Suicide

33⅓ Main Series #149

by Andi Coulter

New York City in the 1970s was an urban destitute, dirty, and dangerous. As the country collectively turned its back on the Big Apple, two musical vigilantes rose out of the miasma. Armed only with amplified AC current, Suicide's Alan Vega and Marty Rev set out to save America's soul. Their weaponized noise terrorized unsuspecting audiences. Suicide could start a riot on a lack of guitar alone. Those who braved their live shows often fled in fear--or formed bands (sometimes both). This book attempts to give the reader a front-row seat to a Suicide show. Suicide is one of the most original, most misunderstood, and most influential bands of the last century. While Suicide has always had a dedicated cult following, the band is still relatively unknown outside their musical coterie. Arguing against the idea of the band's niche musical history, this book looks at parallels between Marvel Comics' antiheroes in the 1970s and Suicide's groundbreaking first album. Andi Coulter tells the origin story of two musical Ghost Riders learning to harness their sonic superpower, using noise like a clarion call for a better future.

Genres: Music, New York, American, 21st Century, 20th Century

153 pages, Kindle Edition

First published September 3, 2020

Reviews

[Alexander Peterhans · Rating 3 out of 5]

Suicide's Suicide isn't really about Suicide, but about Suicide. Coulter tells Suicide's story in a novelised form, thinking this will make their story more approachable to someone new to the band. But what kind of person picks up a book called Suicide's Suicide, but someone who likes the band already, and isn't afraid of a bit of complexity?

I kept wondering which bits and details are "true", which parts are fantasy, all of which is quite boring and more than a bit distracting. The book isn't a bad band history, but I am left wondering who this is for.

(Received an ARC through NetGalley)

[Tosh · Rating 4 out of 5]

A superb study on the band (or duo) Suicide. Through Andi Coulter's language, I can feel that I'm at a Suicide gig. Rarely do I get that type of feeling through a writer's skill in writing.

Kimley and I talk about this book on our podcast: Book Musik Podcast

[Alex Sarll]

"The sky erupted in light, then turned entirely black. This is the story of a city in darkness." Yeah, there are some readers who will find this one overblown, but I was never much for the school of music writing that didn't risk getting at least a little silly. Andi Coulter's basic premise is that there's already a solid Suicide bio available and that, with one of the band now having passed on (albeit much later and less dramatically than early audiences would have expected), a straight factual account would be at once impertinent and superfluous, so this is more a loose fictionalisation. How loose? Someone who knows the official story better would be able to tell you more surely than I can, though I read it as taking liberties in ascribing feelings and incidental details, rather than going freeform with the known facts. How did it feel to be the nascent Suicide, or to watch them? That's where Coulter's interest seems most focused. Which is not to say there isn't factual research here too, like falsifying the oft-repeated story that the duo took their name from a Ghost Rider story called Satan Suicide – not the toughest detective gig ever given there wasn't one, and the band made their debut before the character, but one nobody else seems to have troubled themselves to undertake. Still, there is a strand running through this where Rev and Vega's story is paralleled with Johnny Blaze's. It's hardly a stretch when he's the subject of one of their 'hits', in the loosest possible sense, and there's certainly something to the idea of a link between the way the 1970s saw rock darkening into punk, and Marvel's heroes likewise darkening into antiheroes, both in turn mirroring New York's notorious period of bankruptcy and decay: it makes sense that you'd get a band called Suicide singing about a blazing skeleton in a city that's been told to drop dead. Still, for all that this is a sound angle, underpinned by a clear engagement with the topic, it's undermined by a reference to 'Spiderman', just as the artier side of the equation is let down when 'Anton Artaud' or 'Alan Ginsberg' makes an appearance. As for the use of 'prolix' in a context where 'prologue' is needed, ouch. Charitably, one could note that I read this as a Netgalley ARC, and these typos might be fixed in the final edition, though I'm still not sure what the sentence "They were certainly one of the most musical cult bands around" is trying to do – jazz background or not, I could more readily accept that 'they were certainly one of the most cult musical bands around', or even, given the sonic onslaught, 'they were certainly one of the least musical cult bands around'. As is, if that original meaning was intended, it could have done with some selling. But then that's the risk of ambitious music writing; it will always risk falling flat on its face, and there's bravery in that. And I like that the book isn't some veteran Bangs wannabe (even if it does rate him a little high for my taste), but comes from the perspective of a new-ish fan who wants to make more new fans, someone who came to their revival via the era of Fischerspooner and the Faint. Ultimately I was surprised how much I came to agree with the central argument: "Suicide aren't harbingers of death but instead are possessed by the burning will to live."

