Thin White Rope - The pioneers of desert rock

Anomalies, singularities. A concert in Moscow broadcast live on national TV, a cover of Italy's own Avion Travel used as the soundtrack for a Wertmuller film, a singer who abandons his career to pursue research at the Botany department of a Californian university.

Exceptions, oddities. This and more besides were the Thin White Rope.

Anyone who spent their youth in the Eighties knows well how hard it was to stay clear of the trends of the time, as all-consuming and insatiable as in no other era; especially in music, where synthesizers reigned supreme and image, at times, mattered more than substance. Luckily for us die-hard rock fans, this period was also the cradle of independent music, of "alternative rock". Acts like R.E.M., Husker Du, Meat Puppets and Sonic Youth emerged in this period, dictating new sounds and styles destined to become influential, before rising, in the following decade, to major-label glory.

It was hard, as we said, to stay clear of the prevailing trends. But actually managing to break away even from the successful trends within the independent scene just mentioned, truly setting oneself outside every mold, was the stuff of either mad utopians or unblemished rock legends — or perhaps both at once.

The legend of the mad Thin White Rope is bound to keep growing over time, given the obscurity that has always surrounded their original sound. Unique for those times, and unique full stop, since they never spawned any acknowledged disciples. Bold, too, for managing to go beyond that movement known as the Paisley Underground which, in the mid-Eighties, dominated the Californian scene and seemed to be the only viable path for anyone dreaming of achieving a measure of success while still making good, honest psychedelic music. But Thin White Rope were never interested in the spotlight, and soon broke away even from the Paisley movement's tempered acidity to take on their own well-defined, personal shape — and, as a result, condemned themselves to obscurity. Leader Guy Kyser's vibrato was too hoarse and devilish to indulge the soft dreams of young American college kids, the guitar interplay between Kyser himself and his trusty squire Roger Kunkel was too wild and clattering, and the lyrics too introspective and unsettling to guarantee them even a fleeting spin on the most popular radio shows.

Kyser and Kunkel, the only two permanent members of a band with an ever-changing rhythm section, like two modern-day Don Quixotes and Sancho Panzas, tilted in vain at the windmills of the record industry with a utopian vision that was naturally defeated by the laws of commerce, but which is destined for everlasting moral victory in terms of quality.

A childhood in the desert and the break from Paisley

It is to attend the Geology department of the local university that the young Kyser (born in Austin in 1960) arrives in Davis, California, after a long stretch spent on the edge of the Mojave Desert (in the town of Ridgecrest). His passion for nature in general — the land, rocks, plants — would prove significant, as we shall see, both for his personal story and for his artistic one.

In the university town near Sacramento he meets Joe Becker, already the leader, alongside Scott Miller, of a band called Alternate Learning, which had released a single much admired by Kyser. Their first meeting takes place in 1979 at an Iggy Pop concert (one of Guy's main influences), which ended (so the story goes) with a brawl on stage between Iggy himself and Becker.

The friendship bore its first fruit (albeit unripe) when, in 1981, Kyser formed his first band, the Lazy Boys, with the same Miller and Becker. Several shows in Sacramento and San Francisco, along with a handful of songs that would later appear on the debut album ("Down In The Desert", "Disney Girl", "Soundtrack"), are the precious legacy of this formative period.

Miller left in 1982 to form Game Theory, and guitarist Roger Kunkel (a computer science student at Davis) joined the band alongside Kevin Staydohar (who, together with Becker, would go on to join True West starting in 1983). Miller and Becker would later reunite in Game Theory.

Game Theory and True West, together with the more celebrated Dream Syndicate, Green On Red, Giant Sand, Rain Parade and Long Ryders, represent the pinnacle of the Paisley Underground movement that had its epicenter right here in Davis. But, as already mentioned, Thin White Rope's relationship with neo-psychedelia begins and ends here, with this web of crossovers within the band's original lineup. From this point on, strictly speaking in musical terms, it's an entirely different story.

This is where the foundations are laid for a decisive break from the path already trodden by others, and for the construction of a sound that is as new as it is ancient — and, precisely for that reason, truly timeless. From the very start, the band shows greater artistic maturity than its fellow locals, drawing as much from the historical wellsprings of "American music" (country and blues) as from the revolutionary innovations of the 60s (psychedelia) and 70s (punk and new wave), and makes a name for itself locally thanks to the expressive power of its overwhelming live shows (held mostly at a pizzeria called Fat Fonzie and at Galactica 2000, a space-themed disco).

