What a long, strange trip it’s been

In the mid-’60s, Atlanta was a slumbering Southern city whose musical community seemed hell-bent on reliving the past, with no regard for the tune or technology of the future. Now an active stomping ground for international electrocrats such as Richard Devine, Chris Brann (Wamdue, P’taah) and part-time resident Scott Herren (Prefuse 73, Savath + Savalas), the city has earned its place on electronic music’s map. But it didn’t happen overnight.

In June, the Electric Arts Alliance of Atlanta (EAAA) presents a series of concerts and discussions celebrating the legacy of Atlanta’s electronic music community. Taking place every Monday night at the Eyedrum Art & Music Gallery, the series features lectures and performances from some of the city’s most innovative and influential electronic artists, including: Dick Robinson, Howard Wershil, Robert Cheatham, Richard Gess, Marshall Avett, Tony Gordon, Don Hassler, Neil Fried and Steven Everett.

If not for the subversive — and tenacious — tactics of these select few artists, musical terrorists and engineers, the face of Atlanta’s musical landscape might never have changed.


br>?In the beginning
Sitting at Aurora Coffee in Little Five Points where the hiss and chatter of espresso machines spar with the mechanical funk of Prefuse 73 pumping from the speakers, Dick Robinson looks very much at ease. As he sips coffee, discussing his work over the years, he makes it clear that he wasn’t always this comfortable.

Robinson moved to Atlanta in 1951 to join the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra. At age 28, he held master’s degrees in composition and violin from the American Conservatory in Chicago. After taking the only electronic music courses available at the time — held at the University of Toronto in 1964 and ‘66 — and under the direction of Robert Moog in ‘65, Robinson built his own electronic music studio, dubbed the Atlanta Electronic Music Center. It was the first of its kind in Atlanta, but despite his own enthusiasm, the rest of the city was indifferent.

“Back then Atlanta was a small town, not in size, but in attitude,” says Robinson. “People were concerned with the past and not even remotely interested in contemporary music, they didn’t even want to know about it. I felt very isolated.”

It was this sense of isolation that kept Robinson going, looking within himself to find inspiration. His first electronic compositions were written using two tape recorders, a microphone and a variable speed turntable playing violin harmonics. Of course “turntablism” was completely unheard of at the time, and the recording yielded an alien sound that had no frame of reference for either composer or audience. “There was no history to it,” he recalls. “It really was at the beginning and people were perplexed by it, but I was always able to find venues for my compositions.” The venues consisted mostly of a Unitarian church and a classroom where a close friend taught physics.

Robinson started sending his recordings to colleges around the country with electronic music courses, and in 1970 he sent a piece, titled Ambience, to Dartmouth University. Shortly after, much to his surprise, he was notified that the recording had co-won first prize at the Dartmouth Electronic Music contest, and was issued on LP by Vox.

Between ‘72 and ‘75, when Robinson hosted radio shows on WREK-FM (91.1) and WRFG-FM (89.3), there was little evidence to suggest that Atlanta would ever embrace electronic music. But slowly, other people like Howard Wershil and Robert Cheatham became active with their own radio shows and groups, and as the music developed, the city began to listen.

Robinson retired from the ASO in 1987 and devoted himself entirely to electronic music. Since then he has collaborated with the likes of Pauline Oliveros, Art Papers Senior Editor Jerry Cullum and Col. Bruce Hampton, as well as improvised with local groups Phobia Nova, the Bluebirds of Happiness and the Carrier Band, among others.

Robinson’s presentation kicks off the EAAA Legacy Series, focusing on the early years and leading up to the present, June 3.


br>?From a whisper to a roar
As the ’80s rolled around, things became a lot more aggressive. Reaganomics held the country in a firm grip, and music reflected a strong reactionary state-of-mind. In England, groups like Throbbing Gristle and Cabaret Voltaire unleashed an industrial wasteland of electronic sound that resonated around the globe. In Atlanta, the same sense of isolation that had driven Dick Robinson to create new music was now motivating groups like Easturn Stars, Peach of Immortality and Tinnitus to take things one step further.

