Carving an unlikely and elaborate niche in the stoney academic landscape
which she once shared with the likes of Phill Niblock, John Cage and Sorel
Hayes, the excitable proto-punk poèmes sonores of the linguistic loose
cannon known as Beth Anderson first rolled through New York in the mid-
1970s (from Kentucky via San Francisco) like a jumbled tumbleweed of lost
Letterism, face paint and threadbare drummy funk to astonish gallery floors,
lecture theatres and loft apartment stages.
One thousand leagues under the radar of the commercial music industry,
with a sense of humour that elevated way above her highbrow peer group,
the music of Beth Anderson has successfully evaded the pressing plant for
most of her creative career, and not unlike fellow New York gallery actionist
Suzanne Ciani, it has taken decades to successfully collect and contextualise
these early recordings - expanding her elusive discography beyond the rare
and mysterious solo single entry in the process.
When uttered amongst the type of vinyl vampires that haplessly gravitate
between both art school vintage vanity pressings and family funded plunder
funk, there’s an outside chance that the name Beth Anderson might muster
some vague recognition on account of her one and only solo wax sojourn
into the expansive DIY market. In 1980 the 45rpm single, ‘I Can’t Stand It’,
combusted into the consciousness of adventurous participants with its deep
rhythmic backbeat (courtesy of future Sonic Youth / Dinosaur Jr producer
Wharton Tiers, member of the new wave band Theoretical Girls), climaxing
with two colourful and commanding linguistic tantrums before disappearing in
a puff of smoke leaving would-be fans dumbstruck without so much as a
label name or distribution contact to explain what they had just heard.
For those who have spent the subsequent years on the edge of that same
seat, it might come as some comfort knowing that somewhere out there,
there is also a contrasting world of gallery patrons and experimental sound
poetry enthusiasts that similarly didn’t know that their regular performance
poet Beth Anderson even made the ambitious pop record. For the uninitiated,
the enigmatic Beth Anderson has straddled both sides of the art / rock fence
placed between two equally niche pastures.
Hopefully this first ever vinyl compendium will succeed in joining the dots,
loops, yelps, squeaks, beats and repeats. Let us follow Beth’s lineage, along
her magnetic tape highways crossing multiple boundaries in a hope to bridge
unlikely anti-genres like ‘yoga punk’, ‘ramble rap’, ‘combustion pop’ and
‘formroom funk’… all of which were officially neatly bracketed under the
curious Text-Sound movement where Beth garnered utmost respect as a key
practitioner.