Kyser lives alone in an old motel near the Davis railway tracks, and it's there that he starts writing songs with western and country themes. After Staydohar and Becker depart (the latter only temporarily), the lineup is completed with Steven Tesluk on bass and True West's drummer, Frank French, as temporary support.

With this line-up, in the spring of 1984, the band records, in a single day, a nineteen-song demo that stirs considerable anticipation among industry insiders.

Joe Becker returns to the fold in 1984, and a call from Frontier is the best possible gift for Kyser, then still finishing his degree, in early 1985.

The name the band finally settled on is one of the most ambiguous ever used by a rock band. While it's true that Thin White Rope is the metaphor used by writer William S. Burroughs in "The Naked Lunch" to describe male seminal fluid, according to some it also outlines the invisible bond that can connect strangers to one another. Others, finally, will arbitrarily read into it a macabre reference to the rope used for hanging.

At this point, the band's expressive language is already fully developed and deeply rooted in the two leaders' layered influences.

Kyser is a fan of Stooges and Velvet Underground, as well as an enthusiast of Big Brother & The Holding Company, Ramones, Sex Pistols and 60s garage bands, while Kunkel is a devotee of country music. The result is a crossroads between acid rock à-la Quicksilver Messenger Service and New York new wave (Television), marked by a deep interplay between the two guitars. A genuine exchange in almost jazz-like terms, since Kyser's and Kunkel's instruments literally converse with each other (the distinction between lead and rhythm is dissolved), complete with pauses, sighs, whispered phrases and screams, leaving the rhythm section the task of keeping a firm hand on the wheel.

The stylistic adjustments, album after album, will be almost imperceptible (though still significant), never real upheavals, revealing the consistency and original clarity of purpose of the band members. The result is a consistently high quality level, which will make preferring one of the first four albums over the others purely a matter of personal taste.

Expressionist neo-psychedelia

Immediately pigeonholed by critics as "desert rock", the debut Exploring The Axis (Frontier, 1985) is less an impressionistic sketch of atmospheric suggestion than a genuine work of expressionism, in which it is the artist's subjective vision, his introspection, that imprints itself on external reality, altering its features and distorting it. The protagonists here are not sand, heat and vast untouched spaces, but the isolation and alienation of the individual. Kyser's tormented, quavering voice is the expression of existential unease — it's Munch's "The Scream" brought to life — while the six-string dispute between Kyser himself and Kunkel becomes a tormented inner dialogue through the dark recesses of the human psyche.

The sound here is decidedly more acidic than it will be in the future, sharper and more abrasive, drawing (as mentioned) on both the lashing gallops of Quicksilver and the cultured languor of Television. The fast rhythms feed off punk's wellspring (see the hiccupping "Eleven" and the "fake" traditional "Soundtrack") and provide points of contact with contemporaries Meat Puppets.

The opening "Down In The Desert" fully expresses both the band's sonic philosophy (perfectly blending the psychedelic soul with the new wave one) and its desert poetics, where the connection to the desert is, as already mentioned, purely an ideological impulse. The inner desert of modern man, rather than any literal evocation of arid, desolate landscapes. The emotional side of reality as opposed to objective perception. The cry of a soul gripped by anguish. Kyser himself will reject the literal reading of "desert rock", stating that, in fact, his songs feature plenty of natural imagery beyond the desert: hills, oceans, icebergs, stars, planets, and so on. Another misconception worth clearing up concerns madness as the sole driving force behind the impulses narrated in the songs. Fools and visionaries are certainly present in this album's lyrics, but, as time goes on, Kyser will tend to move away from the subject in favor of themes such as old age, friendship, and so on.

All the compositions on the debut are by Kyser, except for the aforementioned "Down In The Desert", co-written with Becker (notable for its sweeping rhythm section and pulsing drums), the title track with Tesluk, and "The Real West", written four-handed with Kunkel (his is the fast country and western-style intro). "The Real West" itself, together with "Dead Grammas On A Train", is a sarcastic rereading of the myth of the Old West in the cinematic vein of Sam Peckinpah and Sergio Leone (it's no coincidence that Kyser's favourite film is "Once Upon A Time In The West"), and foreshadow the sound that would come to define In The Spanish Cave.

