In 1980s New York City Liquid Liquid hung at the crossroads of Downtown and No Wave but are more retrospectively notable for unwittingly laying the musical bedrock for an early rap hit and helping to pave the way for both the paradigm of post-rock and the new millennium’s indie-dance agenda. Superior Viaduct’s reissues of the group’s three EPs are hot off the griddle, as is an LP devoted to relevant prior acts Liquid Idiot and Idiot Orchestra. Folks needing all four can acquire them in a special-priced bundle exclusively from the label. Those looking to dabble can buy separately and in stores.
Featuring drummer Scott Hartley, bassist Richard McGuire, vocalist Salvatore Principato, and marimba specialist Dennis Young, Liquid Liquid announced their presence in 1981 with two EPs issued on 99 Records, a home to significant if initially neglected indigenous happenings of the period; Glenn Branca, Bush Tetras, Y Pants, and ESG were all documented on the influential venture of Ed Bahlman.
But not so fast; before Liquid Liquid’s formation the members were part of two related bands, the older of the two being Liquid Idiot. They formed circa the late ‘70s down New Jersey way at Rutgers University and migrated to Gotham to play gigs. The flyers for these events would encourage the audience to bring their own instruments and join right in, and at one of these hootenannies Dennis Young showed up, playing marimba from the floor.
Liquid Idiot recorded a 7-inch in McGuire’s living room while still in New Brunswick; offering loose, thoroughly non-pro art-inclined DIY totaling 15 minutes, its nine tracks spring from a framework of guitar and rhythm as clarinet, saxophone, and a cheap organ intermittently enter the fray. Favoring abstraction and repetition over melodious concerns, Liquid Idiot’s beginner’s stabs at free jazz/Trout Mask-era Magic Band/general avant-gardism are likeable if far from mind-blowing. Occasionally, the thrust’s comparable to the Los Angles Free Music Society.
Once in NYC Liquid Idiot played such venues as Tier 3, Mudd Club, and CBGB; they even spawned a jazzy tumor of an offshoot named Idiot Orchestra. Wielding a three horn line, violin, cello, synth, marimba, bass and drums, their objective was more structured; the contents of their own 7-inch are fittingly described on Superior Viaduct’s one sheet as a “no wave version of Raymond Scott’s big band.”
Self-released and surely insanely rare, the label has admirably placed these documents onto opposing sides of a split-LP, and if the musical impact is minor and largely of historical interest, with time spent a certain arty charm does arise. One half noodles and the other sways with moments of lopsided finger-snap, but a unifying factor is the lack of a vocal presence.
After McGuire asked his friend Principato to join, Liquid Idiot gradually became more rhythmic ally oriented, though the diversity of the member’s listening habits is also important. Alongside the punk/new wave/post-punk staples their interests stretched to reggae/dub, gamelan orchestras, African sounds, the advanced soul/R&B of Mayfield and Hayes, and even early rap.
McGuire has referred to their growth as an evolution into “body music,” and their emergence as Liquid Liquid in 1981 bears out the description, combining a groove one could cavort to with post-punk mysteriousness, street edge and arty touches. Principato was reportedly influenced by Peruvian vocalist Yma Sumac, and on the first EP’s opener “Groupmegroup,” his yelps, trills, and shouts do tap into the exotic with an additional hint of John Lydon.
Meanwhile the hand drums and rising-falling waves of percussion at the start cohere and intensify around an off-center yet infectious bass pattern. Lengthy enough to establish newfound sonic aims, it promptly makes way for the succinct forward motion of “New Walk,” Young wasting no time in vindicating his instrumental contribution as no novelty. And both “Lub Dupe” and “Bell Head” brandish potent rhythmic scenarios, the former tribal with Principato seesawing like a tropical Richard Hell and the latter more designed for booty-shake.
Closer “Rubbermiro” sports melodica likely inspired by Augustus Pablo, though thanks to the chiming cascades of marimba and drums the ambiance suggests a futuristic marching band, a motif enhanced by the guest trumpet gusts of original Sonic Youth drummer Richard Edson. On the close of the vinyl his tones are repeated for as long as pleases the individual listener via locked groove.
Altogether “Liquid Liquid” was a solid start, and the “Successive Reflexes” EP improved upon the template, immediately exuding assured post-punk atmosphere. Where the debut was full of good ideas, “Lock Groove (In)” is a full-fledged song. They also expanded the palette; while retaining the pulse of its predecessor, McGuire’s piano gives “Lock Groove (Out)” the feel of a chilly postmodern cabaret.
A major aspect in Liquid Liquid’s personality draws from the lack of guitar; it’s not an absence however, and the bass in the brief sprint “Push” manages to bring Mike Watt’s work in The Minutemen to mind. “Push”’s tempo contrasts with the slower pacing of “Successive Reflexes” overall, and “Zero” deepens the mingling of Krautrock-derived post-punk and the Afro-beat of Fela Kuti. The subtly layered finale “Eyes Sharp” welcomes key Downtown figure Elliot Sharp on clarinet.
“Optimo” arrived in ’83, and it revealed Liquid Liquid as a well-oiled machine, tightening their focus and delivery as they slimmed down to core instrumentation. The title-cut instantly ups the dance vibe without losing track of the art-edge, and Principato has come into his own on the mic. It leads into “Cavern,” easily their most famous tune as the music served as the uncredited foundation to Grandmaster Melle Mel’s rap cornerstone of the same year, “White Lines (Don’t Don’t Do It).”
Litigation ensued; Sugar Hill Records lost and wasted no time in going bankrupt. Receiving no payments, Bahlman folded 99 shortly thereafter. Possessing one of modern music’s great bass lines, “Cavern” is truly magnificent New York-styled disco nervousness; Liquid Liquid’s influence on the ensuing post-rock hoards and dance-punk brigade can be summed up right here.
Showcasing Young’s marimba chops, “Scraper” is also a groove-beast, while “Out” wraps up the group’s initial run with perhaps their most punk-imbued moment, Principato barking his words in an especially angry manner. It reinforces Liquid Liquid’s stylistic crosspollination as their collected EPs have aged extremely well. The split-LP’s prehistory is an enlightening bonus for those desiring the plunge.
Liquid Idiot/Idiot Orchestra
B
“Liquid Liquid”
B+
“Successive Reflexes”
A-
“Optimo”
A
