Infinite Influence (by Defensive Listening)

"We weren't successful, but nothing can beat the feeling when a 15-year-old tells you: "Hey, I listened to Gang of Four, they are brilliant!" Man, that's just awesome!"-Henry Rollins quoted in German Music Magazine "Spex" on the reaction to his failed reissue label, Infinite Zero.






Is Henry Rollins responsible for the glut of derivative retro revival bands that have dominated the underground and mainstream music industries for the last few years? I originally thought he was only responsible for the parade of pseudo intellectual tattooed bullies that have dominated a lot of hardcore since 1984, but he might also be a key figure to blame for everything from Gang of Four sound-a-likes Bloc Party to the oxymoronic phenomenon of No Wave records digitally recorded on Pro-Tools. Don't get me wrong, I like a lot of things about Rollins, but I don't usually associate him with the current decade's trends.

This whole theory came to me while I was recently glaring at the disorganized state of my own CD collection. I noticed on at least every couple of rows, there was a ubiquitous blue band on the spine of certain jewel cases, signifying the disc as something to really take note of: An Infinite Zero reissue.

Infinite Zero was the noble pursuit by two well known music industry personalities, Rick Rubin and Henry Rollins, in the mid 1990's. I'll leave Rubin out of this, since his influence on modern music is much more obvious and annoying than Rollins'. Some have suggested that the label was a tax shelter or vanity project for the two principals, but I would take issue with either of those claims. Rollins actually gave up any kind of significant compensation for the project and instead opted for free copies of the reissues in lieu of payment, claiming that any other form of compensation would have forced the label to choose a mere ten releases for reissue instead of the twenty five that saw the light of day.

Of course, none of this kind of selflessness would have mattered if it weren't for the diversity and quality of the releases: Gang of Four. Alan Vega of Suicide. Tom Verlaine of Television. Monks. Trouble Funk. James Chance. In 1995, these names certainly didn't mean as much to as many people as they do today. To the label's credit, I believe the notoriety and infleunce of these visionaries is actually more widespread as a direct result of the reissuing of these records on Infinite Zero. Forexample, I recently found a music sampler for the American Eagle clothing store that was meant for in-store play, and it had a Contortions song on it. It's hard to believe that we live in a time where some of the most deliberately confrontational music ever made is pushed on the masses by a preppy outfitter like American Eagle, a place that is pretty lame by even mall standards. Although this particular example came about in part because of some dubious connection between American Eagle and the online Wal-Mart for hipsters, Insound, it was Infinite Zero that initially blew the dust off of that old "Buy Contortions" record a decade ago, assuring that it could be purcahsed at retailers that were just as unlikely to sell no wave as American Eagle was to play it.

I remember seeing the cover of "Buy Contortions" staring back at me in the crammed bins of Circuit City almost exactly ten years ago. All Infinite Zero releases had a weird white border around a shrunken version of the original album jacket, and the Contortions record features a picture of a girl wearing sunglasses and a shredded bikini. I remember thinking that the picture wasn't really sexual at all, but was instead kind of scary and off putting. The word "BUY" is written in this big imposing font right next to her head, and suggests an obvious visual satire on advertising and consumerism. After hearing that record, I realized that anything with that uppercase "Z" layered over an Infinity sign was going to be nothing like the stuff I heard on the radio in 1996. And even though most of these recordings were already decades old by the mid Nineties, they were actually years ahead of their time.

There is no exact method to prove just how much impact releasing this music has possibly had on the burgeoning throwback bands of the early 21st Century, but if you consider the styles that some of these artists helped establish, it starts to make a lot of sense historically. Garage Rock wasn't exactly hip in 1997, and Monks records were just a dorky record collector's dream. But then Infinite Zero released the legendary punk blueprint that was also one of the great musical anomalies of the sixties, and several years later, Monks are a commonplace name to drop during what is now the cooling stages of a full on Garage Rock revival. Gang Of Four are somehow their own genre, spawning so many copycat bands that you really can't even count them today. But I'm sure that just before the re-release of their debut album "Entertainment" in 1995, you could probably only find their album rotting on vinyl in an un-alphabetized stack at the back of Bill's. People were too busy listening to space-rock, rap-rock and Weezer to really care. I've watched a lot of these people and their music age rather ungracefully and get completely blind-sided by a group of No Wave savvy eighteen year olds on several extremely mismatched bills all around the country. I think that's a completely healthy step in musical evolution that could be traced back to being able to find an album by someone like Alan Vega at Best Buy. I think these reissues might explain the mysterious gap between a band like Hum being labeled the "hot new sound" not so long ago, and a band like A.I.D.S. Wolf receiving that same label today.

If you think this is a stretch, consider that if all the post-punk reuniting that's happened this decade had happened ten years ago, it wouldn't have been nearly as lucrative. Gang of Four actually did put out records in the Nineties to little or no fanfare. The members of Suicide were almost completely forgotten, but now if they put out a record, it would almost be a crime for all the usual music publications not to review it. I think Infinite Zero went very far in reinserting this music into the average music fan's consciousness. Do a "Set Search Criteria" on Myspace music and see how many bands pop up when you enter the query: Influences-Keyword: Gang of Four. I was surprised to find that the number of pages had almost caught up to all the typical mainstream acts. That's remarkable for a band that's never had a platinum selling record ,and it probably wouldn't have happened if their releases hadn't been made available at a reasonable domestic price. Devo was obviously more well known than Gang of Four, but even their key albums were out of print in the mid 90's. I hear a lot more Devo when I go see bands today than I did ten years ago, and it's strange to consider that it could indirectly be because of Henry Rollins.

In the end, Infinite Zero was considered a failed venture, and Warner Brothers cut Rubin and Rollins off from their pet project. The label even tried to release the first seminal Fall records to no avail. This would have raised their profile even more, and I wish I could count those among my collection. Rollins actually went so far as to release the Trouble Funk reissues for a second time on his own 2.13.61. imprint. Ironically, now that many of the Infinite Zero reissues are themselves out of print, I've seen them start to fetch collector's prices. But I can't be bothered with that right now, because I have the latest Futureheads record ready to listen to. I hear it sounds just like Wire.