“Destroy All Music,” the noise/experimental/industrial/electronic radio program created by underground music fixture and LowLife magazine publisher Glen Thrasher and associate Ellen McGrail, began airing on WREK in 1984. Thrasher, who later spearheaded a festival of the same name, is quick to point out that “many of the groups who played the festivals were barely plugged in,” their adventurous spirit, embodied by acts like Tinnitus, served as a big bang of sorts that gave electronic music a public platform.

Forming the nucleus of Tinnitus’ ever-changing lineup, Robert Cheatham and Richard Gess molded the abrasive elements of free jazz, industrial music and electronics into a scathing wall of sound designed literally to repel listeners. “Clearing the room certainly was the aim on many occasions,” says Cheatham. “If the place didn’t empty out by the time we were done, we thought we’d done something wrong. Atlanta has changed an awful lot since those days.”

Even as more people were getting involved and building a community around electronic music, Gess adds, isolation was always a factor. “Back then, there was a hardcore cult of people who were into it. Nowadays, it’s a much larger scene with more participants and stylistic variations and a lot more legitimacy. At the time, we were outcasts. We had our own little art scene that we were part of, and we didn’t connect with anyone else.

“Now there are multiple places to play, a knowledgeable audience and a brisk trade in CDs as opposed to the little cassette culture we had going on. It still hasn’t gone mainstream, but it’s respectable at this point in a way that it never was [back then].”

At the Legacy event, Gess and Cheatham will perform older material from Tinnitus as well as newer songs from their later collaborations in Konx, Brahvar and Pre-Revolutionary.


br>?Axis of electricity
The Destroy All Music Festivals came to an end at the end of the ’80s, and electronic music-friendly venues grew scarce. It wasn’t until 1997 when Marshall Avett and Woody Cornwell modified their Trinity Avenue loft apartment to host art openings, parties and live music that the electronic music community began to thrive once again. Dubbed the Silver Ceiling, Avett and Cornwell’s loft began attracting more and more patrons, so many that more room was needed. In 1998, the two moved the space to the ground level of the building and christened it the Eyedrum Art & Music Gallery.

Eyedrum moved in 2001 to a new location on MLK Boulevard in Cabbagetown/Grant Park. Though neither Avett nor Cornwell are affiliated with Eyedrum any longer, both have worked closely with the gallery as it continues under the direction of a board of volunteers. Avett is still involved with electronic mediums via the groups Charlie Parker, Zandosis and More. He also continues his solo work.

At the same time Eyedrum was coming together, across town, in a house near Emory Commons, a similar spirit inspired local producer Neil Fried’s Railroad Earth. Set up primarily as a research facility, recording studio and occasional venue, Railroad Earth provides a milieu for artists, musicians and programmers. Over the years, Fried has recorded Smoke, Gold Sparkle Band, Antique Erotica and others.

“[Railroad Earth] is a name I’ve used as a production metaphor,” says Fried “[It’s] from a Jack Kerouac story of that title and I think of it as digital and analog, left-brain vs. right-brain thinking. In the same way the railroad connected the East Coast and the West Coast in the United States, Railroad Earth is a metaphor for technical as well as creative things.”

For the EAAA Legacy event, Fried will be performing what he calls the story of Railroad Earth: He’ll mix and match mediums to combine his lecture and musical presentation into one all-encompassing piece that highlights his role in the community.

Electronic music in Atlanta continues growing at its own pace, and the EAAA has fostered a sense of community. The Legacy Series gives it the attention it’s been denied for nearly 40 years, and as a larger community builds around its once isolated depths, the city is plugging in to the rest of the world.

But as Robinson sits at the coffee shop, soaking in the rapid-fire beats and cuts of Prefuse 73, he nods his head, chuckling. “It certainly has worked its way into the mainstream, but it’s not mainstream music.”

chad.radford@creativeloafing.com??