Kristin Hersh

Kristin Hersh was never called a Masshole

ANYWAY you wanna spin it, Kristin Hersh was never called a Massh*le:

A Titans of Art Throwdown in Three Fahkin’ Pahts


For me, the best way to get any size group of people other than one’s lonely own god-DAMNED self to participate in a thought experiment, research experiment, read one of my long and unnecessarily drawn out articles, blah blah, etc —- lies in the utilization of this three-point formula:

  1. Create your own cliches, but don’t be afraid to play off existing ones. You want others to actually want to know what, how, why you’re saying whatever it is that you are.
  2. Be as arrogant as you want, just make sure and acknowledge what areas you know nothing about.. lampoon yourself —- “it is only in admission of our own mediocrity that we ascend to Greatness.”
  3. Make up intense sh*t like that and add a useless third point that makes you seem like you’re being ‘thorough’.

Then ultimately test your hypothesis and prove or disprove, I guess. Just try and enjoy yourself along the way, who cares what’s true or not?

Boom. I just negated bias.

Anyway.

Let’s conduct a little experiment in three parts and see where it goes. Just to keep it interesting and true to standards and form, I’m adhering to my above-detailed formula.

Part One: Kristin Hersh versus Pablo Picasso

{fig. 1} Picasso

It’s oft-been said that “Pablo Picasso was never called an asshole”.. and this may indeed be true; but if even he was ever called; or even if he actually, truly was an asshole, he was a godDAMNED brilliant asshole —

I mean the guy HAS been doing this stuff since he was what — 

fifteen years old??

Anyway.

Visually brilliant Pablo Picasso aside, the multi-aesthetically and MULTI-brilliant* Kristin Hersh  – has also been doing at least the music part since she was what —

fifteen years old??

{fig. 2} Hersh

Throwing Muses were formed in the Eighties in Southern County Rhode Island with stepsister Tanya Donnelly, bassist Leslie Langston, and lest we forget drummer David Narcizo, who helped define the group’s sound with his signature practically sans-cymbals style.. although it’s quite recently come to my attention the true reason for Narcizo’s signature sound was, in fact, the pasties worn upon his breasts.

Always what goes unseen”, amirite??

Brighton LIve Photography by Greg Neate, www.neatephotos.com

Anyway (again).

1991’s The Real Ramona was for me – as for a many of my friends, as well many “music recording cylinders” aficionados – THE record of the year. Bass player Langston had by then been replaced by musician, philosopher, and holy SH*T what can this guy NOT do, Fred Abong, whom although not in the current Muses’ lineup remains a consistent collaborator of Kristin Hersh’s.

I’ve always been a sucker for a good full bass sound, and Fred Abong his was/is my preferred not too treble; not too muddy – but juuuust right:

“Red Shoes”

And this album was a collaboration in at least individual performances, as well a god-DAMNED timelessly great quality recording yet still I’m taking away the brilliance, creative control, et al., so I’m gonna say —-

ROUND GOES TO HERSH.

Picasso never would’ve collaborated like that — I mean, even the model for the guitar player in this painting done during his “Blue Period” looks bummed out because he wasn’t able to contribute..

The Old Guitarist is a very beautiful painting though.. and currently hangs in the AIC gallery in Chicago. Not too shabby.. so here I’m gonna say —-

ROUND GOES TO PICASSO.

Honorable mention, however, Hersh’s own Sunny Border Blue was/is hella brilliant, as referenced in this review:

fetches some CAKE on Amazon, as well. That’s not too shabby. I’ll leave it for readers to fact-check this, but a word of advice: support artist control over art and keep poking around on her site.. you’re sure to find plenty of cool stuff.*

* Kristin Hersh is an awesome and accomplished author as well:

 Rat Girl is a great read and a favorite music-related, AND overall favorite book of mine.

Again-y-way..

so I’m talking to Kristin about our weirdly/near-psychically similar 1970s upbringings and the awesomeness that’s well, umm… “holy SH*T, Fred Abong” is I think how I put it.. and coincidentally and/or psychically enough, she says:

 “I just got off the phone with Fred Abong after a conversation about the innocence and hubris of the 70’s which, we feel, led to a flourishing of focus and output we have yet to bring about in this decade. But we’re working on it.”

She also says she’s happy that I ‘get’ Fred, as getting Fred Abong is her “litmus test for intelligence.”

AAAND holy SH*T, Fred Abong, that’s not too shabby.. nor is his own music:

I’ve not as of yet read the Stereo Embers review; instead did my own research via the artistically and empirically  accredited “song-by-song on YouTube” method. I’m into this song, personally:

 

Freddyway. 

I kinda wanna play bass on his next recording — maybe the holy SH*T thing would rub off enough for me to finally get around to that philosophy PhD program.

Ehh, maybe not.. I kinda like doing this stuff better than playing bass or being in school: listen to music I like, talk to the people who recorded and performed it, write about it, and hopefully turn people onto it enough for the circle to begin anew. 

That’s not too shabby.

GETMYEGOAWAY.

Recap? It’s oft-been said that Pablo Picasso was never called an asshole, however, he did make quite a career out of creating masterpieces with paintings of people with potatoes for heads, so hey.. if you’re gonna be an asshole, that’s not too shabby a means of justification. 

