A conversation with Martin Rev is an inspiring event. Let alone that he is one-half of one of the greatest musical duos of all time, engaging in conversation with the man tends towards thinking about the bigger subjects in life and art. To hear Rev talk about the absolute importance of meaning in your message as an artist and a musician is even more vital a clarion call than ever before. Rev, who was born and raised in New York City, along with Alan Vega, quickly puts things into focus. If you want to create great and lasting art, then you have to take a stand and say something for humanity. Otherwise, you are just creating nice and entertaining background music. Just like Suicide, the things Rev talks about remain timeless and more important than ever.

Suicide arrived on the New York City music scene in 1970, as the city was spiraling toward an economic collapse a couple of years later. It was a moment of transition as the late 60s counterculture revolution was suddenly on the run and disintegrating in front of everyone. Suicide emerged with such a mesmerizing and haunting form of punk rock music that they even get credited with starting post-punk and No Wave, which is funny because Suicide was one of the first bands to describe itself as 'Punk.' This all means that Martin Rev and Alan Vega were there from the start, and Suicide is one of the most significant bands in late 20th-century music. A quick run-through of some of the musical artists who have publicly stated their debt of gratitude to the duo Suicide reveals a long and distinguished list. Television, Public Image Ltd., Richard Hell, Patti Smith, Talking Heads, Cabaret Voltaire, Joy Division, Nick Cave, The KLF, Primal Scream, Mudhoney, Depeche Mode, Massive Attack, Autechre, Daft Punk, The Chemical Brothers, Aphex Twin, Moby, New Order, Radiohead, Thurston Moore, the Klaxons, MIA, LCD Soundsystem, El-P, and even Bruce Springsteen have all acknowledged Suicide as a musical influence on their sound.

Suicide established its legacy with its early confrontational live shows. Vega's on-stage antics, which included swinging a giant motorcycle chain around the small venues he and Rev performed, solidified their presence as punk rock badasses. As we all know now, they had something more lasting, which was a completely fresh sound with a message and purpose in their music. It was their first two albums, Suicide, released in 1977, and their follow-up, Suicide: Alan Vega and Martin Rev, released in 1980, that left the most impact on listeners. They created a sound that few had rocked yet. They performed sporadically over the next thirty-six years, both releasing more albums together while creating their own solo and collaboration projects. The two remained collaborators, tour mates, and friends until Alan's death in 2016. In the eight years since Alan's passing, the world has entered such a weirdly frightening phase of collective existence, and Suicide could provide the soundtrack to it all. The world desperately needs more artists like Rev and Vega right now.

Gabriel Kennedy: Suicide influenced so many bands—from huge musicians to tons of underground bands. You guys basically created the post-punk scene. I'm amazed at the timeless quality of your music, yet Suicide remains an underground phenomenon today. Why do you think that is?

Martin Rev: Yeah, I guess it sort of happens that way—kind of organically. As people get influenced by others, especially larger profile people, some people hear these things and get influenced by them, not knowing where some of the sources come from. Everybody's so media exposed and influenced that, especially a lot of people coming up, they take from what they hear, but they don't necessarily know or have listened enough to where people get their influences from. It happens in all the arts. You see a painter or a guy who writes music, and he can be a great writer or composer, but then you hear his sources and see where he got this from here and that from there. You don't really know that until you've listened a whole lot sometimes. You have to listen to them a lot, then their sources a lot, because it's subtle a lot of times. A really good artist who has developed that way will not always be that obvious (about their influences), or maybe it's really just for the ones who know. Or the ones who hear it. Sometimes, it doesn't hit your ears for a while, too. You could hear a piece for ten, fifteen years, off and on, and then you can hear, "Oh wow, that's where they copped that from there!" So, it takes time, but a lot of times, people don't get that far. They get what they want at the time, and they go with that.

GK: Looking at the scene that you guys came up in New York, and that musical interzone of punk, post-punk, no-wave, I've seen lots of interviews from those who were there describing the scene, so I'd like to get your take on what you felt the New York City scene was like back then.

