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| Alan Vega snapped by Howard Thompson on April 20th 2016 |
I was lucky enough to actually know Alan Vega a bit. My first
encounter with Suicide had been via the 1976 Max’s compilation. When the album
came out, it polarised anyone that it came into contact with. In the mind of a daft wee
fanzine editor, the duo became part of a holy NY quinity – Cramps/Dictators/New York Dolls/Ramones/ Suicide – presented alphabetically,
not necessarily in order of merit.
Howard Thompson had licensed “Suicide” for release on Bronze
in the UK after being alerted to their existence by Kevin Patrick who’d sent him a copy as part of their ongoing record swapping activity. I met H through
Ms Miriam Linna who was working for Marty Thau at Red Star. I’d recently made
contact with Miriam via Richie Teeter of The Dictators and had sent her a tape
of Simple Minds that she had played for Howard. Anyway, over the years, I got
to know Alan via HT and I always found him to be the consummate gentleman. The
first time we met, I believe, was the third floor of a place called Danceteria
in 1983 and many times over the years after that.
The best New Years Eve I ever spent EVER was at the close of 1990 in a bar
close to Alan and Liz’s apartment. It involved HT, Vega and I discussing the
best method of preparing a roast. How much more rock’n’roll could it get? We
were the only people in there. Everybody else must have been in Times Square or
wherever. It felt like the only people left in the city or even the world, aside
from the bartender. There was also the time that Alan weighed in to try and
save BBC Radio Scotland’s Beat Patrol. Scotland was always amenable to Suicide at
the time when many other places were not. Alan was perplexed when the audience
at Tiffany’s in Edinburgh attempted to dance to their “music”. I found that
baffling is because audiences in that city are not renowned for dancing to
anything let alone something as newfangled as these guys were.
Suicide played a show at The Buffalo bar in London a few
years ago (June 2007 as a warm-up for their Grinderman opening slot?). HT, Tony
Thewlis and I witnessed a sound check that was so mind-blowingly surreal as to make
me wonder if it ever actually happened at all. I saw them a good number of
times but this was Lynch-like in terms of electricity.
My most recent interaction with him was when Liz kindly put
together his recollections of the "Cubist Blues" record for the Light In The
Attic reissue. Getting her notes, one perceptive quote really hit me. “We were meditating
on sound and time was suspended.” It was so perfect,
so Alan. When I sent Iñigo
the draft, he freaked out at how succinctly Alan had nailed it. Another thing I recall was my ex-partner being
scared to meet Vega and then not being able to believe how nice a man he was
“in real life”.
He was and is and forever will be an extraordinary character
and inspiration that was locked on a constant trajectory to create. Seemingly unfettered compared to the
rest of us. Suicide may might not have set the heather on fire at the time but
once the blaze started an eternal flame was lit and those initial dreams burned
forever. The world caught up. How did that happen? And then there were his solo
records. Always breaking new ground, setting the bar higher and ever higher,
visceral one minute, heartbreaking the next.
An Alan/Liz/Dante project that was previewed at The Barbican
is in the pipeline. Recordings that Alan completed with Ben Vaughn and Palmyra
Delran will also hopefully find their way into the world over the coming
months. It won’t be easy to adjust to a post-Vega world. Who the heck is even close to being as qualified to scream
the truth at and for us now?
