Cymbalism

4. Identity

2007-09-23T00:16:00.000-04:00

Through the social and hormonal haze of high school, The Six and Violence made its intrepid way. All of us attended a relatively liberal Catholic high school. Liberal as compared to the school today where the students wear uniforms and the Principal is a man of the cloth. When we were there the Principal was a red-faced layman. We didn't wear uniforms. We were required to dress the equivalent of what is called "business casual" today. That of course was stretched, most effectively by the girls.

It was during our junior year that the band had its first rehearsals and sold its cassette. That tape has made appearances on eBay in recent years. I don't recall what the sellers were asking but it was sort of surreal to know it's been there and is of value to someone out there; I'm still surprised by whatever fame we were able to achieve. Thanks.

We pulled in enough cash for the tape and from our few shows at Feb's to make us want more ... attention than cash though the cash was interesting. My father chuckled in disbelief. I'm sure all our parents thought it amusing. But tasting that dream - the rock and roll dream - was exhilarating. It was very cool.

At a time when one's identity is being formed, having music is a means of defining oneself in terms of beliefs, values, views and relationship with society. Music is very powerful at any stage and in almost any context but in high school where you have little to show for yourself, music was a tool of communicating and defining your worth and your place.

High school is sort of funny in the grand scheme of things. In light of socialization and self-definition who you are is very much derived from family, things like religion and nationality. It's also from your limited achievements like grades and sports. In high school those things become more refined with the choices we make and enhanced with extra-curricular activities like art, photography, sports, music, drugs, smoking, drinking... the Six and Violence for me at least, was a cool thing to be associated with. Between Kurt, Sorge, Jim, J and Dave there were cool guys in the band. I was probably the dorkiest - certainly the most awkward socially. The band helped to smooth out the edges and it was comfortable - it felt good to be playing with friends and playing music that I related to. In that way, I was lucky. But "lucky" only in hindsight.

The kind of music we were into at the time spanned the "rock" spectrum from Rush, Yes, Jethro Tull to the Dead Kennedys, Clash and Ramones. The Six and Violence was a melding of that spectrum. Looking at the band half the guys were into progressive rock a la Rush and Jethro Tull, the other half was into the "punk" scene comprised of bands like The Ramones, The Clash, and if you stretched the definition, U2. But placing the Six and Violence on that spectrum is hard. It was akin to Spinal Tap, equal part rock, theater, homage, and joke.

Queens was in flux during this period as well. Most of us grew up and lived in a predominantly white northeastern Queens. Go there today and it's mostly Asian or seemingly so. The major influx of Asian immigrants came in the late 70s and early 80s during our formative years as it were. What influence that had on us, I don't know. Perhaps there was one on some deeper level or none at all. For me being of the minority to begin with, the issue of identity was more pronounced.

I didn't relate at all with the new immigrants. Kids my age at the time and younger were expected to learn piano and/or violin. Expected. In some circles that is still true today - part of the "perfect immigrant" perception. So playing percussion in a punk band was absolutely unheard of and needless to say frowned upon by Asians. Today I would say that's still the case but certainly not to the same extent. It's evident in a growing number of acts today. I remember seeing James Iha of the Smashing Pumpkins. It was in the early 90s just as they were emerging. I thought I started a trend...

So you can imagine, 1984, here I was an Asian-American playing cymbals in a hardcore band. Goofy. This is another element to playing cymbals in the Six and Violence - that it's a joke. It's contrived. It's not serious. It's important only for the novelty of it. I contributed nothing musically or lyrically; I didn't have the skills really. I was a sight gag and I knew it. Although I was cool with it most of the time, there were times when I felt uncomfortable with it. I was an outsider while being inside which was a reflection of my place in the world. I was an Asian-American who thought and felt more American than Asian; I was American to the Asians and Asian to the Americans. On stage I wasn't really a musician, I merely looked like one.

I don't feel the same way at all today. Part of the uniqueness of The Six and Violence sound is the dual percussion action. There's also an energy that comes with standing than from sitting at a kit. Dave and I play off each other. After playing cymbals next to Dave for over 20 years the greatest compliment is when people say we sound like one player. Perhaps similarly, I don't feel like a hyphenated American - that was a very 80's concept.

I don't know about the others but being in and growing up with this band has helped define me beyond the little world we navigated in a Queens high school. Back then it was "cool," it was an energy release and a dream realized albeit on a small scale. Later it became the answer to existential questions ... oh who am I kidding, it's still about living a dream...