MR: When we were starting, there were the remnants of the ending kind of vibrations from the 60s dwindling out in the early 70s. There was a period when it was very empty, during the early 70s. We were pretty much isolated. We were a concealed kind of scene; all the attention came later. You see, it was the seeds in the soil kind of fertilizing stage. There were groups around who started to come around, and after a year, there was Television, and those groups started doing their own little thing. Then the Dolls came (The New York Dolls), and they were also doing their own thing. They had a very strong British 60s thing happening, too, and so they were embraced early. It was a link between, say, what became punk and what was Brit-rock, bringing the fashions of the British scene to New York.

It wasn't a scene yet, but we were calling ourselves Punk music very early on. Our stuff wasn't even songs yet. They were like sections, three or four, that used to flow together, creating a total wall of sound. We would call our group different things for each gig. A couple of times, we played clubs like the Village Vanguard or the Village Gate. So, we were looking for stuff, and Lester Bangs—one of the most astute writers on the rock scene at the time, wrote an article for Cream magazine about Iggy Pop and the Stooges where he described them as 'Punk music.' So, we saw that, and Alan had read the article, and I said, "What about calling ourselves punk?" and Alan said yeah! Sounds great! So, at that time, there wasn't any real scene. We would get a gig here and there. A lot of clubs were closed. Max's Kansas City was en route to closing. It was changing ownership from the sixties. We got in there a couple of times on a showcase. It was not easy to get in, of course, because they were doing a lot of record label stuff at the time. Eventually, you had all these groups, and it was during the Vietnam War. So, when the war ended, it was a different mentality. During the war, it was a Dolls scene. It was a very colorful, unisex kind of scene. It was glam, high-heeled shoes on everybody, guys and girls. It was an incredible sight to see at the shows because everybody was dolled up. It was beautiful. But when the war ended, that whole kind of escapism of the horror that we were all in ended, and there was suddenly less of a need to be that colorful. It was getting back to more realistic concerns like getting a job.

So, something started happening, and CBGB's and Max's, and that was around 1971, and then by '74, journalists, artists, and photographers started going to those spots. By then, we were playing Max's about six days a week, and a couple of journalists came in and called it the punk scene. I don't know where they got it from, if they got it from Lester Bangs, if they got it from us, or if it was just in the air. So, they started 'Punk Magazine' which was like a newspaper mag at the time. And eventually, the mainstream press picked it up, and it was punk and punk music. But at the time, nobody was walking around saying, 'We are punks' It was a label thrown on by the literary world, and we all accepted it. As far as Suicide goes, some people tried to say we were not punk, but our attitudes were punk. Someone else once said about us that we were more punk than punk. He said it was because we were hated by the punks. It's cause we were breaking ground in a lot of ways. We were really more of an electronic thing, but the attitude that we had on stage we were perceived as punk. The setup of Suicide was not a typical punk format, like with the garage band guitar/bassist/drummer sort of thing. We came in, and there were no more guitars, drums, or bass, and we had a drum machine. As it turned out, then in that scene, we were one of the last groups to get signed. Though we were still a ways off from actual wider acceptance, it was still a great moment. It was New York. It was a phenomenon that happens only by nature. It was things that happen when you have an arts scene based on reality, which made it organic. You can't manufacture it. It was probably New York's last great movement in art and music.

They usually say it happens at the end of the decade. Things take seed at the beginning of the decade, and then it comes out by the end, but people don't realize that these artists have been germinating for six or seven years. For our scene, it was a great energy. Any night, you could go out to CB's or Max's, and it would be painters, artists, dancers, bar dancer girls who had a lot of artistic intelligence and aspirations—a lot of talking, drinking, and hanging out. It was really—it was a scene.

Today, I don't think you have that kind of scene, at least not in New York. The scene today is more independent, more individual. Electronic music is still the future, and it's still very much an empty frontier. And a lot of people working in electronics are really like individual composers. Of course, hip-hop was really the scene after punk, which definitely happened in the same organic way. Hip-hop became the next great scene out of New York and other cities.

GK: What did you think about the rave scene that came out of Brooklyn and Manhattan in the 90s?

MR: Yeah, it definitely happened, and it was a good combination of the technology and the drugs. I don't know off hand, and it takes time to judge anything, but as a music scene, I wonder if it is ultimately significant. But I don't know if punk is that ultimately significant, either. I do think rave as a dance music was definitely a chapter. It wasn't a performing thing, which is probably why it does not occur to me in the same way. Rap and punk were still on stage performing things with vocalists, but the rave scene definitely grew out of electronic technologies, too.

