“NUANCE ISN’T A NUISANCE” AN INTERVIEW WITH R.U. SIRIUS ON INFINITE GESTURE BY LYDIA SVIATOSLAVSKY
Musician and writer R.U. Sirius is the co-founder of the original cyberpunk magazine, MONDO 2000, a glossy glut of notes from the unsound on digital deviancy, irreverent ideas, and psychedelia that found so many filthy hands in the late 1980’s and 90’s. These days, though, the California-based artist is not so “loose-lipped.” R.U. confided his latest album release, Infinite Gesture (A Work in Progress), may have been preemptively neutered. “It's ironic because I designed Infinite Gesture to get a good response from what there is of an R.U. Sirius fanbase, and thus avoided any mockery of social justice excesses,” he admits. Not to say there isn’t any mockery embedded in these lyrics. R.U. has long led with humor, and this album is no exception. On Trump, he jeers openly, “He groped Tila Tequila in her swastika undies & still got the votes of the Christian fundies.” Critiques of the liberal left, however, are delivered more delicately, shrouded in wit or warble. “People and groups can benefit from being critiqued, satirized, and even ridiculed,” he maintains. “We can’t do it because stupid venal people do it. I understand that. But I reject it.”Sonically, Infinite Gesture is a collective effort, featuring Phr!endz, Steve Fly Agaric 23, and the revival of Mondo Vanilli with Blag Dahlia (of hardcore punk band The Dwarves). In the exchange that follows, R.U. discusses the messaging in the music and the dangers of dogma.
Let's start with the sonic substance: Distortion. Beatboxing. Harmonica. Disillusionment. The geography of the Infinite Gesture soundscape is vast and varied. Who are your influences?
RU: Well, I pretty much collaborate with whomever I can find as long as they don’t sound like Dave Matthews or Foreigner or some limp imitative modern jangly guitar crap. But recently I struck gold so to speak with very satisfactory results from Phr!endz and some others. The exception in this particular package—Infinite Gesture—would be the Mondo Vanilli/Blag Dahlia cut. I actively pursued working with Scrappi DuChamp under the name Mondo Vanilli back during peak MONDO 2000 days in the early ‘90s and thought it would be fun and maybe publicity-worthy to “reunite” for a “comeback.” We pretty much never came in the first place, a long story involving Trent Reznor, a mysterious retirement of a band manager and other things I can’t think of at the moment. And it goes without saying that if Blag wants to work on anything of mine, I’m thrilled. He used to be a guest cohost of the R.U. Sirius Show. Fun, smart punk man. Other than that, I feel the selection of songs for this particular package was my aesthetic statement. I feel it’s relatively “cyber,” (even acknowledging my MONDO history explicitly in one song), and it’s not very “rockist,” unlike most of the songs found on the other collection I like to push that I call Fake Fur. I think the opening number, “St. Jude Was A Cypherpunk,” sounds almost like some contemporary hit music (and I become afraid it will chase people away). Pizza T’s inclusion of harmonica in these techno sounds with Phr!endz is a great incursion, and the playing is choice.
Infinite Gesture features collaborative tracks with crypto junkies Phr!endz as well as Steve Fly Agaric 23, a drummer, poet, and enthusiast of Robert Anton Wilson. How did you connect with these artists? What did the collaborative process entail?
RU: Again, I feel the connection is that the styles are pretty contemporary. The Mondo Vanilli/Blag Dahlia collaboration, “I’m Against NFTs,” stands out as an exception, although the theme is very current. The style is sort of Beatles-esque, picking up on the “strawberry fjords forever” subtheme.
How does this album complement or contradict your previous output as a musician, lyrically and otherwise?
RU: Well, it’s not sexy or rock. I don’t toy dangerously with gender anxieties or subtly mock ex-girlfriends. Even the tendency towards radical-left-but-incorrect politics is somewhat muted. The playfulness, I think, is cranked up to 11. I think it’s likable.
On “St. Jude was a Cypherpunk,” the following lyric highlights your work with St. Jude, former co-editor of MONDO 2000: “They started up a crypto clique/It turned into a monster.” Meanwhile, “I'm Against NFTs” is itself marketed as a future NFT. There's a sense of playful ambivalence here. How has your outlook on cryptocurrency (and its potential for “sleaze”) evolved over time?
