he really seemed like he didn't care. Thats O.K. I didn't love the guy!! He was hooked on C.R. and the baby proble would of came out mental!!" If you're not profoundly disturbed the writer's casual indifference to sex, drug addiction and her lost baby, there's probably something just as wrong with you. Combined with a photo of a little red car crushed beyond recognition, it's chilling. What the hell happened here?
To be fair, Lyons and his cohorts aren't attempting to assemble a moral commentary; there's no suggestion that premarital sex and teen pregnancy leads to car accidents and death, or any other nonsense. These photos and documents are simply a reminder that the things we build -- whether we're talking about cars or bodies or lives -- break. Our magnificent constructions decay and collapse, and our lives, divorced of context, endure only as meaningless information.
The CD that accompanies these images takes its name from a tape cassette found in a trashed AMC Concord (except for the final track, "When They Ring The Golden Bells", named for a piece of sheet music scavenged from a particularly badly-damaged vehicle). The disc's twelve compositions are ever-shifting collages of found sounds and voices, white noise, industrial clattering, assorted processed tones and unidentified menacing throbbing sounds. It's unusually vague stuff by Negativland standards -- more like Throbbing Gristle material, really -- but a suitably unreal and uneasy soundscape to accompany the book's images. The constantly-changing wash of sounds is interesting without being particularly abrasive; listeners accustomed to darker electro-acoustic and industrial/experimental material will find it to be pretty much par for the course.
The book, on the other hand, will give you nightmares if you think too hard about it. Plan on taking public transportation for a while after you've read it. -- George Zahora
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