3. Let Us Pray...

2007-09-16T00:10:00.000-04:00

Sometime in 1985 with the band fully formed, Kurt and Chris on vocals, Jim V on guitar, J on bass, Dave drums and me on cymbals, we released a cassette tape titled "Lettuce Prey." (Which was also the title of our first CD released 5 years later). The recordings were made in Kurt's basement onto an over-worked Technics reel-to-reel that Kurt's dad used to enjoy his classical collection. Though I don't recall the full list of songs here's what I do remember:

I'll Kill You
Hamburger Hairdo
I've Got a Bomb and I Want to Use It
Mister Roger's Neighborhood
Kicked In the Head
Green Beret
My House Is Haunted
College Applications
Golf

In between nearly each song were samples borrowed from comedy and sound effects albums. There were also, if I recall, some homegrown sound effects as well. In the mid-1970's, Kurt, Dave and I attended the same oppressive parochial grammar school. Among the many things we did to whittle away the time, we used to create mixed tapes of music that quickly evolved into homegrown sound effects. Kurt and Dave took it to extremes. Kurt's father's 1/4" reel-to-reel was not only used to listen to Beatles and Zeppelin albums backwards, but also to create eerie and sometimes hilarious audio soundscapes. Dave, using sound effects devices like fuzz and reverb boxes recorded belches, screams, and body slaps to hilarious effect. A number of these sounds also made it to the CD Lettuce Prey.

Looking back Dave and Kurt were kindred spirits both getting drunk on sound particularly those inarticulate sounds we make to express horror, disgust, and fear. They were fascinated by natural sound but also by what equipment can do to alter it.

Over 25 years on is it any surprise that Dave has a state of the art recording studio in his home and Kurt plays electronic music with a couple bands?

We all share a similar sense of humor. I don't think it's hereditary. I think humor is developed during a small window of time in childhood. Like the New York accent for instance. I think it's learned not over a long period of time but within a window. I grew up in New York but don't have a New York accent. Why? The same goes for Kurt. Humor is developed similarly - at least that's my theory.

For us I think our window was open at the same time and shining in were Monty Python, the Marx Brothers, the humor of movies like "Airplane" and "Police Squad," puns and site gags. Then again perhaps that humor is uniquely male. But within a pun or for that matter in a song lyric, one could make a point that much more poignant with irony, with a pun, or a double entendre. Then again... "I'm pulling out my putter, I'm gonna get a hole in one!"

"Lettuce Prey," the cassette, sold like Kool-Aid. Our audience comprised mostly of our high school classmates who willingly shelled out 5 bucks (I think it was) per cassette. If I recall both Dave and Kurt had the tape to tape decks and were churning them out as fast as they could. The cover art was done by Kurt in what would be - for me at least - the branded Six and Violence look.

That look hinted at the medieval with skulls, skeletons and a typeface that Kurt devised influenced by Celtic runes. His very distinctive skeletons and skulls evoked an eerie sense of glee. They were always smiling as skulls typically do - but in a kind of deer in the headlights way and hardly violent. They wielded golf clubs - how violent could that be?

The name of the band was pulled from a long list of potential names that I think either Kurt or Dave still have. I don't recall any of them except one, "Spock and the Exploding Microwaves." I assumed Spock was Dave.

The phrase "Let Us Pray" reminds me of the aforementioned parochial school and in particular the pastor who I will refer to here as "Pastor Flood." Every Thursday, donning clip-on ties (and looking forward to an attempt at looking up or down Lisa F's dress), the entire school went to chapel. I don't recall much from those mornings except the way the sunlight would stream through the stained glass, how uncomfortable the pews were, how the pews would shake when Habs would laugh (typically at Kurt), and how wide a wingspan Pastor Flood had.

During mass he always wore a long white robe and towered above us on the rostrum and when an important point was to be made, he made it with arms outstretched, his pock-marked rotund face almost beaming, his beady eyes glinting almost sinisterly... he scared us and made us laugh at the same time. When he was not pontificating, he seemed aloof. Even in the halls in school or when he'd visit the classrooms, he kept a distance. He seemed to demand reverence.

He embodied hypocrisy.

We eventually heard about the illicit affair; as 7th and 8th graders, that was our first experience with adultery. We wondered about the Mercedes and the big house a couple miles away; an experience with greed. He came to PROVE in our young minds that the adults in our lives who were meant to impress and teach us values had none or little themselves. He was fallibly human. He was Santa - he didn't exist. And later on we felt bad for him.

I still hear his voice though... "Let us pray..." Lettuce Prey.