Kyser is particularly fascinated by the idea of revelation, the sudden illumination that clears the mind and allows for a deep understanding of things. This impact is evident in the unsettling arpeggiated cadence of "Lithium" or the hypnotic pace outlined by Tesluk's metronomic bass on "Disney Girl", where the routine circularity is torn open by flashes of Kunkel's sudden lysergic solos.

It's worth noting that the original vinyl version released in Europe (on the British label Zippo/Demon) differs in that it includes Kunkel's amusing fingerpicking piece Roger's Tongue, while the CD edition also contains the entire Bottom Feeders EP. Variations in tracklists across different formats and editions would be a constant throughout the band's discography, and a pleasant torment for all fans.

Stagnant acidity

The debut album receives good reviews from critics, and the following year the same line-up gives birth to Moonhead (Frontier, 1986), a less passionate and more deliberate record, less intense and more static, steeped in a desolate spleen from which there seems to be no way out.

The tempos slow down, Kyser's vibrato becomes the oracle of a lost youth, and the guitars stagnate in a Dead Valley scorched by the sun of a blazing noon.

What comes through in the grooves of the record is a complete estrangement from reality. The sound is obsessively circular, hypnotic, and punk's frenzy succumbs to the acid torpor of the guitars, which sketch out desolate landscapes. But here too, the desolation is above all an inner one.

"Not Your Fault" lays out all these elements right from the opening: overbearing drums up front, distorted guitars, the singer's epic vocal tones, and a sickly loop generating constant anxiety. The tension reaches its peak immediately with paranoid guitars buzzing relentlessly, like the flies in certain horror films that force their way into some poor soul's ears and drive them mad. What stands out is the chorus, very catchy without losing any of its power, thanks to the rhythm section's usual solidity. The circular loops return in "Wire Animals", a more disenchanted, almost cheerful track, with clear Paisley Underground influences in the acidic jingle-jangle of the guitars.

"Thing" is a one-off in the Californian band's discography, one that clearly highlights the traditional roots of their sound. A slow acoustic number, just guitar and voice, in the most classic Americana style, somewhere between country and folk, where even the vocals match the clear, crisp atmosphere, becoming more subdued and gentle. The shadow of unease is relegated here to a distant echo of distorted guitar that only takes shape in the finale.

The group's collaborative, collective songwriting approach yields the masterpiece "Moonhead". A hypnotic, very new wave bassline repetition, over which a growing guitar chirp creeps in to provide the usual dose of anxiety, betraying the nervous influence of Tom Verlaine. Then, when the vocals come in and the drums start hitting hard, the chorus expands, taking on epic contours with a long guitar charge that crosses paths like a more carnal Built To Spill. It's a track that always seems to return to itself, in a bewitched, eternal return.

"Wet Heart" is a sepulchral midtempo number suspended between psychedelia and hard rock, built around Kyser's hypnotic, cavernous delivery, with the metronomic drums keeping the listener trapped in an anguished state of suspension. "Mother" also lingers with its cautious, wary pace, the bass hinting at bursts of neurosis — a sort of pink panther fallen into a vat of LSD with a splash of kraut-rock. "Come Around", by contrast, is wound tight, a wild proto-punk rockabilly number in which the guitars chase each other at a furious pace. It's an anomalous track within the album, one that flees, for a few moments, its inner isolation to scream out its own unease and rage with the furious energy of a solemn bender.

And, after the escape, one can finally stop for a moment to dream with "If Those Tears", almost a funeral litany with its constant rises and falls of guitars and voice, through which seeps a kind of messianic wait for the usual revelation that tears through the veil of darkness. The ideal foundation for Kyser and Kunkel's guitar arabesques, in a sort of long ride through the desert heralded by the opening solo, is "Take It Home", especially in the long version included on the CD reissue (which also features 4 tracks from the Bottom Feeders EP), which, beneath its free-form surface, conceals the meticulous studio work of Kyser and co. in bringing out the instrumental dynamics.

Overall, however, the record plays on atmospheres rather than dynamics and comes across as darker than the debut ("Moonhead is nothing but my alter-ego, my dark half", Kyser would later state), drawing on melancholic, languid sounds. Although considered by Kyser himself to be the best of the band's early career, it can at times feel excessively long-winded and monotonous, lacking the explosions of Exploring The Axis or the kaleidoscopic sonic variety of In The Spanish Cave.

