Live Skull: "Fort Belvedere", from the LP Cloud One, 1986 Homestead Records
"Raise The Manifestation", from the live LP Don't Get Any On You, 1987 Homestead Records
"Kream", from the LP Dusted, 1987 Homestead Records
"Step", from the EP, Snuffer, 1988 Caroline Records
"Demon Rail", from the LP Positraction, 1989 Caroline Records
Live Skull were part of the mid 80's noise movement that crawled out of New York's lower east side, musically sandwiched between the brutal thud of the Swans and the avant art-noise of Sonic Youth. They fit well with their contemporaries, combining abrasive and unfriendly lyrics with such confrontational topic matter such as abusive relationships with a dual guitar din interspersed with haunting quieter passages. And their sound had much more of a rock feel to it. Like the middle child of a nuclear family, they kept a low profile and were often overlooked, if not completely disregarded due to the comparisons to the above-mentioned bands. Such was the curse of comparing one great band with two bands who served as pillars of a regionally and aurally specific music scene.
I recall at some point they had played a show with Savage Republic in Iowa City around 1987, right before I had moved there to attend school. The performance was legendary; I was told by several people on different occasions about their appearance, and each of them highly recommended the band to me. I ended up finding their live release, "Don't Get Any On You" the following year at a used record store under dubious circumstances. The record remained on my turntable for the entire summer of 1989 and was played loudly often. It wasn't a difficult listening experience. The band rocked hard, behind a wall of sound, with vocal duties being traded off between guitarist Marc C. and bassist Marnie Greenholz.(Oh, and I always though she was cute too) The music therin was dark and unsettling, of course, but at the same time vaguely comforting in its own artsy - rock out way.
In late summer 1989, I had the fortune to see them perform at the Cubby Bear in Chicago. By then, the lineup had changed; Percussionist James Lo had been replaced. I use the term percussionist, because he was far more than just a drummer. Check out the fills on "Fort Belvedere", a biographical number about an acid trip in the hills of Florence, Italy. Marnie had left the band and vocal duties had been pretty much taken over by one Thalia Zedek. A new bassist had been added to the lineup as well. Upon seeing Ms. Zedek on the stage, I wasn't sure what to expect. She was short, probably 5'1", and had a very edgy air about her. I would have thought that the band's signature guitar barrage would have washed her vocals out, but she was a force unto herself. Even when singing a couple of tunes that Mark C. usually did vocals on, she took ownership of them and reenforced to the audience that she was a very integral part of this group, and not just a fill-in. While I was completely floored by the entire performance, there was definitely a vibe of tension that I couldn't ignore. Something was amiss, but I couldn't put my finger on it; it wasn't just inter-band stress. After the show had ended, my girlfriend and I were outside the bar and overheard a bit of conversation from her and the band: she was looking to cop some smack, and wanted to get out of there fast. Not long after this show, Live Skull broke up for good. Whether or not it was the only reason, I'm sure the evil that heroin is was partially to blame.
Luckily for the music world, Thalia did manage to clean up several years later and formed the band, Come, and more recently has released several solo efforts of her trademark somber blues and folk (for lack of a better word) balladry. . And sure enough there was a very bleak time in my life where Come's first record, "Eleven Eleven" had a profound effect on me. But that's a whole other story.
The entire catalog of Live Skull is currently out of print, but most titles can be found used at reasonable (read: non-collector scum) prices.
