San Francisco’s the Units attained a moderate amount of success, landing a video in MTV’s pre-streamlined rotation and playing gigs with a substantial list of first generation new wave cohorts. Unsurprisingly, their finest stuff arrived early and remains a too seldom heard component of the California scene at decade’s turn. 1980’s debut LP Digital Stimulation finds the Units specializing in art-angled synth-punk over straight-ahead synth-pop; it’s currently available on CD and 180gm vinyl via the Futurismo label with “secret tracks Live at Mabuhay Gardens” (guess the cat’s out of the bag now).
Formed in the wide-open late-‘70s, the core of the Units consisted of Scott Ryser on synthesizer and vocals and Rachel Webber on synth, vocals and projections. Others came and went, but for Digital Stimulation the key third member is drummer Brad Saunders. In the pre-hardcore period punk was generally more accepting of unorthodox approaches, and it was the art-centric wing of the San Fran uprising to which the Units belonged.
Soon to share stages with Dead Kennedys and Crime and to serve as openers for Soft Cell, XTC, Sparks, and Iggy amongst others, their first show wasn’t at the Mabuhay Gardens (which they eventually headlined), The Deaf Club or the Tool and Die, but instead in the front window of the city’s JC Penney’s department store, where they accompanied a piece detailing leisure activities a la sun-bathing and a go-go punk-rock beach party.
This reads as a true dilly of an experience, as signs around them reportedly posed the questions “On Vacation From What?” and “Do You Like Your Job?” Bluntly, I’m bummed over the apparent lack of video documentation of this event and am additionally miffed that cool shit like this never occurred at the JC Penney’s in the berg of my youth.
Those performance art aspects are certainly detectable on Digital Stimulation, as the Units were also impacted by experimental cinema and Brechtian street theatre, but their primary musical inspiration can be traced to Ohioans Devo and to a lesser extent the NYC duo Suicide. Another tech-pushing predecessor was Germany’s Neu! as Chrome was a left-field Bay Area contemporary; down the coast could be found Nervous Gender, Screamers, and Monitor. Across the pond was a bevy of compatible acts: Cabaret Voltaire, The Normal, Tubeway Army, Human League, Ultravox, and OMD.
The Units self-released a pair of 7-inches and a 12-inch in ’79, and Digital Stimulation was waxed in 1980 for 415 Records, a largely geographically concerned imprint perhaps best known for releasing Romeo Void, Translator, Pearl Harbor and the Explosions, and Wire Train, though they also issued material by the Nuns, The Mutants, Pop-O-Pies, VKTMS, and the Offs’ classic single “Everyone’s a Bigot,” which some may recall from the Alternative Tentacles comp LP Let Them Eat Jellybeans.
But I digress. Digital Stimulation’s opener “High Pressure Days” begins with a potent mingling of jaunty techno-keyboard lines and strikingly abrasive waves of synth. Saunders’ aggressively danceable rhythm bursts forth, and it’s suddenly easy to imagine a club full of sweaty bodies gyrating spastically as Ryser chants the lyrics with anxious punk fervor.
This leads into the fleet tension of “Digital Stimulation,” its lyrics capably embodying the song’s title, Ryser and Webber teaming up on verses combining technological preoccupation with highly familiar human behavior: “He pulled out his digital calculator/and figured out a formula on how he could make her.” Throughout, as a chorus of sorts Ryser repeats the phrase “I need to know her” with convincing desperation.
Just as vitally, the sounds surrounding them are sharply urgent, emitting tones with a corroded edge still packing a wallop today. This applies equally to the feverish electro of “Warm Moving Bodies,” Ryser spilling out the words with a near-manic sophistication, the music grinding and rippling as Webber’s voice intermittently joins in.
Sporting that title, it’d frankly come as no shock to discover this cut on the second side of the soundtrack to an early-‘80s frat-damaged teensploitation sex romp, and in fact a big factor in Digital Stimulation’s lasting appeal resides in how it refreshingly delves into the topics of the sexual amid the punk/new wave verve.
But the Units don’t suffer from a one-track mind; exploring the subject of drag racing, “Go” comes-off a little like a synth-punk B-52’s, though the song’s power is one vehicular calamity short of J.G. Ballard territory. Next is “Mission” (aka “The Mission is Bitchin’”), a brief celebration of San Fran’s Mission district, which extends the playfulness considerably, stopping a few yards short of the borderline to jokiness.
Ending abruptly, “Mission” does present an interesting slice of regionalism prior to the Units’ momentary flirtation with the mainstream. Contrasting is “Cannibals,” a tightly wound number where tandem vocals formulate a societal critique fitting snuggly into the abovementioned performance art MO. And while Digital Stimulation successfully sidesteps the use of guitars, the synth attack in “Cannibals” does an effective job of approximating brittle six-string derived post-punk ambiance.
However, “Bugboy” is a tad reminiscent of a cross between the Spud Boys and the Neue Deutsche Welle with an unexpected prog-rock synth solo thrown onto the end. Concerning growing children’s propensity for insect cruelty, the tune shows off Ryser and Webber’s subversive side. But if it’s tempting to assess the Units as a vessel for the communication of potent themes, “Tight Fit” spotlights their purely musical abilities, adding a vibraphone to deliver a highly pleasing instrumental.
Voices return on “Passion or Patterns,” with Webber’s superb inflection nudging toward a similarity to Missing Persons, though the Units are more robust. Following are two further instrumentals, “Town by the River” concise and energetic with a progression well-suited for a mass pogo, and for its first three minutes “Cowboy”’s atmospheric drift diverts significantly from the ten tracks preceding it.
At the three-minute mark the group launch into a speedy Motorik-descended passage that culminated the original LP’s sequence quite nicely. But in a swell gesture, Futurismo has nabbed the b-side of the Units’ “Warm Moving Bodies” single for the finale to this set. “I-Night” makes it abundantly clear that a guitar isn’t a prerequisite for ample rocking intensity, though the real treat is Webber and Ryser’s implementation of those synths.
Ryser’s nervous intoning is a bonus as well, closing a worthwhile and historically important effort. Not every entry here connects with the same level of ingenuity, but the highlights are great and total more than a few. Digital Stimulation showcases the Units at their best, and for anybody attracted to the intersection of punk and technology it’s essential.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A-
