Until recently it’s fair to state that only heavy-duty fans of Cleveland’s subterranean musical history recognized the name Robert Bensick, but with the emergence of French Pictures in London as the latest volume in Smog Veil Records’ Platters du Cuyahoga series, his modest profile is set to change. Combining 14 tracks into a potent avant-pop brew, the results, once thought lost, are fascinating and on occasion startlingly effective. Featuring a lineup sprinkled with future Ohio punk all-stars, the Robert Bensick Band’s sole outing deepens the already labyrinthine rewards of its region and rescues its namesake from footnote status; it’s out June 24 on vinyl, compact disc, and digital.
The arrival of French Pictures in London concludes Series 1 of Smog Veil’s Platters du Cuyahoga initiative, and after time spent it registers as the most necessary (if not by extension the best) of the three albums; it’s preceded by X__X’s Albert Ayler’s Ghosts Live at the Yellow Ghetto and Mr. Stress Blues Band’s Live at the Brick Cottage 1972 – 1973.
Actually the second installment in this initial Platters du Cuyahoga run but the last to see completion (series 2 is reportedly in preparation now), French Pictures in London is very much its own thing; with this said it eventually gravitates nearer to John Morton’s art-punk convulsiveness than it does to the no-frills bar-band blues action of Mr. Stress Blues Band.
However, Bill “Mr. Stress” Miller and Bensick did basically evolve from the same fertile late ‘60s scene. By ’66 the latter had been recruited from his first band the Back Group (originally The Coachmen) to play drums for The Munx of Sandusky, OH. Specializing in essentially innocuous vocal harmony-infused guitar pop, they issued a couple of 45s. By ’68 Bensick had bailed for more lively creative environments.
He did briefly return after The Munx transformed into the Sheffield Rush, but Bensick’s interests continued to broaden as the landscape of the ’70s darkened. Eventually he formed Hy Maya alongside future Pere Ubu synthesizer player Allen Ravenstine; a hybrid of electronic music, often on homemade devices, and art exhibition, until now the stories of their live experiences have been Bensick’s biggest claim to positive impact upon the Cleveland scene.
Amongst providing an island of weirdness in a bleak time, Hy Maya also introduced Peter Laughner to the musicians that would populate his numerous early ’70s outfits; there was Cinderella Backstreet, and Bensick himself participated in The Fins (or Finns). Although he also took part in The Electric Eels’ live sets during at least one of their now legendary pair of Extermination Music Nights, the description of Bensick offered in Nick Blakey’s excellent notes by scene cohort and French Pictures in London contributor Cynthia Black is as astute as it is blunt: “…he was NOT punk.”
However, a fair amount of his LP does hang around the periphery of the genre’s dawn in large part due to the players involved; in addition to Bensick on vocals, guitar, flute, Mellotron, ARP Odyssey, and EML synthesizer, there is longtime Bensick associate and Laughner bandmate Albert Dennis on bass, Michael Hronek on electric and acoustic piano, Cynthia Black on Mellotron and most notably, future Pere Ubu members Scott Krauss and Tom Herman on drums and lead guitar respectively.
But Bensick adds a bit of punkish flair to the proceedings right out of the starting gate; the somewhat glammy blend of erudition and decadence in the songwriting and especially the vocals during opener “Payphone Meter Lover” is slightly reminiscent of Richard Hell, a destination arrived at completely independently as at the point of this album’s recording Hell was in the process of exiting Television.
The year was 1975 and French Pictures in London occasionally exudes a mildly debauched singer-songwriter aura; the titular snaps are pornography, don’tcha know. Interestingly, the album was recorded through a connection to A&M Records, though it was a demo deal that seems similar to the type Bill Miller turned down back in ’69; the label later dropped Bensick without even listening to these songs (one of the two surviving masters was given to Ohioan and future John Carpenter associate Alan Howarth).
The relationship with A&M did get Bensick booked into Agency Studios with Arnie Rosenberg, who’d manned the booth for The Munx, in the producer’s role. According to Bensick, the title track prelude of a door closing and radio playing was Rosenberg’s idea, and it was Hronek’s inspiration to turn what follows into a full-fledged trip down jazzbo lane (a la the guest guitar of Jonathan Giblin).
Ears approaching this retrieval from a punk angle might have a little trouble with the finger-snapping nature of the tune, but from this writer’s perspective it nicely accentuates the scope of Bensick’s ambition; the flute spiked keyboard driven art-rock and late bluesy redirect that is “Lily White” should make it abundantly clear this slab is far from third-rate punk studio scraps.
Don’t want to scare off those curious punkers, though. The opener does sport splendid guitar punch courtesy of Herman, while “Night Life” wades into electronically shaded lounge pop waters; it’s here that the references to the New Romantic ‘80s begin to take shape (some may recognize Bensick due to a self-released ’81 cold wave single under the name Berlin West), but “8:30 PM Victoria Haze” is just a concise singer-songwriter-styled pop gem with a dab of ’60s backing vocals.
It bleeds directly into the airy psych-folk miniature “Silly Man” which itself flows into the even more mystically-tinged “Drink the Memories,” French Pictures in London taking on a bit of a concept album atmosphere as side one ends. “After the Ball” does inspire a few glam-stamped post-VU glitter trails, but “The Muse” redirects once again, its segment of spoken poetics nodding to prog without succumbing to sub-Moody Blues pomp.
It becomes clear why Bensick nixed the involvement of Laughner in these sessions. It was to be his coming out album as a pop artist, and too many auteurs spoil the dish, though “In’s Been Changed to Out” does recall the late founding member of Ubu a bit, especially when Bensick sings the line “go hang out with the plain folk/the plain folk call you queer.”
He also sounds like a cross between Alex Chilton and Jobriath, but like sweet Hell above, that was surely a coincidence. From there “Cinquain Attempted” dabbles in musical theater as the short “Postscript to L.” (credited to Hronek, the only track not written by Bensick on the record) serves as an instrumental bridge to the darkly baroque “Sweet Pricilla.”
It’s an exceptional song, but the wildest moment is saved for last; operatic, funky and in one’s face with spasms of guitar and unflagging ejaculations of synth, “Doll” is a remarkable punk specimen from the ‘70s rotten middle; it pretty much insures the impossibility of A&M actually releasing French Pictures in London back in the day, and it inspires eager anticipation for the launch of Platters du Cuyahoga series 2.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
B+