RU: Of course, the follow-up line on “St. Jude was a Cypherpunk” is: “Were they trying to make things right or just to impress Jody Foster?” So it’s not necessarily a warm embrace of crypto-cash. When I started the “I’m Against NFTs” song, NFTs were still a gold rush. The idea was pretty much ‘Fuck it, whatever a starving artist needs to do to get some cash is valid.’ As the market started to flatline, I started adding more directly satirical lines. My collaborators seemed to become more enthusiastic as the attitude got more hostile. Originally, it was intended to be sort of deadpan. I was reading a long and very good Andy Warhol biography at the time, and had that influence at the start.
The messaging expressed in “Live Free Or Dye Your Hair Blue” and the (as yet unreleased) “Live Free Or Dye Your Hair Pink” resonate heavy:
“What will you wear to the new civil war?” // “There ain’t no choices, just cacophony of voices.”
RU: It seems to me that we’re on the knife’s edge of total delirium right now, like any minute and closer than you think. I think, for example, the Christian Nationalist movement might skip the full Taliban stage and go full-on ISIS nihilism. Got A Whole Lotta Killing. So the new civil war is kind of on us. Read closely, “Live Free Or Dye Your Hair Blue” is sort of a satire of liberals’ and even leftists’ inability to fight off disciplined, well-trained, well-armed fascists.
Yes, the title suggests as much! In America, we’re supposedly free to express ourselves in increasingly individualistic ways, and yet we’re more vulnerable to external influence (and surveillance) than ever. The image reigns at the expense of meaningful change. Is this the “infinite gesture”? Where do you imagine the culture is headed?
RU: I hope Infinite Gesture works on multiple levels. Definitely virtue signaling as a replacement for actual effective action is one part of it. (Not that I’m particularly virtuously active either. I’m a very flawed observer.) I have one lyric I’ve been working over for ages titled “Say The Right Thing.” Hopefully what’s left out is implied. It’s so much a reflection of virtualization of culture. In virtuality, gesture is all there is. But I think the first resonance of the title of Infinite Gesture—and I hate to give resonances away but here goes—is to avant-garde art history. Thus, a central song in the lyrical presentation is “We Are Duchampians of the World.” (A recording of that is sort of in progress as well.) I’m really happy with the multiple resonances of the title…There’s also that massive doorstopper novel. And yes, ideas are being steamrolled by events. So the lyrics on “Live Free Or Dye Your Hair Pink” reflect the idea of being trapped, immobilized.
Speaking of saying “the right thing,” what is your relationship to censorship, both publicly and interpersonally? How has it changed over time?
RU: I was utterly loose-lipped during the 20th century. The rare angry response to MONDO 2000, for example, from someone “politically correct” was a source of mirth. As we get into the 21st century, there is much more of a feeling that people from the social justice area will come at you hard if you slide, according to someone’s perceptions. I don’t mean criticism. I mean people will try to cause damage. Even gently inquiring about a dogma can tag you as “one of those guys.” I’m a dogma-phobe, but I keep it pretty tucked in because engaging is too exhausting and I’m mostly engaged now in satirizing the far right… the immediate danger. When some on the social justice left are out to mint a new pariah, though, it’s more intimate. Right wingers will hate me, for instance, because I’m of Jewish heritage, leftwing, androgynous, and I dipped my toe into bisexuality. They don’t need to dig deep to condemn me. Left prosecutorial types will dig up everything you’ve ever said or done to paint a damning picture.
You call yourself a “dogma-phobe.” What sort of dogmas particularly inspire your ire?
RU: Well, I’ll share one example. I think that whole supposed rule about satire or cultural productions not “punching down” is intrinsically demeaning to the people it purports to protect. All humans are fallible, preposterous, delusional ad infinitum to varying degrees. All political alignments and movements are fallible, preposterous, delusional etc. People and groups can benefit from being critiqued, satirized, and even ridiculed. It’s a loss when intelligent people can’t make fun (I love the multiplicity of that term) of others (I love the multiplicity of that term). We can’t do it because stupid venal people do it. I understand that. But I reject it. Discernment is a quality worthy of pursuit. Nuance isn’t a nuisance.