Music Arcades: Ut: In Gut's House

Somehow, sometime in the last year, Ut's In Gut's House cropped up in conversation. I think it must have been with Annie and Guy; I can't imagine who else it could have been. We swapped warm, appreciative comments. Yet I didn't feel compelled to dig it out as soon as I got home. I was happy to wait until its number came up here. And now it has.

At first I listened at my desk, via We7. The whole thing passed in a scratchy shouty blur. Then I got out my vinyl copy and listened on headphones late at night. That was much better, especially because I started with the second disc (the vinyl edition was two 45 rpm discs). There's more space on that disc, and some neat violin. Scratchy, but neat.

The added bonus of getting the vinyl out — for what must be the first time in two decades — is that an old NME feature dropped out. "I've seen Ut provoke violence, just by being three girls with guitars who aren't The Bangles or Suzanne Vega," writes Mark Sinker, in the 16th April 1988 issue, before explaining that

When they're good, [Ut are] like nothing else, taking risks no one else would take, rescripting the possibilities of three-piece rock, taking it somewhere new. But when they're bad, they're… difficult

Then there are the obligatory reference points to help readers fix in their ears what Ut might sound like. No Wave, Glenn Branca, Sonic Youth, Michael Gira all get name-checked, and then…

If we list the precursors — from Pere Ubu through DNA to The Raincoats, and from The Cramps to The Runaways — and a space too wide to pin them down [this was so typical of the NME, protesting the uselessness of an approach while indulging in it]. If we connected them with the dedicated maniacs they resemble, we'd find ourselves including Lydia Lunch and Robert Johnson, Lady Day and Richard Hell, Captain Beefheart and Kate Bush, Cecil Taylor and Diamanda Galas, Tim Buckley and Rickie Lee Jones. Scientist-hysterics all, a collection of people whose individual energies blow careful holes in careful history.

Gotcha. If any members of the Ut Fan Club read this and want a scan of the whole feature, drop me a note in the comments. Mostly the first disc reminds me of the song Kim sings on Sonic Youth albums, which, I have to admit, are mostly my least favourite (whereas the ones she whispers are often wonderful). Should I come to listen again in a decade or two, I'll remember to start with the second one.