Adam Ritchie and his band inside the DMZSteve Schmidt and Link Smith skating in DMZ parking lotSteve Schmidt, somewhere between the heights and downtownGrove Circle Punx - Andy Conrad, Utrillo, Bryan Spinas, Matthew Thompson, Jason White, Josh Bentley (92) |
The Fakir Experience plays its first and last show
 Lincoln Smith // I had met Richard Matson and others at Catherine McRae's palatial residence one night by the pool. Catherine was my really close, female friend whom I secretly wanted to have my children and name at least one of them "Duncan." I had already finished my Freshman year at Bennington and I was back for the Summer, living with Jim Thompson and Chip King. Chip was already neck-deep in his fanzine, Jim had "G" going on. We would screen print t-shirts at the place and go dumpster-diving behind photomats for impromptu, late-night, group art projects... but I felt like I needed to do something that was my own.
That year I had witnessed a musical performance by a quartet consisting of saxophonists Charles Gayle and Hugh Glover with bassist William Parker and drummer Milford Graves who was a professor of mine at Bennington College. This was my first exposure to "free jazz" and I had become an ardent disciple, not only in terms of aesthetics, but also as a catalyst for social change. Jim had an alto-saxophone stashed in his closet and I was noodling away at it, trying to get a feel for the fingerings and such since it was the ... (More)I had met Richard Matson and others at Catherine McRae's palatial residence one night by the pool. Catherine was my really close, female friend whom I secretly wanted to have my children and name at least one of them "Duncan." I had already finished my Freshman year at Bennington and I was back for the Summer, living with Jim Thompson and Chip King. Chip was already neck-deep in his fanzine, Jim had "G" going on. We would screen print t-shirts at the place and go dumpster-diving behind photomats for impromptu, late-night, group art projects... but I felt like I needed to do something that was my own.
That year I had witnessed a musical performance by a quartet consisting of saxophonists Charles Gayle and Hugh Glover with bassist William Parker and drummer Milford Graves who was a professor of mine at Bennington College. This was my first exposure to "free jazz" and I had become an ardent disciple, not only in terms of aesthetics, but also as a catalyst for social change. Jim had an alto-saxophone stashed in his closet and I was noodling away at it, trying to get a feel for the fingerings and such since it was the only instrument to which I had regular access.
Another major influence on my thinking at the time was D.C. band, The Nation of Ulysses, whom I had seen perform once with Bikini Kill and Born Against. N.O.U., besides being an incredible band, postured themselves in the manner of underground "freedom fighters", modeled after the Black Panther Party or the Symbionese Liberation Army. The liner notes to their LP recording, "13 Point Plan to Destroy America" was a stream-of-conscious, political manifesto and at the time I was all about "smashing the system", but I really wanted to do it with elegance and style.
Richard, myself and a few others got into a discussion about music and my enthusiasm for improvisation as a collective effort was difficult to contain. I did use the term "wall of sound", without knowing anything of Phil Spector's concept, but more of trying to convey the inertia in the music of Ornette Coleman and Albert Ayler.
I believe one or two "rehearsals" took place in the attic at Kewl's house. Mainly it was to get everyone comfortable with the idea of playing with no metric rhythm or time signature and no preconceived course of action. This kind of playing would also prove to be physically exhausting and required a great deal of stamina. It was quite clear that what we lacked in ability, we made-up for in enthusiasm. Also, the idea was to break every last rule you could think of -- non-musicians making music, at times with non-instruments, like a television set getting smashed. The gesture was symbolic, but it also made a great sound when you smashed it. And you could only do it once, so it had to be at a point when it mattered most. John Pugh was always a man who displayed impeccable timing. Whatever it was, it was certainly NOT about meeting girls or courting the flattery of an audience. As far as me and others were concerned, we were there to wake everyone up from the psychological nap of their own lives. Guile was obviously never in short supply.
Excited about the project, I typed up a complete manifesto for the group in my boxers while smoking cigars and listening to John Coltrane records all night, my apologies to Chip and Jim for having to suffer through that. The manifesto did contain material from medical journals and such. It also "presented" our method, philosophy and goals as a collective. We ran off copies on the Xerox machine located right there at the warehouse where our "show" (singular!) took place. The warehouse in question was some sort of business belonging to Drew Harrison's dad. He had caught a glimpse of one of the pages being reproduced on HIS machine and was no at all enthused. He seemed even less enthused when we played. I do recall Mr. Harrison giving the cut-it-off sign and I did take a moment to laugh at him, thinking, "Um... you're THAT kid's Dad, not mine." Poor Drew. Someone forgot to inform him that those who dare are almost always an utter disappointment to their parents for it. Life lessons.
I recall the audience being a handful of teenagers who probably would have bled milk had you cut them deeply enough... and THAT ONE GUY whom I had recognized "from around" with a shaved head, gritting his teeth and nodding his head furiously with an expression of utter FUCK-YEAH!!!-NESS... he may have been our greatest fan.
If any other shows took place under the FAKIR marque, I was neither a participant nor a proponent beyond what I've already described.