2. A Cymbal Player?

2007-09-12T23:55:00.000-04:00

Kurt's basement was a maze. Aisles of floor to ceiling shelving filled with sheet music, LPs, 78s, 33s, 45s, reel-to-reels - his father's more than ample not to mention priceless music collection. Amid these invaluable classical recordings, with the notes of Beethoven, Mozart, Bach and Shostakovich engulfing us, The Six and Violence had their earliest rehearsals.

At the first rehearsal, down one aisle was Kurt sitting with a black faux Les Paul wearing dark glasses. Sitting just across from him - a foot or 2 away Jim V and beside him J. Dave set up borrowed drums down another aisle. The drums consisted of a kick, two mounted toms, a snare and maybe one bent crash cymbal. Dave brought sticks, his snare and a ride cymbal. He forgot the kick drum pedal.

I was an innocent bystander. I was there to hang out. I was the band's first groupie. The band was unnamed. Kurt was prepared with lyrics and some guitar riffs. There may've been others there, I don't recall but the core group was there: drums, guitar, bass and vocals.

It was on subsequent rehearsals that Sorge would join in along with more groupies but by then I'd graduated to band member.

It was at that first rehearsal, I mentioned the fact that Dave forgot his kick drum pedal. He had to play without. If I recall he didn't like the way the toms sounded or they were too loud for the others to hear themselves. So he played on a cardboard box.

I remember very clearly, he sat in a rickety folding chair, the ride cymbal in his lap. I stood in front of him on the other side of the drums. I was wearing a green beret. He said "Ken, you'll have to play cymbals. I can't play cymbals and drums without the kick pedal. I'm going to have to play it by hand." Or something to that effect. He handed me his ride, the dented crash, the broken hi-hat stand on which the dented crash would wobble and his own cymbal stand for the ride. I set up in another aisle of the basement; I couldn't see anyone except maybe Dave's arm. I vaguely recall reading on one shelf, Beethoven Piano Sonatas or something equally "classical."

I played those cymbals like I knew what I was doing. I suppose history was made that night. If it weren't for Dave being Dave-like, i.e. a drummer, forgetting an important piece of hardware, we would probably never have been called "The Six and Violence" much less have 2 percussionists who stand during live shows.

During that rehearsal, we sat. I may've gotten up a couple times to stretch but I was blocked in. Had there been a fire, I'd have been stuck there, left to burn very quickly with all that old paper and vinyl around me.

I don't recall what we played that night but I'm pretty sure "I'll Kill You" was among the songs. I do recall playing a couple bars of Rush's "Limelight" because Jim would launch into that during lulls. That also may've been the night "I Got Kicked in the Head" was first performed. Jim came up with the riff though he couldn't really accept all the credit - he watched Bonanza like the rest of us...

That was 1984. Reagan beginning his second term. New wave was all the rage as well a band from Ireland - U2. The Who had bid farewell once. A bunch of self-important artists asked "Do they Know It's Christmas?" There was still a Communist menace and the threat of nuclear war...Eddie Murphy was a Beverly Hills Cop and Harrison Ford was Indy...Bill Cosby wore too many sweaters and folks cared too much about Dallas and Dynasty...in the midst of all that culture, The Six and Violence were born in a basement in Queens, New York.

1. Introduction

2007-09-12T23:50:00.000-04:00

I played cymbals - not as part an orchestra but - in a NYC Hardcore band called "The Six and Violence." People who've played in bands and especially in bands that performed original material, will describe their material as "hard to describe" or "it's unlike anything out there." After all people play in bands for the usual reasons, i.e. to party, to meet people, to vent, to express, to communicate. But although people don't say it, originality is something they strove for. The Six and Violence was nothing but original. Our originality is perhaps what made us so interesting and so hard to pin down and therefore hard to sell to a mass audience.

I think we got caught up in the NYC Hardcore scene because of the people key members of the band knew who were part of the scene in some way; selling the records, going to the shows, or DJ'ing on college radio. Hardcore was cool back then. Punk was cool but too slow; hardcore was the next evolutionary step in the punk genre. In 1985 hardcore was fresh, exciting and rebellious (during the Presidency of Reagan) which befit a bunch of Catholic high schoolers in Queens.

The band started in a basement in northeastern Queens as the brain child of Kurt Stenzel - more on him later. The band started sometime in early 1985 or late 1984 when Kurt and the rest of the band at the time were in high school. The band played mostly original material written by Kurt along with a couple other members of the band. The first mass produced CD - "Lettuce Prey" - was released sometime in 1990, the second - "Petty Staycheck" - in 1995. As the album titles indicate - not to mention the band's name - many of the lyrics consisted of witticisms, puns and double entendres. It wasn't all spitting vitriol and political grandstanding though there was some of that - it was the Reagan then the Bush eras after all.