From isolation to the colours of the countryside

The 1987-88 period is the classic era of Thin White Rope, with the album In The Spanish Cave sandwiched between two fine EPs (from here on, the band would keep up the habit of interspersing them between their proper albums, as milestones of their stylistic evolution): Bottom Feeders and Red Sun.

In autumn came out Bottom Feeders (Frontier, 1987), which saw Tesluk replaced by John Von Feldt on bass and combines original tracks with two excellent covers. The first is Jimmy Reed's apocalyptic blues number "Ain't That Loving You Baby", gloomy and demonic, with rockabilly guitars rousing a drunk and restless Elvis from the grave. Here Kyser's voice is that of a werewolf hungry for blues and thirsty for country. The second is the epic "Rocket U.S.A", recorded live on 22/12/1985 for the KPFK radio show Twelve O'Clock Rock, which definitively settles the band's debt to post-punk. Over the powerful introductory bassline, Kyser's and Kunkel's guitars clatter and overlap. Then, towards the end, the drums come to a halt to make way for the track's guitar drift, a thunderous derailment of a train hurtling towards a collective "suicide".

There are four originals. "Macy's Window" (a bonus track on the cassette version of Exploring The Axis) is a fast acid rock number built on rock'n'roll rhythms, heralded by a sort of obsessive mosquito buzz and closed out by a surf-style vocal chorus; a highly rhythmic track, at once powerful and catchy, distinguished by a (rare, almost unique) spoken-word chorus. The chirping "Waking Up" had originally been recorded as a bonus track for the cassette version of Moonhead. Rounding out the picture are the psychedelic country of "Valley Of The Bones", carried by a sharp, paranoid guitar and a thick backing chorus, and "Atomic Imagery", a kind of stoner-flavoured R.E.M., also featured on the US edition of Exploring The Axis.

Bottom Feeders would later be reissued in full on the UK edition of In The Spanish Cave.

In The Spanish Cave (Frontier, 1988), whose cover pays homage to the Grateful Dead, is Thin White Rope's most artistically expansive album - both its strength and its limitation. Although still essentially rooted in country, every track here has its own distinct personality, reflecting the band's desire to break free of their usual expressive grooves. The most striking example is the astonishing "Red Sun", which, after a series of swirling Eastern-tinged sounds, delivers an unexpected stroke of genius by bringing in mariachi horns over a finale set ablaze by the two leaders' guitar duet. After the heaviness of the drums and feedback, an oasis of calm suddenly appears like a mirage. Breathing space and openness. East and West meeting under a rainbow above scorching sand.

The switch to Von Feldt on bass is felt in rhythms that are more complex and varied than Tesluk's straightforwardness, starting with "Mr Limpet". A fine, fast acoustic country intro. Contrasts, ups and downs, stop-and-go dynamics are typical of their catalogue. This time the contrast plays out between the acceleration of the instrumentation and the slowing of the vocals, with a genuine, multicoloured instrumental explosion indelibly marking the midpoint of the track.

The sessions were the most turbulent in the band's history, due to various technical problems and the rivers of alcohol flowing during the wild nights spent with the other band recording in the same studio at the time, the Pontiac Brothers.

And yet there's no shortage of great tracks, like "Ring", excellent classic-style songwriting in its opening section, which then reveals itself as a bridge between tradition and alternative rock. The psychedelia of the Davis scene is far more elaborate and mature here, the songwriting denser, with moments of intense reflection. Worth noting is the guitar line before the vocals, which runs as a constant thread throughout the track. The mood of "July" is melancholy, a true delight in the summer warmth, beautifully delivered by Kyser, his vibrato under control, smooth, supple and more flexible than ever. Indeed, while on previous albums the frontman sometimes liked to ham it up vocally, parodying himself as a man/wolf, on "the Spanish cave" he wisely shows more restraint.

Then, of course, there are tracks that draw on country tradition (albeit transfigured); some with positive results, like the solemn "Astronomy", in that Morricone-esque old-Western style of dust and stares that had already marked some tracks on the first album, featuring a remarkable acoustic intro and unusual female vocalizations in the background. Or, again, like "Wand", which deceives with its straightforward 4/4 drum intro and a hazy arpeggio, before a mad, Howlin' Wolf-style howl kicks off a sudden shift in rhythm into a wild rockabilly stomp.