GK: On the topic of theater, did you and Alan frequent the Living Theater back in the day? Did they have any influence in terms of the more confrontational elements of Suicide's live performances?

MR: The Living Theater was a little before my time. Alan may have been a little more exposed to it, but I definitely knew about it. The Living Theater was the contemporary extension in New York of the concepts of Artaud, as well as the whole concept of total theater. They combined Japanese and Chinese theater, too. Iggy Pop was a great influence, too. Especially on Alan because he heard Iggy, and that made him want to get into art and start performing. So, The Living Theater, absolutely. They were in the atmosphere. When I was a kid, I remember hearing about their plays from friends. They did one play that a friend of mine had seen called The Brig, which he said was really strong. Before we met, my wife had worked at The Living Theater for a little bit of time. So yeah, The Living Theater was definitely a big influence. Again, a lot of these influences are insidious. They come out, but we never consciously knew of them, but they were in the air.

GK: Let's explore the idea of confrontation with an audience. Why do you think that hit so well overall for Suicide, as that confrontational style is one of the lasting impressions of your group?

MR: Again, I can mention sources: Artaud and Kabuki Japanese theater, which they used to call total theater, which is a combination of all the elements in theater—all the lights, action, language, word, music, and sound. The combination creates a total environment that wraps around the audience and captures the audience. This gives space for the audience to become involved and totally absorbed. And also, they no longer have an escape. It was the breaking down of the separation between the stage and the audience. And that's what was in the air—breaking down that separation, which was the next stage for theater. It was perceived sometimes as aggressivity, but it was out of that where there was the larger concept. And Iggy was a very big influence on Alan directly. Iggy made that an essential part of his performance to break down that line. It was coming out of the music of rock, which always had an aggressive edge from joy, too, when you combine the desire to create with that kind of theatrical environment. A totally captivating environment like that with that music had never fully been done before.

It actually goes back to the beginning of theater because there was an exorcism in the performance, in many ways, going back to the Greek origins. All stages in all types of art are an effort to get back to that basic intensity, which is what any great art does. It has an intensity that you cannot treat lightly. You can't just treat it like a background or an entertainment. That's what any great art does. So, the combination of music in the theater and closing that gap between the seats and the tables and the stage creates a natural aggressivity. In our case, the music was perceived as very aggressive, too. I'd say that it was a very positive aggression—doing essentially what had to be done by the artists themselves and doing what I had to do no matter what anybody liked. And that's the attitude you have to have to do your work. And that already gives off an aggressive vibe, especially if you have determination and certainty. And then, if you have something new, you're seen as even more aggressive. Because you are saying, "This is what it is, man". You're not telling people that by when they see you, they think, "Wow, this is the fucking future." I think it's all an essential ingredient that's there in theater and art. To create a total environment and to totally captivate.

GK: You mentioned exorcisms. To reflect on that a bit, what do you think is being exorcised? I'm thinking about the artist in the role of the shaman and the person who seeks to elicit an exorcism. What do you think of that?

MR: Exorcism is theater, also. The shaman is a great performer. It's a great theatrical event. A performance, especially something meaningful, pure, and really good, is an exorcism of all kinds of things. Performers feel that every time they perform well. You feel a change in your energy flow and circulation. Things open up that were closed before. You can feel more positive afterward. Standing in front of a large number of people and having that kind of communication like that and the environment, those lights, the sounds, it's very intense.

It's about trying to provoke future conversations and energy and visions of what could be. This is more dangerous for the world at large because it creates upheaval and chaos. It's usually the visionaries, the poets, the artists, the thinkers who sound the alarm to say when something is wrong. It takes time, but eventually, they get recognized.

GK: So, in terms of music and its relationship to the media at large. There has been a disintegration between mainstream and underground artists. We now exist in the musical landscape where there were once independent promoters, but now there are giant corporations who can afford to pay Madonna and U2 all this money. But at a certain point, what happens to the 'soul' of music in this ultra-spectacle?

MR: I think it's cool as a medium itself. But as the future of music, it's not necessarily that important. Rock music and punk music have significance for various reasons, along with their birth and organic life. That's not going to continue forever. So, the whole idea of rock bands performing on stage when they once had more of a cutting-edge, meaningful social and musical relevancy doesn't have that forever. We're in a period of that now, where a setting creates an entertaining spectacle, but it's not really the future of what is really the new art.

