Flipper

The posthumous fame of Flipper, and of the ensemble that preceded them, Negative Trend, was enormous among the punk masses, although from the birth of Negative Trend to the death of singer Will Shatter (December 1987) the two groups had only managed to record two real albums. Precursors of noise-rock, grunge and the more experimental openings of hardcore, these groups never had luck in their lifetime. The sound of Flipper has been defined as "a garbage can with a bad lid". And few great musicians in recent centuries can boast a more epic compliment.

Flipper, formed by Shatter after the dissolution of Negative Trends, who only released the EP Mercenaries (1978), reissued as We Don't Pay We Riot (Subterranean, 1983), always lived on the fringes of punk. Excommunicated from hardcore, they sympathized with the subliminal experimenters of San Francisco. The first, legendary single, Love Canal / Ha Ha Ha (February 1981) and the drawl and lysergic Flipper Blues presented them under the banner of apocalyptic atmospheres worthy of the Velvet Underground. Their fame grew as a result of nefarious and violent compositions such as We Don't Understand and Hard Cold Wind .

On record Flipper were never the same. If the recordings document their search for innovative harmonic solutions, they lose much of the frightening force of their sounds. Generic (Subterranean, 1982) is however a work as extreme as it is perfect in summarizing the spirit of the times. The New York Dolls rhythm melody of Way of The World, the Rolling Stones boogie of Life, the mutant nursery rhyme at the Residents of Life Is Cheap, the Stooges garage-rock of Ever, the dark-punk hallucinations at Public Image Ltd of Shine , Shed No Tears' Chrome tracked cadence make up small, grim anthems of the nuclear era. The execution of the record is like crazy criminals, but unlike hardcore, it hints at more alienation than violence. Indeed, in some cases it is even a sarcastic parody of the paranoid depression of punks (which, in itself, could not be more punk). The infernal pandemonium of Sex Bomb rises above everything, a chaotic tribal rhythm sabbath ripped by satanic screams, riddled by the whistle of a synthesizer and the triumphal refrain of a saxophone, a cross between free-jazz jam and Indian dance. The music gives no respite, thanks to the use of two basses, the deafening roar of the rhythm section, the heroin addict feedback of Ted Falconi, and always dark and demented atmospheres. The style changes from song to song, but the near-apocalyptic atmosphere remains the same. Flipper helped shape post-hardcore that would be known for its atmosphere, not the style.

Looking more like a studio work than a live recording, Gone Fishin' (Subterranean, 1984) treated the arrangements in an even more wicked way, often in full atonality, and did not even try to make the battle-cries of hardcore. The Lights The Sound The Rhythm The Noise was a bit of their White Light White Heat , Sacrifice sounds like Shatter's satanic proclamation, and the psychedelic raga One By One crowned their stylistic research.

The live Blow'n Chunks (ROIR, 1984) is a testament to their catastrophic concerts.

Shatter's death aged 31, from an overdose (December 1987) ended the long odyssey of this historical avant-punk group. Despite the influence exerted on the rest of punk and despite the legendary charisma that had always surrounded them, they had only managed to drop two official albums.

In 1988 the album Shatter had recorded in 1986 with Any Three Initials was released, a confusing and eclectic work that seemed to point towards new horizons.

The anthology Sex Bomb Baby (Subterranean, 1988) seemed to close the coffin for good. Instead Ted Falconi (guitar), Bruce Lose (singing) and Steve Depace (drums) reformed Flipper in 1991 with new bassist John Dougherty. The single Some Day / Distant Illusion greeted the third rebirth of the group, immediately followed by the album American Grafishy (Def American, 1993). Despite Flipper Twist, the autobiographical Fucked Up Once Again and the macabre Distant Illusion, the work, probably composed years earlier, is a bit dated, but still a notch above the average of their grunge disciples.

Flipper taught an entire generation (even in grunge-era Seattle) how to play brutally loud, dissonant to the point of unlistenability, but at the same time retaining a cavernous melodiousness. However, the founders of grunge remain its greatest exponents, as evidenced by the legendary live performances, to make any Seattle rookie look pale.