And I had briefly dated Sassy Magazine's 1st Sassiest Girl in America... her name was Rinnan Henderson and she was from Missoula,
Montana. (Less)  John Pugh // I smashed a television set at Fakir Experience's first (last?) show. It was a performative symbol of our intrinsic desire to liberate the psyche individually/collectively from the death-grip of imperialist media. Also it was fun.Richard Matson // As I remember, the original line-up of Fakir was Cory Walker on bass (playing through one of those tiny gorilla guitar amps), Alice Brierly on the elfin flute and me on guitar (probably playing through an even smaller amp). I think the original idea was to be a sea-chanty band or something like that. Cory, Alice and I were in 10th grade and were fascinated when we ran into Link Smith, a stand-up bass major at Bennington, who came up with this "wall of sound" idea. We had no idea he was borrowing the concept from Phil Spector. Cory and I were also fascinated by his stories about dating the first Sassiest Girl in American. I'm not sure why Link felt inclined to join up with our non-band, but when he did, he took it over completely. We quickly saw the ranks swell from 3 to 13 people. Two drummers, Link on sax, I was playing trombone. At the warehouse show Cory mentions, most of the people on stage had never heard of or practiced with the band (our "practices" were more theoretical raving than music playing which was fitting because the band had much bigger ideas than musical talent). ... (More)As I remember, the original line-up of Fakir was Cory Walker on bass (playing through one of those tiny gorilla guitar amps), Alice Brierly on the elfin flute and me on guitar (probably playing through an even smaller amp). I think the original idea was to be a sea-chanty band or something like that. Cory, Alice and I were in 10th grade and were fascinated when we ran into Link Smith, a stand-up bass major at Bennington, who came up with this "wall of sound" idea. We had no idea he was borrowing the concept from Phil Spector. Cory and I were also fascinated by his stories about dating the first Sassiest Girl in American. I'm not sure why Link felt inclined to join up with our non-band, but when he did, he took it over completely. We quickly saw the ranks swell from 3 to 13 people. Two drummers, Link on sax, I was playing trombone. At the warehouse show Cory mentions, most of the people on stage had never heard of or practiced with the band (our "practices" were more theoretical raving than music playing which was fitting because the band had much bigger ideas than musical talent). Right before the cops showed up to shut the show down, Chip King very hesitantly smashed a television. I thought that was a major triumph. Poor Drew Harrison, who'd set up the show and who's band Key Lime Pie was supposed to headline, never got to play. I remember Drew's day making a "cut it off" motion with his hand and Link pausing his sax riffs for a moment to laugh at him.
Link's father was a gynecologist and he'd put together a manifesto booklet espousing Fakir's ideology replete with surgical diagrams culled from his dad's books. The rest of us were pretty embarrassed by it. I went to spend my junior year in Hungary and was insulted when I heard that Fakir, with Link at the helm, had played another few shows without any of the original members. (Less) Cory Walker // In 10th grade, Richard Matson and Cory Walker really liked to skip class and do crazy things with their minds. Favorite activities included jumping the dip at the bottom of Pine Street in Alice Brierly's Silverado and basketball. On one of these days Richard and Cory decided to start a free form noise combo to pay tribute to Fakir Musafar, the guy in the Modern Primitives book who liked to hang himself by hooks through his nipples and whatnot. It wasn't until free jazz theoretician Link Smith arrived from back East that the Fakir Experience had the momentum it needed. Several obliging friends agreed to assemble and improvise noise-making objects (metal drum, guitar played with electric razor, etc). Hapless Drew Harrison, who was a few years younger, hooked Fakir up with a Pleasant Valley warehouse loading platform to play on, likely thinking the group would be a Trusty-esque rhythm combo and that girls would therefore like him for putting on the show. When the, uh, noise assault started, however, the crowd of mostly 15 year olds looked as if someone had just unleashed an very egregious fart. Some members of Fakir seemed to smell it as well. The show lasted ... (More)In 10th grade, Richard Matson and Cory Walker really liked to skip class and do crazy things with their minds. Favorite activities included jumping the dip at the bottom of Pine Street in Alice Brierly's Silverado and basketball. On one of these days Richard and Cory decided to start a free form noise combo to pay tribute to Fakir Musafar, the guy in the Modern Primitives book who liked to hang himself by hooks through his nipples and whatnot. It wasn't until free jazz theoretician Link Smith arrived from back East that the Fakir Experience had the momentum it needed. Several obliging friends agreed to assemble and improvise noise-making objects (metal drum, guitar played with electric razor, etc). Hapless Drew Harrison, who was a few years younger, hooked Fakir up with a Pleasant Valley warehouse loading platform to play on, likely thinking the group would be a Trusty-esque rhythm combo and that girls would therefore like him for putting on the show. When the, uh, noise assault started, however, the crowd of mostly 15 year olds looked as if someone had just unleashed an very egregious fart. Some members of Fakir seemed to smell it as well. The show lasted all of 15 minutes. 15 minutes was all it took for a noise scene to live and die. Heavy. (Less) 
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Cory Walker
The Fakir Experience