I still feel a bit concerned about the section written from the point of view of Bobby Gillespie, mind. Books told from the perspective of murderers, torturers or paedophiles are one thing, but surely there are some limits?

[manu · Rating 2 out of 5]

boy oh boy,, i had high hopes for this one based off the first chapter and the approach the author claims they would take in telling the story of this album. unfortunately fell super flat and even if a lot of the events truly did happen, this book reads like fanfiction (no hate to fanfiction, i love reading it,,,, but the reader was definitely promised something that was not fanfiction. or so i thought....?). editor was clearly M.I.A, but i won't go into that since almost all the other reviews already have

ETA: the random name dropping (JUSTICE FOR ANYA PHILLIPS) and the CBGB hate... what was up with that. any time CBGB was brought up, and it was brought up a lot and without any substance, it was always (this is definitely a paraphrase) "so-and-so did xyz at CBGB,, ugh blegh massive eyeroll. they thought they were punk but they were absolutely not" like what the hell was the reason..? just very odd,,,

[Robert · Rating 3 out of 5]

Suicide's debut is an album that I was obsessed with as it sounded so unique: a bare bones electronic album with lyrics documenting socially fragmented New York. If anything this would be the ideal record to get a 33 1/3 treatment.

Andi Coulter's angle is, bar some factual bits in the beginning and end, is to structure the book like a story. We've got the background to Suicide's team up, the New York music scene of the seventies and the making of the album and it's influence.

To be honest I don't think it works entirely. I did learn new things but I think something a bit more academic would have been better.

[J Earl · Rating 5 out of 5]

Suicide's Suicide, from Andi Coulter, is another strong volume in the 33 1/3 series from Bloomsbury Academic. The strength of the series is that each contributor is given a lot of space to decide how to approach their album of choice, and Coulter's approach works very well.

I like to let readers know the extent of my "fanhood" when I review a book about an artist or performer, so... I am familiar with Suicide but never saw a show. When I lived in NYC in the 80s for a time I heard a lot about their shows so I understood that what I experienced with their album was just a small part of their appeal. I would likely sum up my stance, before reading this book, as someone who enjoyed listening to them when I was in the right mood but wasn't really a fan.

This book, coupled with listening to some of their stuff again, has made me more appreciative of their work, both as Suicide and their solo work. Though I admit that I probably gravitate more to their second album. This book offers an almost historical approach, giving a history of how they became who they were and the environment within which they did so. This gives a reader a deeper understanding of what they tried to do as well as being just a fun read. The stories and anecdotes throughout both entertain and educate.

Suicide isn't for everyone but I think if you read this book and listen to the album you will gain some appreciation for what they did. You'll also better grasp why they have been so influential. You still may not put their music on often but you will see a lot of other artist's music through different eyes.

Reviewed from a copy made available by the publisher via NetGalley.

[Ross Bonaime · Rating 4 out of 5]

Suicide's self-titled debut album is more of an experience than it is music, in my opinion. I listened to "Suicide" for the first time years ago, and relistening to it earlier this year, I knew I had to brace myself for the aural attack that was headed my way, particularly, the 10-minute horror show that is "Frankie Teardrop". Decades after its release, "Suicide" still sounds unlike anything else out there, despite many imitators, and the album is as exhausting as it is eye-opening.

With the 33 1/3 book series, there are many ways to approach these albums, but for me, the best books contextualize a piece of music for the reader. If you love the album, it's like preaching to the choir. If you don't, the book should show you why you should at least appreciate the album. Andi Coulter does exactly that with "Suicide," envisioning the band's Alan Vega and Martin Rev into almost mythical superheroes, willing to terrify audiences for their art. "Suicide" can often sound like madness to the uninitiated, and Coulter shows that there's a very deliberate method behind it all. For a band that often left audiences running for the exits, Coulter explains why listeners should stand their ground and admire what Suicide was doing with this album.

I personally was familiar with the album going into the book, but wasn't aware of the band's history or where they came from (beyond a quick reference to them in LCD Soundsystem's Losing My Edge"). Coulter does an excellent job of making this the origin story for these superheroes, showing the dedication to the art, and the influence this music would have on decades of artists. Just by simply existing, we can see the impression Suicide left on bands like The Clash, Elvis Costello and the Attractions, Ramones, The Cars, and others. Coulter gives us the history of Suicide in a fairly straightforward way, but in doing so, impresses us with how essential Suicide truly was from the 1970s to today.

