While I am no closer to having a concrete definition of what new wave as a genre is, I have loved this column’s ability to constantly make me recontextualize that answer. There have been traces of more direct punk rock and even 2-Tone Ska. It could be something more thematic and not even sound poppy at all. It could be the greatest, highest concept of a band imaginable. New wave doesn’t make sense to me, and it’s everything that makes me love Pylon’s “Gyrate.” Despite R.E.M. once declaring to Rolling Stone that the Athens, GA quartet was the best band ever, I have somehow gone this long without knowing what they sounded like. Then again, it’s what has made listening to records by Soft Boys or Orange Juice so much fun.
In a broad sense, Pylon reminds me of the subdivision of new wave that is populated by the likes of DEVO. There is experimentation that makes you question the very technique that it takes to play guitar or write a verse-chorus-verse track. It feels paranoid, so full of this energy that makes you want to dance but it’s also a bit discomforting to do so. It’s a band that feels defiant of the current trends and is doing their own thing. I don’t believe that they were capable of making a lengthy hit heavy career like many bands covered so far. They did what they needed to do and left behind a legacy that feels almost mythical at this point.
The band was formed in 1978 when they were art students at The University of Georgia in Athens. Guitarist Randall Bewley and bassist Michael Lachowski were playing together before deciding to start a band. This wasn’t to say that they had much experience but chose to have a very specific approach to music. As Lachowski put it, "A lot of us in the art school were trying out different media with a punk rock message, which is just go in there and do it. You don’t need training, or authority or legitimacy. Just figure it out.” The goal was to get in there and perform live before things got boring. They would perform at a place nicknamed “40 Watt Club” before adopting the other members. Vanessa Briscoe Haye became their singer not because she had amazing vocals, but more because they liked her artwork.
Their influences could be seen in bands like Cabaret Voltaire, Suicide, and the 1978 compilation “No New York.” They were also big fans of the soundtrack to Eraserhead (1977). One thing they weren’t fans of, ironically, was William Faulkner. Many have posited that they got the name from his novel “Pylon,” but they openly admit that they weren’t aware of his work. It was actually named after the traffic cones because Lachowski claimed, “it is severe, industrial, monolithic, functional.” Given that they were from an art school, it made sense that their sound was jerky and unlike many contemporaries.
There are rumors suggesting that they had some famous fans early into their run. Fred Schneider and Kate Pierson of The B-52’s were present at their third show. Upon hearing their music, they were early supporters and would help them get gigs in New York City. They would also give manager Jim Fouratt a Pylon demo tape and offered them a chance to perform for a number of bands (they eventually settled on Gang of Four). They would go on to tour with a variety of noteworthy bands of the time including Mission of Burma, R.E.M., and Talking Heads. With all of that said, few were ready for what would come with their debut album “Gyrate.”
Much like their mission statement, they were mixing punk ethos with a variety of messages. The melodies were fast, but they also had a jerky quality that separated them from their contemporaries. Haye's vocals are unpolished, capturing a wavering quality that made every track sound paranoid, like there was a nervous energy to everything. Over 36 minutes, the band made an aggressive case for their coolness. At times there were more direct hooks while also having a garage band quality that made it all blend together. Even then, there was an impressive amount of confidence for a band that had only really existed for two years prior to this release.
More than anything, I love that this is one of those albums that feels dissimilar from a lot of what came before. Once you press play on “Volume,” there is this alarming energy that makes you unsure of what to think. Without a lyric sheet in front of me, there’s enough abstract lines that make it difficult to fully understand what they’re saying. There is a need to focus in and really appreciate what they’re saying. Even then, I’m left with this desire to move and feel the energy. Turning up the volume feels like the right way to start this journey into an album that manages to capture such wonderful fragmented hooks and dive into the socially conscious themes.
I really enjoyed how “Read a Book” has this sarcasm to it that makes you understand the importance of education. At times this definitely feels like a record only a bunch of art students could make. It’s a deconstruction of where rock was going and found something more meaningful in it. There isn’t a time where I believe they had a hit single, but there’s still this desire to hear a crowd just sing along to every chorus and take it in. It’s a celebration of intellect even in the rebellious spirit of youth. This isn’t a band that is self-conscious about where their careers are going. There is a genuine sense that they’re in this to just have fun, and it goes a long way to make songs like “Gravity” such a thrill ride.
To some extent, I feel disappointed that I don’t have more to really say about this record. Looking back at bands like Buggles or Adam and the Ants, there is such a definitive personality to them that makes you able to deconstruct what they’re going for. The weirdness allows for several think pieces worth of material. With Pylon, I think their greatest gift is how straightforward their legacy is. They weren’t burdened with long-term mainstream success nor was there a whole lot of drama. Their album, comparatively, was straightforward. There’s no great song story like with The Jam having tracks rescued from a second opinion. “Gyrate” is just a genuinely enjoyable album that never lets up until it ends. Even the fact that the last song is called “Stop It” really captures how cheeky their personality was. It was funny without feeling like the band was insulting the listener. It just feels cool to listen to Pylon.
Which is why I think that bands like R.E.M. latched onto them. I would hate to imagine what their legacy would look like without the help of some more prominent acts like The B-52’s offering their assistance. They don’t seem the most commercial and at times embody better than anyone the new wave ethos of being so against the grain that it’s hard to classify. Nobody is going to stumble upon a Pylon record and think it sounds like anybody else. Maybe they’ll have heard someone else do a cover, but that’s the extent of it. Like the cone they’re named after, there’s something singular about their existence.
Another fun thing about Pylon is that they’re a band that didn’t break up over some grand controversy. Their story, on the surface, sounds like every other Make It New entry so far. They had an early 80s success before fizzling out by the middle of the decade. It’s true that they only had one other album in them (“Chomp”), but they openly admit that their break up was spawned by believing that performing wasn’t fun anymore. That had always been their mission statement, so mission accomplished. They broke up following their opening gig for the American leg of U2’s War Tour. There’s something satisfying about ending the band less on drama and more personal interest.
What makes their post-career era so exciting is that their reputation only continued to grow. R.E.M. campaigned for them to record another album and thus “Chain” was released in 1990. Hay would join the band Supercluster in 2007. There was also a cover band called Pylon Reenactment Society featuring members of various Athens bands. Haye finds it all inspirational and believes that it makes their legacy all the more fulfilling. The band was reunited in 2004 for a five year run until Bewley died following a heart attack. It is likely that the band will not reunite anytime soon.
More than anything, Pylon is the type of band that makes me grateful to have started Make It New. The new wave genre is such a curious affair and one that has produced a lot of great music. I’m still not sure exactly what constitutes a unified description. Maybe it’s more of an attitude, of playing against expectations and going in more experimental directions. If that’s the case, then Pylon is one of the purest bands I’ve covered so far. I’m excited to add them to regular rotation and check out their other albums. One can hope that the other entries going forward will be this fun and provocative, making you realize the potential of music can be something much more personal. Maybe you don’t change the world, but if you do it right you might get the right people listening to what you have to say.
Coming Up Next: The Police – “Oulandos d’Amour” (1978)
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