Suicide First Album CD

2-CD; Of 1st;2nd CD Is Live-Cbgb's 1977 & Brussels

Suicide: Martin Rev, Allen Vega.
Suicide: Alan Vega (vocals); Martin Rev (synthesizer).
Includes a bonus disc of live recordings.
Suicide: Alan Vega (vocals); Martin Rev (keyboards).
Proof that punk was more about attitude than a raw, guitar-driven sound, Suicide's self-titled debut set the duo apart from the rest of the style's self-proclaimed outsiders. Over the course of seven songs, Martin Rev's dense, unnerving electronics -- including a menacing synth bass, a drum machine that sounds like an idling motorcycle, and harshly hypnotic organs -- and Alan Vega's ghostly, Gene Vincent-esque vocals defined the group's sound and provided the blueprints for post-punk, synth pop, and industrial rock in the process. Though those seven songs shared the same stripped-down sonic template, they also show Suicide's surprisingly wide range. The exhilarated, rebellious "Ghost Rider" and "Rocket U.S.A." capture the punk era's thrilling nihilism -- albeit in an icier way than most groups expressed it -- while "Cheree" and "Girl" counter the rest of the album's hard edges with a sensuality that's at once eerie and alluring. And with its retro bassline and simplistic, stylized lyrics, "Johnny" explores Suicide's affinity for '50s melodies and images, as well as their pop leanings. But none of this is adequate preparation for "Frankie Teardrop," one of the duo's definitive moments, and one of the most harrowing songs ever recorded. A ten-minute descent into the soul-crushing existence of a young factory worker, Rev's tense, repetitive rhythms and Vega's deadpan delivery and horrifying, almost inhuman screams make the song more literally and poetically political than the work of bands who wore their radical philosophies on their sleeves. [The Mute reissue includes "Keep Your Dreams" and the "Cheree" remix that appeared on previous versions of the album, along with live versions of "Las Vegas Man," "Mr. Ray," and "23 Minutes Over Brussels"; though the extra tracks dilute the original album's impact somewhat, they're worthwhile supplements to one of the punk era's most startlingly unique works.] ~ Heather Phares
Seven years after the duo's inception, Suicide's debut album finally sneaked out in 1977 on the coat tails of the nascent New York punk scene. If its aim had been to confuse, startle, or repulse, SUICIDE succeeded in spades. By the same token, if a part-time sculptor and avant-garde jazz musician form a two-chord synthesizer duo and call it Suicide, commercial considerations are presumably low on their list of priorities. SUICIDE was a record destined to have future journalists reaching for words like "seminal". Synth duos start here.
SUICIDE's bleak, one-act plays of violence and sexual deviance, and that lo-fi monotone punctuated by sleazy groans and horrifying screams, still induce nervous tension despite the passing years. To hear Alan Vega, an Elvis caricature out of time, crooning "Girl" is unsettling enough. When he acts out the desperation of "Frankie Teardrop" over the strictly controlled minimalism of Martin Rev's grinding keyboard and time-bomb rhythm, you're guaranteed a listening experience quite unlike any other.
There is "difficult music," there is "difficult but rewarding music" and then there is Suicide. Rev's distinctive synthesizer squelch came via a broken Farfisa organ that the duo could not afford to repair. The key to their self-titled debut lies in the film noir communion of Vega's Manhattan blues growl with Vega's dissonant, repetitive, minimalist keyboard stabs. "Ghost Rider" and "Rocket U.S.A." are, to the American underground at least, two of the most influential and enduring songs ever written. The urban paranoia/psychosis of "Frankie Teardrop," meanwhile, is still mesmerizing, 20 years after the album's release. And, yes, still difficult to listen to.
Both of Suicide's first two proper records are technically untitled, and FIRST ALBUM