33 1/3 books can often be hit-or-miss for me, but "Suicide" is sort of exactly what I want from books in this series. There's just the right amount of context, historical importance, and personal anecdote that makes this probably one of the better 33 1/3 books I've read so far.

[Aaron McQuiston · Rating 4 out of 5]

There has not been a 33 ⅓ book that is not worth the time and effort to read and seek out the album to listen to. All of them are written about important albums in any artist’s career, whether significant to their success or significant to the culture of the time. Andi Coulter’s exploration of Suicide’s self-titled debut album is no exception but actually the strongest example of the reason why 33 ⅓ books should exist.

Not everyone has heard of Suicide, and if you have heard of them, you might not have listened to a single song. However Suicide is considered one of the most influental and important bands of the time. Consisting of Alan Vega on vocals and Martin Rev doing all of the music, the duo really made an impact with their live shows, getting into fights and making people run. They were known for their abrasiveness, and even though everyone says they cleared out any sort of venue, they were still getting booked for gigs and a large group of people say they saw them live. Thurston Moore came from Connecticut into the city to see several bands, but it was Suicide and Alan Vega strangling audience members with his microphone cord that really brought to think about forming Sonic Youth. Henry Rollins counts them as one of the most influential groups of all time and even was the spokesperson for Alan Vega’s family after he died. Suicide might not have a large listenership, but those who do listen love them.

After reading the book and listening to the album a few times, I can say that I agree completely with the importance that Coulter puts on this band and their music. It is something unlike anything I had ever heard before, and even though it is loud, abrasive, and sloppy, it is also hypnotizing. I hope this brings awareness to Suicide’s originality and brings them more listeners.

I received this as an ARC from NetGalley and the publisher in exchange for an honest review.

[Catherine McNulty · Rating 5 out of 5]

NYC, the 70s. As the city teeters on the edge of bankruptcy and the Vietnam War drags on, an obscure no wave band makes nearly impenetrable music. Such is their dedication to sonic chaos, the exits have to be blocked during their shows, lest the audience flee. At the end, most walk away glad the lead singer’s menace never turned to actual violence. Others, minds blown, know that a new aural landscape has been unleashed and there is only one thing to do: make music.

Meet Suicide. Influencing bands and languishing as a cult favorite for nearly 50 years.

But no longer. Author Andi Coulter takes us back to those sleazy, skeezy days when it was still possible to be an artist in New York without a trust fund and Lou Reed skulked around the back of every venue. But this is no nostalgia trip. She inhabits Marty’s and Alan’s story, pulling back the curtain to let us watch, from their first meeting to the apex of their auditory assaults. Diving deep into their influences and personal histories, Coulter reveals that the bleak lyrics and madness inducing musical drones might read as nihilistic but is really born out of hope. Hope that in destruction of every institution and establishment that was betraying and selling out the American people, a new future could be formed. 50 years ago, Suicide knew that to get beyond hell you had to go through it.

Oh yeah, Ghost Rider is leading this particular purgatory-bound parade. Care to join?

[Matthew · Rating 3 out of 5]

Writing a fictional recreation of the early days of Suicide is a good idea but the execution here is mediocre at best. Lots of repetitive, clunky writing with weird asides and remembrances that don't really work within such a narrative. Unfortunately Coulter lacks the descriptive powers to bring '70s New York to life, unlike many of the other works listed in the bibliography at the end. I also like the premise of using the Marvel character of Ghost Rider in parallel to the band's development, however this tactic rang hollow as if the author never actually read the comic (it wasn't listed in the bibliography either). What's even worse is that Coulter calls Superman a Marvel comic, which is obviously wrong. Not all the blame resides with the author, however. A competent editor would have caught the Superman/Marvel comics error immediately. Numerous language usage errors and misspellings abound, and the text could have used another draft or two before publication. Entertaining enough for what it is but could have been so much better.