Kristin Hersh, I sincerely doubt could be an asshole if she tried. And she could do this stuff with a potato for a head..

AAAND I’ve absolutely no idea why I wrote this, nor for that matter what it even means, sooo let’s just call it..

  • wait for it..

“an abstract.”

—- ROUND GOES TO ME.

Part Two: Speaking of Assh*les, New England accents, and Yankee stubbornness

{Fig. 3} Rhode Island

Rhode Island is the fucking arts epicenter of some godamn large clump of God’s Creation and it’s so tiny you either need to be from there or otherwise drawn to being interested in being from there in order to notice. Not like it’s a secret or anything, though.. it’s kinda like Massachusetts’ Canada: really, really fucking awesome and everyone’s welcome with open arms to join the fucking awesomeness, but we’re all such arrogant dickheads [in Massachusetts] it doesn’t even cross our shit-talking minds.

Because really, “why the fahk you wanna go there for anyway?

Say the word just like that: “FAHK.” Blend the letter U into a ‘short A’ and then drag it out like,

{fig. 4} “FAAHHK YOUUU.”

Anyway, the reason we’re all such arrogant dickheads in Massachusetts is because yeah — we actually do really talk like that. And virtually every sentence we speak contains some variation of the word “fuck.” I mean, unless you’re from the western part of the state, which is essentially just upstate New York, or where you go to college before moving back within a seven miles’ radius to wherever the fuck you grew up..

it’s just kind of a huge fucking piss-off whenever we go someplace else and you fucking people remind us that we all fucking talk like that, so we get a little fucking testy – SORRY.. what the fuck?

Anyway I did live in Providence for a long time, took a while to grow into it.. actually it took practically seven fucking years after having moved back within seven miles’ radius of where I fucking grew up to realize how much I miss it.. so when I notice on social media that Rhode Island’s Pablo Picasso – to me, at least*, Kristin Hersh – has a new release and accompanying tour, I’m onto this straight fucking up; right fucking on, and right fucking away.

Well, actually a full seven or eight months’ to when it was fucking released, because I SUCK.

SORRY.. what the fuck? I’m just tryna get people to listen to some stuff I like, yeah? Really.. you like apples? Well, I do too. Who fucking cares —-

They’re all over the place up here in the Fall..

 

That’s “No Shade in Shadow,” which although clearly not being about apples; nor Massachusetts, nor about Rhode Island, nor anyplace in New England for that matter; was the first song that grabbed me on Possible Dust Clouds by Kristin Hersh, which was released in October, 2018 on Fire Records.

 

AAAND it’s really, really FAHKIN’ AWESOME.

I hadn’t been following Kristin in awhile, mostly because I’m still traumatized by leaving Rhode Island for the second time in my life – at least that I can remember, anyway…

According to my parents, I was conceived in an airport hangar on a naval base in the southern part of the state before my mother had me in Boston.. and I really didn’t set foot in Little Canada save a show here and there again until the universe likely decided I needed it..

And one little neighborhood on the East Side of Providence I lived in for quite some time just happens to be the title of the second track from Possible Dust Clouds:

“Fox Point.”

 

“The chord choices on this song are so awesomely haunting in how they compliment her equally awesomely haunting voice.. “

Try and envision this in your mind’s ear as being said in an accent sort of  like this:

 

Sorry for the tangent.. sometimes I just get carried away when I’m real into someone’s art and before I can get a handle on it I’m talking eight miles a minute and forget about the fucking letter R and I’M SORRY.

What the fuck? I really am sorry – do you like apples? Well, how about I pick you a nice heirloom from someone’s yard in my neighborhood because it’s nearly that time of year when they’re all over the fucking place here. But I mean hey, same goes for Rhode Island — we’re not all that different, really..

ANYFUCKINGWAY.

Precisely what in the anyway f*ck does one ask an artist who’s to me the single most influential figure in entertainment of hers and my time?

EASYWAY —-

the single most influential question in entertainment journalism of our time, as given to the single most influential figure in film entertainment of HER time by the single most influential and entertaining figure in journalism of ALL time; of course being Barbara Walters, its recipient/respondent,

Katharine Hepburn.

“If you were a tree, [dramatic pause].. what kind of tree would you be?

“If you don’t know it already, PLEASE don’t peek at the original answer. Again; I wanna hear from KRISTIN – specifically,

‘Kristin Hersh playing the part of Katharine Hepburn.’ Think of it like a method acting experiment. Take your time and get to know Katharine.. actually, go with ‘Kate.’ Be KATE, Kristin Hersh.. empathize with Kate, say something like, ‘for my god-DAMNED self’ in a bourgeois boarding school abroad accent the way Kate would’ve said it.”

Answer?

Anyway.

“Did I miss an interview with you?

PFFT. Silly Kristin;  the Kate Hepburn question WAS the interview!

She didn’t even NEED to answer it, though: being kinda psychic and all, I simply randomly pulled up a rando Twitter post featuring a pic of Kate Hepburn in her first ever stage role:

BOOM, KRISTIN.. you wouldn’t be a tree at all! You’d be a god-DAMNED Amazon warrior-thunder goddess!! Not too shabby for a kedd from South County Rhode Island, amirite??