Other tracks, by contrast, come across as mere filler, like the sketchy "Ahr Skidar" and the metronomic "Timing".

Among the standout lyrics are those of "Elsie Crashed The Party", a frenzied psych garage punk number that, over the scorching thread of fire-forged guitars, violently attacks the music industry with the repeated, direct chorus ⟦Q1⟧. As Kyser himself explained, the line refers to the commercial battle between different publications to hype the chosen few, at the expense of bands with different ideas who get pushed to the margins of the fray. At the expense, we might add, of bands of far greater worth, like Thin White Rope.

If one criticism can be levelled at In The Spanish Cave (and, generally, at all the band's early albums) to help explain their relative lack of commercial success, it's the shoddy, rushed production, with cut-rate recordings that penalise the rhythm section above all. In particular, the drum sound on some tracks comes across as dull and mechanical, lending some weight to the accusations of artificiality levelled by some critics. It's no coincidence that the following album, made with a finally adequate budget, would allow fans to enjoy sharper, more intense sound.

Red Sun (Demon, 1988) also came out in the autumn, like Bottom Feeders, and confirms Thin White Rope's excellent form even in short-form releases, this time thanks to unexpected covers that make the band's image even more elusive and wide-ranging. First and foremost, buried under feedback, the gorgeous "Some Velvet Morning" by Lee Hazelwood and Nancy Sinatra. There's also "Town Without Pity" (Gene Pitney), "They're Hanging Me Tonight" (from Marty Robbins' Gunfighter Ballads) and the western-flavoured theme from "The Man With The Golden Gun" (the James Bond film with Roger Moore from the mid-70s).

Equally notable is the only track written by the band themselves, the acoustic, hypnotic version of the gem that gives the EP its title.

Songwriting Maturity

In an almost unbroken run of live shows, between late '88 and early '89 Thin White Rope were among the lucky few to play in the Soviet Union before the fall of the Berlin Wall. The opening concert in Moscow was even broadcast live on national TV - yet another clear sign of just how "different" this band was.

The majors were sniffing out the changing wind. In 1987 Husker Du had signed to Warner, as would, a little later, Rem, and at the very moment Sonic Youth and Meat Puppets made their big leap, the record-industry gods seemed to smile even on the neglected Thin White Rope. The label taking an interest in them was Bmg, which, under license from Frontier, signed them for two albums.

Sack Full Of Silver (Frontier/Bmg, 1990) brought yet another lineup shuffle, with Matthew Abourezk replacing Becker on drums, and the change pays off with a richer rhythmic layering. Steve Siegrist also joins Von Feldt on bass.

The main novelty of this album, though, lies in how it was conceived "on the road": the songs were written while traveling between the band's many shows and road-tested during those very trips. Despite the precariousness of this creative process, the "sack full of silver" betrays none of that fleetingness or fragility, as the band themselves confirmed when presenting the record: "For the first time we've made an album of songs shaped on the road. That doesn't mean they're flat. These are fat, round songs. Some are clumsy, others are sharp, as if they had magnets sinking them right to the core; others still are slightly pointed so they stand out from the rest. The best songs are shaped like a beautiful breast."

Very true. Because Sack Full Of Silver is, more than any other record in their catalogue, an album of actual songs. Compositionally, it can fairly be called a singer-songwriter record. It's no accident that every track is written by Kyser except "Hidden Lands" and "Triangle Song" (Kyser/Kunkel/Abourezk), plus the cover (the only one to appear on an Lp) of "Yoo Doo Right" (Can).

A more compact, mature, balanced record, one that reveals itself after repeated listens; less immediate, more deliberate. It loses the allure of mystery but gains the credentials of classicism, with less raw compositions and greater conviction. The guitars lose some of their edge but gain a deeper breadth, able to move past mere wild instinct and rebellion to open up a path that would be easier to follow in years to come. Crucial here was the presence of American Music Club's Tom Mallon as producer, who sharpens and tightens the sound with real clarity. That polished production, though, also manages to conceal, behind an apparent harmonic unity, a fraying of the bond between the band members.

Kyser is tired. Tired of the long guitar solos, tired of the wall of feedback that soaks the band's sound in their live shows. He's after a more layered acoustic effect, and so he takes authoritative control of the band, limiting the other members' room to contribute — especially bandmate Kunkel's guitar parts — and working heavily on the arrangements.

