There are many things that I should probably do in an introductory post, like introduce myself, talk about New Zealand’s music scene, make grand statements about my plans, et cetera. But I’m disinclined to do so, because tonight is Devil’s Night.
Those of you who, unlike me, didn’t grow up in or near Detroit, Michigan may have never heard of Devil’s Night. Perhaps your municipalities don’t have the quaint tradition of mass arson every October 30th. As in: 800 arsons at its height, about twenty years ago. I remember the sense of civic triumph the year that less than 100 fires were lit on Devil’s Night. When you’re from Detroit, these sorts of things are what you take civic pride in.
Devil’s Night turns my mind to thoughts of Roky Erickson, not because of any Detroit connection but because – well, because the man was bloody obsessed with the devil. I’d imagine most of you at this stage have heard the 13th Floor Elevators (even if you don’t know it – for instance, the movie version of HIGH FIDELITY kicks off with their version of “You’re Gonna Miss Me”), but his solo career has been much less celebrated for any number of reasons. As in: years spent in institutions, electro-shock ‘therapy’, and an increasing obsession with Mr. Lucifer.
The excellent film YOU’RE GONNA MISS ME, which played at the New Zealand International Film Festival this year, chronicles the life and times of Roky better than I can in this short of space, and I highly recommend it if it comes to your area. What I can do, I hope, is convince you that your record collection is lacking if you don’t have some Roky Erickson. Unfortunately, thanks to the sorts of complications that ensue when you’re a popular and mentally unstable musician, his discography is a clustered thicket of half-assed recordings at the height of his instability, unofficial reissues from which he won’t get a cent, et cetera.
My one-stop Roky Erickson solution is also called YOU’RE GONNA MISS ME, and while it’s out of print, it’s a reasonably comprehensive collection of his solo career highlights. (Apparently, there’s a newer double CD anthology, I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN HERE BEFORE, which also includes some of his Elevators work.) As befits a mentally ill musician, it’s schizophrenic, from achingly sentimental rock love songs (“Nothing in Return”, “Starry Eyes”) to horror-movie inspired rambles (“Creature With The Atom Brain” and “I Walked With A Zombie”, the latter an egregious omission on the newer anthology) to wild-eyed screaming rock (“Two-Headed Dog” and “Bermuda”, which has an outright scary closing vocal delivery – Roky Erickson can scream like no man alive.
But the scariest song, the sound of staring calmly at the ceiling while the city around you burns, is the deceptively placid, even beautiful “I Have Always Been Here Before”. I’ve listened to this song 500 times if I’ve heard it once, I even named a short film I made after it, and I’m still not closer to figuring out what it means than after a first listen, even though it makes perfect sense. It’s just Roky singing and either one or two acoustic guitars, and he’s singing with a quiet determination completely unlike the scream on his rock songs, and his lyrics ramble about Stonehenge and Lucifer’s temples and squeeze in lines like “that which was supposed to have frightened you, but somehow you never took to fright”.
Maybe that’s what scares me – the resignation of the song that’s revealed in that line, the perpetual past tense, the absolute weariness. This is the sound of a man who has fought with his devils and lost. He can’t even be scared any more, because being scared doesn’t make sense when you have looked your devils in the eye and have taken the worst they have to offer. What’s left to fear?
Other than experiencing it again. And again. And again.
For those who’d like to experience it yourself, I recommend dropping by the MP3 blog Buddyhead and downloading “Before” and two other Roky tracks there, including a downright terrifying version of “Heroin”. I never believed Lou Reed when he said “I’m going to try to nullify my own life”, but when Roky sings it … oh dear god.
And everyone in Detroit: have a safe Devil’s Night.
