Infectious Unease Radio
31 January 1999
reprint from http://www.infectiousunease.com

Hmmm, I'm not sure how far back in history I should go... When I was a little kid, I played violin in the orchestra for three years. Then, in high school, I started singing and playing bass guitar. Through college, I worked unsuccessfully with a number of musicians on several projects, mostly singing. My singing style primarily consisted of imitating other female singers or just plain screaming to be heard over guitar amps. I gave up on music for a while. Then in 1991, shortly after graduating from college, a friend inquired about how difficult it might be to learn to play bass. I offered to show him a few basics, and in the process of picking up my bass guitar again, I accidentally wrote the first "Delicatessen" song. My hiatus from singing had afforded me a fresh, more instinctual approach to vocals. Patiently, I continued to write solo for three years. During this time, I learned to sequence keyboards and to record. And that's basically how Bare Wire was born.

I'm assuming you're asking what I do/did in addition to music? Well, I've been a writer most of my life. I have five collections of poetry and short stories to my credit. People are sometimes surprised because the lyrics on "Delicatessen" are so simple (I prefer to use the word "distilled") but when I sing I can't control myself...I tend to focus on pure feeling and the sound rather than trying to tell complex stories or document detailed points.

Gee, did I mention my degree is in architecture? I never really went into the field though. When I graduated, the economy was in recession and I had a hard time finding work. To survive, I went into graphic design and architectural modelbuilding. You can see my handy work all over the cd, the press kit, and the eristikos website.

Complain about having to order off the kids' menu cause I don't even have enough money to eat -- the band thing is all consuming.

I was looking for a name that conjured imagery that I felt described me and my desperate singing. At the same time, it had to sound cool. (insert laugh here.) After going through dozens of lists of names, I settled on Bare Wire. I liked the word "bare" because it means exposed, and I feel my work displays a great deal of vulnerability. I liked the word "wire" because speaker wire carries sound and also because wire wrapped tight around the neck can kill you. And overall, I liked the metaphor of a thin, naked thread of metal carrying a charge, looks fragile but can be dangerous.

A fretless bass (that I built myself) and a keyboard (currently the Korg T2) -- but my voice is truly my instrument of choice.

It's really quite simple. I just wait until I'm feeling really bad, really overwhelmed, then as a matter of coping with it or as a matter of documenting it, I sit down and begin writing. I try to capture the lyrics and vocal melody in the first sitting. Sometimes, I then consider the song done; sometimes, not. If I feel I want to work on the song more, I'll sit with it again and again, perhaps even a dozen times, working on the music part mostly, adding layers, occasionally adding back-up vocal layers. Overall, the songs tend to be vignettes of a brief but powerful sorrow, and that's why they tend to be so short, raw and seemingly unfinished. I'm not looking to make any song commercially palatable; I'm aiming to capture my uninhibited feeling. Since my feeling is so vulnerable, I usually prefer not to embellish and therefore taint the purity.

pain and want and the sound of my own voice.

Misery seems to be my theme, and I really permit myself to wallow. When I sit to write, I hum and howl vocal melodies, all the while searching for a phrase or a sentence or two that best distills what I am feeling or thinking about. On "Delicatessen" it was typically only one or two lines, but lately my songs have more lines than that. Still, I usually gravitate towards simplicity when writing the words that I sing. Somehow, it just doesn't feel right to painfully moan a big fancy awkward-sounding five-syllable word. I also appreciate the power of admission and self-humiliation. Frequently, I find myself confessing in songs things I have a difficult time admitting to myself or things I would be ashamed or embarrassed to tell people that I perceive are judging me. And then oddly enough, once the song has been written, if it sounds beautiful to me, it's okay that people will know my secrets...perhaps my secrets are their secrets too. They can listen to me when they feel alone. With me in their headphones it's okay for them feel that way. And like a good cry, afterwards you feel a little better.

While there is no denying that books and plays are powerful, movies are by far the driving force not just in my creative work but in my life in general. For some, movies may be entertaining way to kill time, but for me, it is life-sustaining and can sometimes be mind-altering. To be hijacked by a really good movie -- the story, the acting, the sight and the sound -- is worth more than gold.

Really early on, I used to be influenced by all sorts of artists: either their singing styles, or the genres of their music, or their image. But it's been years since I've bought or listened to any music. I don't own a radio, so I've little idea about what everyone else is listening to nowadays.