[Ethan Sleeman · Rating 3 out of 5]

2.5 stars rounded up. I appreciated they were trying for a different take on the 'band origin story', and you can 100% feel the passion for the band in every page. But the editor was Not on duty, and it's not as original/out there as its introductory premise promised. I would have liked the author to lean in to the Ghost Rider Comic - Suicide conceit more deeply. I appreciate the author's efforts to emphasize the live experience, but it didn't really land for me; perhaps an example of how words fail us when it comes to describing the lived experience of performance? I dunno, but in all kinda felt like it was halfway between a 'history of' piece and an abstract 'the band is kinda like' piece that didn't quite get to either.

[Kimley · Rating 4 out of 5]

Tosh and I discuss this on our Book Musik Podcast.

Suicide was a band comprised of Alan Vega on vocals and Martin Rev as the sole multi-instrumentalist. Spawned from the wreckage of 1970s New York, the band never seemed to find a wide audience but those in the know who were lucky enough to have seen them live were the participants in a show that surely would not be forgotten. Typically described as an assault to the senses with a strong vibe of imminent violence, most people didn’t quite know what to make of them. But as so often happens with cult artists, their influence casts a wide net and continues to do so to this day.

[Roberta Spang · Rating 5 out of 5]

The author Andi Coulter has written an engagingly accessible narrative around the esoteric topic of noise music makers originating in the cultural chaos of the 70s. She presents persuasive, well-researched information about a not widely known, genre-launching twosome band, Suicide, formed by ‘wild-man’ vocalist Alan Vega and instrumentalist savant Marty Rev. With literary verve, Coulter pays homage to their innovative musical genius that continued to reverberate in divergent, but related, musical groups of the 21st century.

[Dennis Seese · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read this after reading about the impact "Frankie Teardrop," in particular, had on Bruce Springsteen when he was writing the songs on Nebraska.
The other thing that Springsteen had identified in Alan Vega was someone who has heavily influenced by raw, early rock'n'roll from the 1950s. I was hoping learn more about how Vega used those influences to create Suicide's unorthodox sound/approach.
This wasn't that type of book.
As a DC resident, I like the local connections in the text. I don't, however, think the Ghost Rider analogue works or is developed very well.

[Miles Buckley · Rating 4 out of 5]

Interesting telling of Suicides early career with the use of the ghost rider character, good fun.

[Nathan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Honestly, this is the perfect version. Told almost as a narrative as opposed to the more traditional format used in this series. Every page was gripping you, begging to be turned as you read about Alan and Rev coming to grips with their creativity and going against the expectations. Honestly feels like it would fit right into Please Kill Me...if only.

[Brad · Rating 3 out of 5]

Two-and-a-half stars.

The abrasive, alienating, and highly influential electronic band Suicide is explored here with loose references to the comic book Ghost Rider (as well as a goof-up that Superman is/was a Marvel character). The author pieces together fact, fiction, rumors, and hyperbole to create a story of the band's formation in the late-60's through their still early days in the mid-70's.

Throughout, the author makes some bold claims about the greatness of the band and its influence but, while these are regarded as widespread truth, they are rarely backed up by much argument. As a newer listener who finds the band to be little more than a musically minimalist shock group, I wasn't swayed into believing them particularly brilliant or thought-provoking.

[Kimley · Rating 4 out of 5]

Tosh and I discuss this on our Book Musik Podcast.

Suicide was a band comprised of Alan Vega on vocals and Martin Rev as the sole multi-instrumentalist. Spawned from the wreckage of 1970s New York, the band never seemed to find a wide audience but those in the know who were lucky enough to have seen them live were the participants in a show that surely would not be forgotten. Typically described as an assault to the senses with a strong vibe of imminent violence, most people didn’t quite know what to make of them. But as so often happens with cult artists, their influence casts a wide net and continues to do so to this day.

[Amit Verma · Rating 4 out of 5]

It is book that focuses on music band Suicide.
It is written in an innovative style.
It starts with description of unrest in USA youth and rise of antihero with Stan Lee unleashing Ghost rider and similar stories.
How this antihero affected all
The band which was unconventional is described with focus on biography and cultural impact wthe band.
It is not a simple boring biography but different like the band it describes.
A book for people who love music and revolting music stars.

[James Leon · Rating 5 out of 5]

Having worked in record stores for nearly 20 years, I never read any of these 33 1/3 series books. When this one on Suicide's debut album was released, I wanted to know more about the beginnings of Martin Rev and Alan Vega. It was an informative page turner that made me curious to venture into the "Ghost Rider" comics. Andi Coulter's book is highly recommended for those who may wonder how a two-piece group could leave such an impactful boot print on the origins of punk and inspire others.