But everything we're talking about had its birth in the war in Vietnam and the rhythm and blues of black artists. And there was a sensibility, and the sensibility was of dealing with the struggle for Civil Rights. That's what gave rock its meaning. You had white kids from the South embracing black music and bringing it to a white audience. Now you had messengers—transplants who were white who were embracing black music. In the '60s, you had groups that were talking about a new consciousness to deal with this war mentality and power mentality of the military-industrial complex. That's where the drugs came in. Tim Leary' tune in turn on drop out.' But there was a meaning in the music. Music that was all based on the blues. There are different ways of using the guitar to translate the blues to white working-class cats, and it had never been done before that way. But it all had to have a social significance. The same way rhythm and blues and Motown and do-wop groups of the 60s once had more consciousness. It reached a pinnacle with Marvin Gaye and artists like him, who were very consciously speaking about the world and what's happening with war. The music was a vehicle for relating new messages. All of this created great music and great art. A scene is like a germinating organism. A lot of scenes around today are like fun, colorful spectacles, but what is the meaning?

Rock n roll on stage had that impact. That's what's missing. The real significance of music with a message and as a messenger to be a vehicle to give a message of change is not necessarily there. You're just getting a great night's entertainment. There may be other ways that the message gets transmitted now, and it may no longer get transmitted on stage.

GK: The media prankster and VJ Scott Beibin once pushed this idea that 'Scientists are the new rock stars.' How does that statement hit you?

MR: There may be some truth to that. If they have a humanitarian consciousness, if scientists have that, yeah, they could be, they could…but not rock stars, though. Of course, music is a craft. But they could do something great.

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FAQs About This Article

wherein an AI reads the article and suggests a few questions that remain unanswered...

Q: What does Martin Rev believe are the challenges and opportunities for musicians today in using their platform to effect change?

A: While Martin Rev doesn't explicitly address how modern musicians engage with pressing social and political issues in the provided interview, his emphasis on the importance of music as a vehicle for change offers insights into the challenges and opportunities musicians face in effecting change today. Drawing from his broader perspective on the role of music in society and the legacy of artists like Suicide, we can infer several factors that influence contemporary musicians' ability to address social issues:

1. **Commercial Pressures vs. Artistic Integrity**: One challenge modern musicians face is balancing commercial pressures with artistic integrity when addressing social issues. In an era dominated by streaming platforms and corporate interests, artists may hesitate to take controversial stances that could jeopardize their mainstream appeal or commercial success. However, maintaining authenticity and sincerity in their message can resonate more deeply with audiences and contribute to meaningful social change.
2. **Navigating Digital Platforms and Social Media**: The rise of digital platforms and social media presents both opportunities and challenges for musicians seeking to address social issues. While these platforms provide unprecedented access to global audiences and facilitate grassroots activism, they also amplify voices and perspectives, making it challenging for musicians to cut through the noise and convey their message effectively. Additionally, navigating social media's algorithms and content moderation policies can pose obstacles to disseminating socially conscious music.
3. **Intersectionality and Diversity**: Addressing social issues effectively requires recognizing the intersectionality of oppression and amplifying marginalized voices and perspectives. Modern musicians have the opportunity to use their platform to highlight diverse experiences and advocate for social justice across intersecting identities, including race, gender, sexuality, and class. However, doing so requires sensitivity, humility, and a willingness to confront systemic inequalities within the music industry and society at large.
4. **Collaboration and Collective Action**: Collaboration and collective action can amplify musicians' impact in addressing social issues. By partnering with grassroots organizations, activists, and fellow artists, musicians can leverage their platform to support tangible initiatives and campaigns for social change. Collaborative efforts, such as benefit concerts, fundraising campaigns, and collective statements, demonstrate solidarity and mobilize communities around shared values and causes.
5. **Cultural Relevance and Public Discourse**: Music has the power to shape public discourse and catalyze cultural shifts on pressing social issues. Modern musicians have the opportunity to engage with current events, social movements, and public debates through their music, lyrics, and public statements. By addressing topical issues and challenging dominant narratives, musicians can contribute to broader conversations about power, privilege, and justice in society.