At this moment, not really...but possibly soon.

Here are a few popular euphemisms:
* the soundtrack to your next suicide attempt
* songs for the terminally unloved
* ambient blues for the alternative music ear
* female being really sad, alone in the dark, with headphones and a microphone

I've produced or co-produced all the albums I've appeared on, including other projects like Urethane or the dance remixes with Wiremnky. All my work can currently be found through Eristikos.

Somewhat lukewarm. People either love it or they hate it, but most often, they just don't get it. Airplay is hard to come by because the music is so soft. As a result, spreading the word has become a difficult artform.

You know, it's been so long since I wrote the songs, that I've almost completely lost touch with what drove me to write them in the first place -- oh, not the types and depths of the feelings, just the person who inspired them. The songs were written about my infatuation for and the unfulfilling pursuit of a disingenuous guy named Henry. At the time I composed the songs, he was all that I lived for. But he really hurt me, and when he was finally gone from my life, I completed recording the album and dedicated it to him. Over the time since its release and exposure, I've laid my want for Henry to rest. The completion of "Delicatessen" marks the end of that chapter in my life.

It took almost four years to compose and record. (don't laugh)

For now, I'm pledging to continue with the minimalist sound. Since "Delicatessen," my songwriting and lyric writing have developed more, so songs may be longer and tell a bit more. I have a handful of songs right now but I'm not sure what will happen with them. I'm toying with the idea of percussion, but don't bet on it. Gosh, I guess I'm trying to say that I don't know.

I have not toured and have no plans on touring as of yet. There's actually a reason for that. First, I should interject here that I love to perform. But when I performed locally, I learned the hard way that the crowd has to be right. I can't just show up in a guitar band line up or at a noisy coffeehouse or bar, and just tear the house down. If people aren't expecting or desiring a soft sorrowful performance, they won't know or care that I'm on. My performance is so draining for me and so personal, that I would prefer not to go through it if it will be lost on an indifferent crowd. As a result, I've shyed away from any notion of touring because I don't feel confident that a receptive audience can be easily found city to city. But suffice it to say, that if an audience invited me to perform, I would not decline.

I had one or two really great performances that remind me when the crowd is right, a show is definitely orgasmic. One performance was actually at the "Delicatessen" cd release party, which was held at a record shop and promoted by friends. People were there to see a show -- not to drink beer or an espresso and to gab noisily. Half the audience was just sitting on the floor. I felt as if I was really exposing myself to them one-on-one, looking into their eyes because they were so close. The energy reverberated. The more they sat, silently looking at me, looking through me, the more I felt compelled to unveil what I normally hold private. It was moving.

Most of them: the ones where there is so much talking and commotion that no one can hear me and no one notices that I'm sitting there pouring my guts out on stage.

Well, first of all, I sit on the floor of the stage. I've been told that I shouldn't do that but I don't care. When you feel lowly, it's usually where you are, right? I'm by myself, barefoot and wearing a billowy black dress. To me, it looks and feels right. Second, I wear big studio headphones. I've also been criticized for that (they say I don't look as cool or that I seem disconnected from the audience), but to me, the headphones are crucial. For one thing, they are the most perfect monitors because I can turn them up real loud and they don't feed back or sound unclear. My performance is all in the singing. To feel good and to feel right, I need to know that I sound good and I sound right. When I hear my own voice, it builds my confidence and it inspires my performance. Plus, when I'm drowning in my own voice, I begin to relive the emotions and that enriches the performance. Sometimes, I lose myself in my voice, in my song and in my emotions. I forget the audience is there, watching. I motion and gesture, sometimes erotically, making morose expressions, and all the while, my eyes are closed. That's when the performance starts to border on voyeurism. Several times, tears welled up in my eyes -- it not only startled the audience, I sort of surprised myself, too. Suffice it to say, I don't dance around or bang on any instruments, but the show can be intense.

The cd is aptly titled "Fresh Cold Cuts: the Delicatessen Remixes"

it's okay to feel bad sometimes. ...and at the cost of sounding self-promotional, please support my work by buying a cd.

eristikös launched bare wire online in April 1996
this page design copyright © 1999 eristikös multi.media
timestamp October 2020