It's precisely this obsessive care for arrangement, this meticulous filing-down in search of perfect balance, that gives the record, by contrast, a density and cohesion never heard from the band before. Already on the opening "Hidden Lands" our ears meet gentler sounds and greater attention to melody, with jingle jangle guitars stripped of grit and a more reassuring voice gently cradling us. The impact is no longer feral but considered, filtered. Even the incipit of "Sack Full Of Silver" is decidedly singer-songwriter in spirit: hushed, inspired, evocative, delivered in a warm, deep timbre.

This is a work as Mitteleuropean as it is American. The stars-and-stripes spirit is evident in the epic "Americana" (aptly titled), with its acidic opening and old-West atmosphere, confirming how, on this record, the guitars — ever-present as always — are kept firmly in check, in a kind of battle between reason and madness. The Mitteleuropean cultural humus, on the other hand, comes to the fore in the cover of Can's "Yoo Doo Right" (trimmed down by a third from the original), which showcases new drummer Abourezk's superb work on tribal rhythms. The track's structure is a perfect example of the sonic layering Kyser had been dreaming of, though live it too would become a symbol of the band's fevered visionary streak. Fittingly, there's a relevant comment from Kyser's liner notes for "The One That Got Away": "I had a dream where, while we were mastering the live album, I heard a little girl talking next to the mixing desk. During the creaking guitar coda of 'Yoo Doo Right' she said: 'Mom, this sounds like goats.' Special thanks to everyone who's actually told us our sound reminds them of goats."

The liner notes for Sack Full Of Silver, meanwhile, offer some priceless remarks on the songs themselves, revealing a search for narrative, for the chronicle of real lived experience, rather than the usual appeal to inner feeling. "Diesel Man" in primis grew out of a seemingly trivial episode. After a show, as the band was heading back to the hotel, a homeless man was yelling into a phone, gesturing wildly in the silence of the night. In Kyser's artistic vision he turns into a distant sonic point drawing slowly closer, carried along by the guitar strings and his own gravelly voice. "The Ghost", which is actually an uncredited cover of the classic "Amazing Grace", "pops out of a bottle of vermouth in Groningen" with the ghost of the title conjured up by a few notes scattered on the wind.

"On The Floe" is "a frozen Swedish lake" built on "a mammary pentatonic structure." We have no idea exactly what Kyser means by that enigmatic phrase… Either way, it's a track that wraps you lovingly in its arms just like a mother with her child. Bright, airy, open, with the atmosphere of a classic American Sunday picnic that stretches out and seems never to end in an epic drum crescendo/decrescendo.

And then there's "Whirling Dervish", which according to the band "starts out like a pointless musical, a 1930s-style song Daffy Duck might have sung in old cartoons", though to us it recalls more of a mystical Eastern dance that then darkens with grim fuzz echoes.

"A sack full of Christmas cheer from Moscow." That's how they describe "Triangle Song", for its dreamy, suspended arpeggio in the style of Pink Floyd, echoed several times throughout the track. Intense, moving, passionate.

In closing their presentation, the band writes, tongue in cheek: "We've included the usual number of mistakes to set the evil spirits free." On this record, though, there are precious few mistakes to be found, if any at all. This is the album of their definitive maturity, varied, and even more than its predecessors beyond fashion, and precisely for that reason an important record, destined to endure and to be reappraised. One to rediscover.

Internal tensions, live explosions and decisions of the heart

The mini Lp Squatter's Rights (Frontier, 1991), released after a long world tour, is made up entirely of covers recorded in two separate sessions: the Duke Ellington standard "Caravan", the Diddley-esque "Roadrunner", Hendrix's "May This Be Love", and the Byrds-style "Everybody's Been Burned" (from the tribute album of the same name) and "I Knew I'd Want You".

What's truly surprising, though, is the “semi-cover” “Film Theme” by Italy's own Avion Travel. And here a more detailed explanation is needed. For Lina Wertmuller's 1989 film “In Una Notte di Chiaro di Luna”, Guy Kyser had been called in to write the lyrics for the closing theme composed by Avion Travel. The version included on Squatter’s Rights is a new instrumental arrangement. Would you ever have imagined that?

