Oh these hot summer months when you have to wade through tons of dreck to find a half-decent album that might, just might, have any long-lasting effect on you. This month had been especially barren until July 30 that saw, among a few other things, the release of the second lost album from Alan Vega (the first one, Mutator, was a gem). Otherwise, I would have had to give this July a miss.
There is some significance to the fact that I am reviewing Alan Vega in Odessa. After all, this was the place where a guy I vaguely knew smoked some bad weed (I assume it was bad - the seller was a dodgy-looking Turk who charged too little), looked at me in a badly-lit room of an empty but spacious apartment somewhere in the centre of the city and suggested that I look like the vocalist of Suicide. "Alan Vega?" I asked, surprised. "Yeah, him", he nodded. At which point Luke Haines's "Alan Vega Says" started playing in my head, and did for the rest of the day, to the extent that the bad weed had no effect on me.
Two things are true: I look nothing like Alan Vega and yet I have felt an odd connection with the man ever since that day in Odessa. Which is why a lost album from him was always going to interest me. In a way, the After Dark session recorded a year before Vega's death is a thrilling glimpse into the rock'n'roll heart of this quintessential New York artist.
After Dark happened one night in New York City when Alan Vega and three other musicians recorded six songs with little to no preparations. This was, I understand, the way Vega wanted it to be. The album is part inspired impromptu and part dogged professionalism. Something only New York could produce. The music is rockabilly and space blues and one piece of mystical and beguiling beauty with a strong Lynchian vibe ("Wings of Glory", which I now love as dearly as "Samurai" from Mutator). The lyrics are free-flowing bits of poetry. The mood is mysterious and nocturnal (obviously). And those classic vocals of Alan Vega, of course, passionless and yet strangely moving.
A precious gift, and a fascinating little session. I cannot wait for the nighttime when this album will come alive in all its dark, subdued glory. In the meantime, may Alan Vega's vaults never run dry.
RECOMMENDED THIS MONTH:
Alan Vega - After Dark
LUMP - Animal
Torres - Thirstier
