This morning came the terrible news of the death, at age 65, of Richard H. Kirk, who I have listened to and admired deeply for thirty-five years. This innovator of electronic music, beginning with Cabaret Voltaire in 1973 and including a staggeringly productive solo career, featuring many, many aliases, always put the music first and, for those who know, his body of work and his legacy is not just massive in scope and scale, but impressive in its diversity and ingenuity.
It had been planned to soon highlight on this blog Kirk's remarkable return as Cabaret Voltaire through the release through Mute Records in fall 2020 of the great album, Shadow of Fear, followed this past spring with the issuing of the drone recordings, Dekadrone and BN9drone. This trio showed that there was no diminution of RHK's forward-thinking, yet past-respecting, talents with the recordings made, by virtue of the failure of (somewhat) newer recording equipment, with old-school technology, but sounding fresh and vital now.
For months after receiving Shadow of Fear, that album was being listened to very regularly and such tracks as "The Power (Of Their Knowledge)," "Night of the Jackal," and "Universal Energy" being particularly powerful and compelling, though the recording is strong from start to finish. Whatever criticism Kirk received for reviving the name in 2010 without longtime collaborator Stephen Mallinder, whose tweet this morning expressed concisely that relationship between the two, he deserves eternal credit for releasing a record that built off the past while moving resolutely forward.
The Dekadrone and BN9drone albums are also really interesting offshoots of what he did in putting Shadow of Fear together and, in this pandemic environment with climate change making its visceral impact fully clear, these unsettling excursions into the netheworld of electronic manipulation are relevant soundtracks to the upheavals and uncertainties that are emblematic of these times.
Today is definitely a time to delve deeply into these sound worlds formed by a highly creative and particularly singular artist whose uncompromising devotion to his sonic architecture is deserving of so much more attention than he has received. Since 1986, when I put CV's Drinking Gasoline EP on the turntable and then spent days trying to wrap my young head around what was being projected through the speakers, I've regularly listened, absorbed and enjoyed the unique musical vision of Richard H. Kirk, who was influenced by so many, including the masters of dub like the late Lee "Scratch" Perry, who will be featured in the next post.
Kirk lives on through his remarkable music spanning close to a half-century and let's hope that he will continue to be heard and appreciated in all his diversity, aliases, and prodigious output.
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