In summary, Martin Rev's emphasis on music as a vehicle for change underscores the challenges and opportunities facing modern musicians in addressing pressing social and political issues. While navigating commercial pressures, digital platforms, and systemic inequalities presents obstacles, musicians have the potential to effect meaningful change by maintaining artistic integrity, amplifying diverse voices, collaborating with others, and shaping cultural discourse through their music and advocacy efforts.

Q: How did Suicide adapt their music to fit within or stand out from these shifting musical landscapes?

A: Suicide's adaptation to the shifting musical landscapes of New York City during the 1970s and 1980s involved both innovation and steadfast commitment to their unique sound. While Martin Rev doesn't explicitly elaborate on this adaptation in the provided interview, insights from their discography and historical context shed light on how Suicide navigated the changing music scene:

1. **Origins in Proto-Punk and No Wave**: Suicide emerged in the early 1970s amidst the proto-punk and No Wave movements in New York City. Their self-titled debut album, released in 1977, showcased their signature blend of minimalist electronic music, aggressive vocals, and avant-garde sensibilities. Songs like "Ghost Rider" and "Rocket USA" epitomized their confrontational and experimental approach, aligning with the raw energy and DIY ethos of the burgeoning punk scene.
2. **Influence on Post-Punk and New Wave**: Suicide's impact on post-punk and new wave became apparent in subsequent years. While their sound remained distinct, elements of their music resonated with artists exploring new sonic territories. The use of synthesizers, drum machines, and unconventional song structures anticipated the electronic and industrial elements that would define post-punk bands like Joy Division and New Order.
3. **Continued Innovation and Experimentation**: Throughout their career, Suicide continued to innovate and experiment with their sound. Their second album, "Suicide: Alan Vega and Martin Rev" (1980), further pushed the boundaries of electronic music and showcased their evolving sonic palette. Tracks like "Diamonds, Fur Coat, Champagne" and "Dream Baby Dream" demonstrated a more atmospheric and introspective side to their music, foreshadowing the dream pop and shoegaze movements of the 1980s and beyond.
4. **Legacy and Influence**: Despite their underground status, Suicide's influence on subsequent generations of musicians remains profound. Their pioneering use of synthesizers, drum machines, and unconventional song structures laid the groundwork for electronic and experimental music genres. Artists ranging from industrial pioneers like Throbbing Gristle to electronic acts like Depeche Mode and Nine Inch Nails have cited Suicide as a key influence on their work.

For more information about this time in New York City, check out the Spotlight On interview with Nic Dembling of Comateens. 

Q: What does Rev believe contributes to Suicide’s enduring underground status, especially considering their significant influence on various musical genres?

A: Martin Rev's perspective on Suicide's enduring underground status likely stems from a combination of factors. While Suicide undeniably influenced numerous bands across various musical genres, they maintained a somewhat niche appeal that prevented them from achieving mainstream recognition. Here are several factors that may contribute to Suicide's underground status, based on Rev's statements and broader insights into the band's legacy:

1. Experimental and Confrontational Sound: Suicide's music was experimental and confrontational, characterized by minimalistic instrumentation, repetitive electronic beats, and Alan Vega's intense vocal delivery. This avant-garde approach may have limited their commercial appeal, as it diverged from the more accessible sounds of mainstream music.
2. Artistic Integrity and Nonconformity: Throughout their career, Suicide prioritized artistic integrity over commercial success. They remained true to their unique sound and vision, even when it challenged audience expectations or industry norms. This uncompromising stance may have contributed to their underground status, as they were more focused on artistic expression than mass appeal.
3. Cultural and Sociopolitical Context: Suicide emerged during a period of cultural and sociopolitical upheaval in New York City, which influenced their music and artistic identity. Their confrontational performances and provocative lyrics reflected the urban decay and existential angst of the time. This contextual relevance may have resonated more with underground audiences than with mainstream listeners.
4. Legacy and Influence on Subsequent Generations: Suicide's enduring influence on subsequent generations of musicians is undeniable, as evidenced by Martin Rev's discussion of bands acknowledging their debt of gratitude to the duo. However, their influence primarily permeated underground and alternative music scenes rather than mainstream pop culture. While their impact on these scenes is profound, it did not translate directly to widespread recognition or mainstream success.