BLACKOUTS, THE: bio

The Blackouts were the best Seattle band you never heard of. To those of us who bought their records and attended their shows, this is no secret. But for the majority who didn't, this exciting anthology--long overdue--thankfully now exists.

In 1979, following the breakup of the notorious Telepaths, guitarist Erich Werner, drummer Bill Rieflin, bassist Mike Davidson, and synth/sax player Roland Barker formed a new musical alliance--the Blackouts. Like the Telepaths, they had an implosive intensity and were (along with a growing number of other new groups) the antithesis of the bar bands that dominated Seattle's anemic and insupportable local music scene.

Erich Werner was the Blackouts' lead singer, chief lyricist, and sole guitarist. No longer chained to lead guitar, this engaging 19-year-old with an imposing intellect took full advantage, fronting the group and transforming the way he played. With this lineup, he felt there were no limits.

Werner's atmospheric palette rapidly evolved, becoming increasingly cinematic. "We don't play anything we don't mean," he said in an interview. Listening to "Happy Hunting Ground," "Writhing," or "Chipped Beef," who could doubt it? His uncanny ability to layer & integrate sounds, to enliven each song with exacting precision, was truly impressive.

Likewise, Werner's lyrics were revelatory portraits of an American culture under siege--the vacuous & jingoistic Reagan years. His themes were wide-ranging and his writing far from routine. In "Idiot" he sketches the stultifying effects of depression, while in "Young Man" examines the exploitation & hijacking of youth by pontificating elders. This unblinkingly clear (yet highly personalized) scrutiny of the world he inhabits is Werner's unfailing strong suit. His idiosyncratic vocals--frustratingly unintelligible for the most part--almost always hit their mark. In "Exchange of Goods," his cold, cynical delivery builds by increments, erupting into an adult temper tantrum of unbridled ferocity, as the lyric's protagonist (a predator) screams, "Give me what I want!...I'll get what I want!" Werner's imperious outburst is riveting, galvanic: frighteningly real.

Intentional, dynamic songs were the Blackouts' stock-in-trade. At this they excelled, helped tremendously by the commanding, hypnotic rhythms of Bill Rieflin, generally acknowledged (by peers & press alike) to be "the best drummer in town." His percussive virtues drive the songs to their prescribed destinations. One cannot conceive of this band without him, so foundational is his drumming. It is the heart & soul of the Blackouts' sound.

Roland Barker, all the while, utilized his synthesizer to good effect, injecting whimsical, kinetic keyboard parts into the mix. These playful additions both undergirded & offset the more austere elements that were Erich's signature. Barker's role in the Blackouts literally changed overnight when his synthesizer was stolen from Seattle's Showbox Theatre. Because of this, he switched to saxophone, and the Blackouts' sound was changed forever. "The sound became more bare-bones, more tribal," recalls Bill, "its character...more unique, more condensed." As Bill sees it, the Blackouts "never really became the Blackouts" until this fateful theft intervened. It was a defining moment.

Another such moment occurred when Mike Davidson, the group's original stellar bassist, left the Blackouts shortly after their second release, the smartly titled Men in Motion EP. Replacing him was Roland's brother, Paul "Ion" Barker, summoned from Germany in May 1981. A wonderful asset, Ion's sinewy & assertive inflections further permutated the Blackouts' sound, giving it a harder, darker, more athletic feel.

Live, this incarnation of the Blackouts had an almost shamanistic influence over its audiences. For if the band had any operating credo, it was this: "An alternative to the mundane." In their creative process and their unconventional performances, this principle was ardently embodied. Intelligent, inventive, uncompromising--this was "alternative music" worthy of the name.

Having released a single and an EP, appeared on the Seattle Syndrome compilation (receiving scant local airplay and mixed reviews), signed with independent English label Situation Two for their “Exchange of Goods” / “Industry” single in late 1982, shot a remarkable video (each member loin-clothed and covered in oil and fireplace ashes) for the song "Idiot," toured the West Coast, Canada, and wherever their imaginations and finances would take them, the Blackouts concluded that they had run their course in Seattle. They had played just about every viable venue in town. It was time to continue their crusade on the East Coast, making Boston their home base. In August 1982 they played their last Seattle show and headed for Beantown, playing occasional odd gigs along the way.

Once in Boston, they settled in a tiny, cockroach-infested apartment, played few shows and wrote fewer songs. The breakthrough they had hoped for was not to be. They did, however, meet Ministry's Al Jourgensen: a propitious encounter that resulted in the Jourgensen-produced Lost Soul's Club EP--the Blackouts' last.

Far past the point of diminishing returns, the band & company sought relief in San Francisco, taking up residence there in 1984. The change of scenery did them all a world of good, but brewing internal conflicts broke them up in June of '85. In 1986 Paul began working with Ministry, eventually becoming Jourgensen's long-term collaborator. Bill soon followed, as did Roland. For Bill and Paul, this signified the first lift for two very successful professional careers. Meanwhile, Erich Werner dealt with the desertion as best he could, immersed himself in academic studies, and in 1992 joined the Toiling Midgets. In this outfit he played bass and guitar--writing, recording & performing until the band's demise in June 1997.

Legendary artist/poet/filmmaker Jean Cocteau once said: "A work of art should be 'an object difficult to pick up'.... It should be made of such a shape that people don't know which way to hold it... [This] keeps it fresh." It could easily be argued that the Blackouts were Seattle's 'difficult object': a self-contained force majeure whose admirers were many, but who existed in a time and place that ultimately failed to provide them the nourishment all artists require. Roland Barker, during a radio interview, expressed it this way: "We really feel that if your integrity is high and your intention is concentrated, eventually people will begin to see that something alive and real exists there."

It is this enduring and numinous "something," as alive and real today as it was 20 years ago, that you now hold in your hands. May you make contact with it and enjoy the discovery.

LEE LUMSDEN Seattle, WA Spring 2004

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