By
Josh Potter
“My
mom has always told me, ‘You’re never going to make it
anywhere with that name,’” says Shane Sanchez of his band
Ghoul Poon. “But I’m like, dude: the Butthole Surfers.
Jackie-O Motherfucker. Holy Fuck has songs in commercials.”
The
formula’s quite simple: Take something Halloween-y and
add something anatomical. You know, like “Ghost Tits,”
or “Frankenstein’s Vagina.” Growing up in the Saratoga
area, Sanchez and his friends would kick around these
“fake crust-punk band names” for hours, without any plans
to use them. It was mostly a joke when Sanchez, in 2007,
scrawled the name Ghoul Poon on a CD-R he’d been up all
night recording, experimenting with his drum machines
and adding hazy reverb to twisted, chanted lyrics. The
crazy thing is that it kind of made sense. Ghoul Poon’s
music—and video work—is a dark industrial psychedelia,
a bad-trip fever dream of “Fatal Biology” and “Psychic
Car Ride[s],” a “Gay Satanic Picnic Sermon” not without
humorous camp, but certainly not without some seriously
disturbing shit.
As
Ghoul Poon, Sanchez has been the portrait of a prolific
DIY artist, quietly toiling away with broken gear, self-taught
sensibilities, and a brain full of cultural minutia. He’s
recorded more than 12 albums worth of material on his
label Lofi Kabuki, most of which are available for free
download (lofikabuki.bandcamp.com). He’s shot music videos
to accompany a good number of them, which he recently
culled for the DVD 100 Psychic Dreams. And he’s
become a fixture on the local experimental-music scene,
logging upwards of 50 shows at the Upstate Artists Guild,
often in conjunction with the Albany Sonic Arts Collective.
In the past month, though, Sanchez has taken Ghoul Poon
to the next level. With full-time backing band Severe
Severe, Ghoul Poon shared the bill on two of the biggest
area shows this fall: Sleigh Bells at Valentine’s, and
Dan Deacon and Lightning Bolt at Northern Lights.
“My
older friends were coming up to me at the end of the Lightning
Bolt show,” Sanchez says, “saying, ‘You guys sound just
like the Butthole Surfers and Joy Division!’ And I was
like, thank you, that’s exactly what I’m going for. It’s
finally starting to come across live.”
Sanchez
started out as a hip-hop artist, making dark beats for
Sub-Bombin Records (often with Josh Carter of Phantogram)
in the style of the Wu-Tang Clan. But then, in 2007, he
says, “I saw the 77 Boadrum thing and it changed my life.”
He’s referring to a legendary 77-drummer performance by
Japanese noise-rock band the Boredoms in Brooklyn on Sept.
7, 2007. After that, he started listening to the band’s
early material, as well as Sonic Youth, Suicide, Destroy
All Monsters, Goblin, Joy Division, and plenty of early
Butthole Surfers. The new influence posed a strange technical
hurdle. “I listen to noise rock, but I don’t know how
to play guitar, so I do it all with MPCs, samplers, Korgs
and synths and stuff. There’s a hip-hop thing there, but
it’s mostly No Wave.”
Onstage,
the members of Severe Severe reconstruct the material
with traditional rock instrumentation, but all of Ghoul
Poon’s records consist solely of Sanchez and his gear.
Bastard Sorcerer is his latest effort. Fuzzy bass
lines rumble under pugilistic drum loops, while kitschy
keyboards cradle Sanchez’s hypnotic free-associations.
It’s certainly experimental, but hardly inaccessible.
“At this point, noise is a genre,” he explains. “So if
you can take this weird shit and write pop songs, that’s
awesome.”
Central
to Ghoul Poon’s sound, and especially Sanchez’s video
work, is analog nostalgia, a preference for the raw, flawed,
real-time aesthetic of the pre-digital age. “I’m in the
last generation of people that remembers what it was like
before everything that you watched was on YouTube,” he
says. “What I do is very VHS. I make a lot of music, but
mainly what I want to do is audio-visual.” All of his
videos, which he uses for projections during Ghoul Poon
shows, are shot on a handheld video camera he got when
he was 14 and edited on a broken VCR. The quality is grainy,
the colors are oversaturated, and the scenarios are low-budget
surreal. He points to Harmony Korine, Andy Warhol and
PFFR (creators of Wonder Showzen and Xavier:
Renegade Angel) as influences, all artists with a
knack for making the viewer feel more than a little uncomfortable.
With
much of Ghoul Poon’s material, discomfort can quickly
turn to outward horror. Two cannibals hack bloody limbs
from a mannequin cop; someone performs close-up oral surgery
with a monkey wrench; a faux-Indian holy man conducts
perverse funeral rites with accumulated garbage. “I love
cheesy ’80s horror,” Sanchez says, “but what I really
love is crazy ’70s exploitation [like Blood Sucking
Freaks, the original Last House on the Left,
and Brazilian horror director Coffin Joe]. It’s all this
shaky-camera, campy bondage. Clearly [the filmmakers]
are having fun, but you wonder, where did they find these
actors and actresses? I’m not that dark of a person, but
for some reason I’m totally into that.” He names David
Lynch, Werner Herzog and Alejandro Jodorowsky as equally
influential.
Every
October, Sanchez says, he tries to watch 31 horror movies.
It’s a sort of ritual brain-warping, the culmination of
a year’s worth of exploration into the darker recesses
of the human psyche. And it’s a lot of fun. For three
years now, he’s used Halloween as an occasion to draw
other local bands into the horror, compiling and releasing
Ghoul Poon Presents Do the Fright Thing. “The first
one was me realizing a lot of people had Halloween-themed
songs,” he explains. For the second and third volumes,
he actually solicited material from certain bands. Horror-theme
aside, Do The Fright Thing is one of the more comprehensive
local-music compilations available, pairing B3nson Records
acts (like Desperately Obvious, Beware! the Other Head
of Science, Barons in the Attic, and Scientific Maps)
with Sub-Bombin artists (like Oddy Gato, Lo-fi LOBO, and
Firefighter Font) and others like Skeletons in the Piano,
Grab Ass Cowboys and Matthew Carefully. “I’m very into
local music,” Sanchez says. “There’s great hip-hop, punk,
weird electro, crazy noise. I hit up everyone I can think
of.” This year, he made the project national, inviting
bands from Seattle, Milwaukee, Brooklyn and Boston to
contribute. And it’s all free on his website.
“The
only way you’re going to make money [these days] is touring,”
Sanchez says, explaining why he extends his DIY approach
to music distribution. “That’s why my output is so crazy.
I’m not going to get signed or have a big break,” he says,
less in agreement with his mother’s observation than in
response to the humble plight of the contemporary indie
musician. “The last 10 to 15 years is the only time in
music history that no new music genre has been born. I
try really hard not to listen to anything new because
I don’t want to be influenced. I just want to be original.”
Ghoul
Poon will perform at 51 3rd Street in Troy tomorrow (Friday,
Oct. 29) at 7 PM with Casper Electronics and Sam Sowyrda.