"Wavelength" is a 1967 experimental film by Michael Snow. Supposedly, it is an example of "structural film," a meaningless, self-important term applied to indulgent nonsense "whose shapes were often predetermined and which subordinated content to form." Please. "The Acid House," on the other hand, is a live demo recording from the year 2000. It appears on the album Breakfast at Cuneo's Drive-In (side 2). Absolutely, it is an example of "deconstructural music," a made-up term imbued with existential power, weight, and meaning, and which applies to works whose form is, basically, all over the place. While "Wavelength" is held together by hundreds of structural column inches of faux-artistic obfuscation, "The Acid House" threatens to fall apart at the seams, or disintegrate at the level of the subparticulate soundbrick. But, miraculously, its structural integrity remains relatively intact.
The title is from one of those nihilistic late 90s Brit-lit books, all about club kids, the underground electrosomething scene in London, and the colorful drugs that destroyed their sense of style. The Trainspotting guy, I think. I never read the book. Either of them. Those deconstructive guys will only take you so far. To the end of everything except the ego of the protagonist, usually. It's not enough. The drug story isn't interesting. The movie may be cool (and it is), but at what point does being a tourist in your own youth prevent you from moving forward? Especially if you're still young?
I liked the sequel though. I had no expectations.
Why not.
Anyway, if you're overwhelmed by power and purpose, and need "a minimalist exploration of the cinematic relations between time, space, narrative, and even color" to bring you down, check out "Wavelength." I never have. But if you want to ride a wooden rollercoaster through a rickety gravel vortex in search of power and meaning, listen to "The Acid House." Recorded with a cheap mic and a tape recorder by somebody's girlfriend standing in the middle of the room in a bar in Chicago more than 25 years ago.
Why not.
The Acid House
my skull is melting to my brain
and pleasure is disguised as pain
in the acid house
the bugs are begging for electric shocks,
or something,
something something something
in the acid house
do you close your eyes when you open your mind?
I won't come down until the day I die
I was born on my death bed
something about foes and friends,
I dunno,
something nihilistic probably,
who cares,
steal my soul
my soul to save
©2000 Nathan Payne