The band
Kurt Stenzel, the founder of the band, has been described as "guru-like," "fatherly," and most certainly "eclectic." He possesses a magnetic personality which I witnessed as early as 4th grade. His wit and charm was clearly the brains behind the band. It is also his passion that keeps the band's flame still sparkling to this day. He's inspired many including me for many years.
Dave Miranda who later played with Ludicrist and Tiny Tim (of all people), was the "muscle" behind the band as well the oft needed comic relief unbeknownst to him. His sort of "naive" humor is what makes him so funny. He was also and still is one of the best drummers I've ever heard. Humble, passionate and a little neurotic, he's a part of the spark behind the band. If he or Kurt were not part of the band, it wouldn't be the band.
Ray Amico has always been an enigma to me. We've known each other since the late 80's but I don't know Ray Amico. At turns I've found him to be pompous, aloof, ignorant and cruel. At other times generous, kind, and soulful. Always witty, a bit hyperactive, he's also straddled the borders between "normal" suburbanite and musical genius and circus freak. I think people love him and hate him all at once.
J Garino always struck me as rather John Entwhistle-like in demeanor, wit and virtuosity. Although J was the original bassist he was merely "filling-in" until Kurt found someone more permanent. And although the band went through a few bassists over the years, it felt that they were filling in for J. On-stage J sets up in front of me. I think there was occasion when Ray set up there which always threw me off. J's sound always helped to ground me.
Then there was Paul Gazzara - HE was perhaps THE ultimate character. Kurt may've been the face and brains of the band but Paulie more than anyone else was the heart and soul. His loss is still hard to believe...

Cymbalism
Me. I played cymbals and mostly in live performances. I appear on one maybe two studio recordings but I was primarily the live cymbal player. One of several but I have the distinction of forever being the first and perhaps the last. Dave played cymbals on the two studio recordings. Unless your name was Rod Morgensteen, Dave Weckl, Stewart Copeland, Buddy Rich or Neil Peart noone was to play cymbals on the studio recordings - except Dave. I had no problem with that because Dave is in a class with those aforementioned, I'm in a class called "Percussion 101" and have been taking it since 1985.

I don't work in music today nor do I play anywhere near as much as I did back then. My drum kit is set up in my basement but collects dust. I occasionally get behind them and play and tinker with tuning the heads but my kids will sooner play than I do. In sharp contrast nearly all the other members of the band perform or are involved in music professionally. I'm a web interface designer, aka Information Architect at a large Fortune 100 corporation which is probably partly why in whatever spare time I have I reminisce about and in a sense keep The Six and Violence alive. The other guys do too in their own ways.

I look back without regret and with a lot of happiness. Playing cymbals for a hardcore punk band during the intense NYC Hardcore days of the late 80's when bands like Murphy's Law, Sick of It All, Agnostic Front, held sway is a time I wouldn't trade. Opening for and being on the same bill as bands like Sick of It All, Anthrax, The Ramones among many others gave us a rare insider's view. We felt we were helping to shape the genre and establish its history.

The other interesting twist with us was our connection with Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull. NYC Hardcore, Jethro Tull; we were the very enthusiastic bridge. Ian performed on two tracks of our first CD, "Lettuce Prey." The joke was that more Tull fans own "Lettuce Prey" than Six and Violence fans - possibly true.

I started this site/blog because I want to contribute to the growing amount of info on the internet about the band. It's an interesting history that is still developing thanks to the remaining band members but also our legion of fans worldwide! This account is certainly not comprehensive. It's my perspective - from the back of the stage. It also serves as a tribute of sorts to Paulie G.

But besides interesting characters, silly lyrics, insane and inane stage antics, we represented a world grown in the heart of Queens, middle-class, restless, angry and frustrated with the government, the world, capitalism, and the trials and tribulations of growing into adulthood.

Besides the music, the band has been about comraderie, friendship, respect and a biting sense of humor. I hope this blog displays a fraction of that.

Thanks to: Kurt, Dave, Ray, J, Jim, Lia, Byso, Kevin, Barbara, Fink, Joe, Zap, John the Baptist, Glenn Glen, Sorge, Jim V, Golan Gorilla, Rob S... Paulie G.

J, Ken, Dave and Ray @ The Continental, NYC circa 1996