At this point, Thin White Rope's trajectory is stuck in a souplesse that seems to lead nowhere. After four years of non-stop touring for 6-7 months a year, sales aren't growing and even concert audiences seem to be shrinking. All of this only sharpens the internal tensions caused by the clashing artistic choices between Kyser and the rest of the band. Studio work becomes exhausting, with endless rehearsals and constant changes. Inspiration is lacking. To finish the new album, Kyser holes up alone in a motel outside the city for a week without telling the others where he is. The new album gets finished right at the last minute. And it shows.

The Ruby Sea (Frontier/Bmg, 1991) is certainly the least lofty point (albeit the last) of the band's career; and we stress "least lofty" because the quality level, even here, never drops below a passing grade. The album draws on the contrast between sea and land and, while well played (Stooert Odom steps in on bass to positive effect), comes across as rather flat.

Country sounds take center stage again with “Bartender’s Rag” and the dreamy “Christmas Skies”, whispered and gently rocked by the slide guitar. Kyser's incredible voice still manages to lend charm to tracks like the title track itself and the acidic “Midwest Flower”. The melancholic “Puppet Dog” wins you over instantly, and “The Fish Song” is a dark ballad that dulls the senses.

The guitar dialogues, however, are less lively than usual, and the sonic focus feels blurry. To add a bit of shine, it's necessary to pull “Tina And Glen” from the first demo, dated 1985.

Coinciding with the announcement of the band's breakup, the release of The One That Got Away (Frontier, 1993) is the best possible seal on its career. It's a double live album recorded in Ghent, Belgium, on June 28, 1992, during the final tour (with the lineup of Kyser, Kunkel, Abourezk and Odom), conceived as a long excursion (nearly two hours) through the band's entire journey; it also features two covers unavailable elsewhere, the traditional “Wreck Of The Ol’ 97” and “Silver Machine” by Hawkwind. The choice of a performance in the old continent symbolically and rightly attests to the thoroughly European (Italian in primis) reverence for this oddball band, more so than American.

The two CDs contain the entire exceptional show at the Democrazee (a club with a maximum capacity of 300 people…) except for “The Ruby Sea” and “Moonhead”, which would be released separately as a single, and “Thing”, still unreleased in this version to this day. In terms of artistic significance, it undoubtedly deserves to be placed alongside the other great closing live statement marking the end of an era in alternative rock, the memorable “Live At The Raji’s” by Dream Syndicate.

The headstones of an eight-year-long adventure are inevitably set by the compilations. There are two, complementary ones, able to satisfy every taste between them.

The traditional When Worlds Collide (Birdcage, 1994), whose title comes from the lyrics of “Tina And Glen”, gathers some of the most significant tracks from all five studio albums (with excessive overlap from The Ruby Sea) and from the EPs (including “Down In The Desert”, “Moonhead”, “Macy’s Window”, “Triangle Song”), plus the aforementioned “Some Velvet Morning” and Rocky Erickson's “Burn The Flames”, taken from the tribute album “Where The Pyramid Meets The Eye”.

Spoor (Frontier, 1994) instead offers rarer material: the entire Red Sun EP, various singles, the Sub Pop-issued 7-inch released in late '91 containing a blisteringly powerful version of “Little Doll” by the Stooges (recorded three years earlier in Germany) and a brilliant fake Stooges original titled “Ants Are Cavemen”. There's also a cover of Bob Dylan's “Outlaw Blues”, the traditional “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen”, recorded live during a show in St. Louis, and a handful of demos (including the Velvets-indebted “Here She Comes Now”). And here too, “Some Velvet Morning” and “Burn The Flames” make an appearance. Among the oddities: “Eye” by Chicago's own Poster Children (a "fair trade" of covers that saw the latter reinvent “Down In The Desert”) and a live version of “Moonhead” renamed “Skinhead”. The demo version of “Munich Eunich”, meanwhile, has the distinction of being the only track recorded by the band's first bassist, Kevin Staydohar.

The cover art is a cult object in its own right too, the work of Joe Sacco, the Maltese journalist and comic artist known for his stunning artistic reportage from war zones like Bosnia and Palestine.

Thin White Rope's farewell marks the definitive (or near-definitive) end of all its members' musical careers. What follows amounts to very little, compared to the potential that could still have been realized.

In 1996, Guy Kyser formed Mummydogs, who would release a decent self-titled album (Frontier, 2002), steeped in Morricone-esque atmospheres, with the kind of light-and-shade typical of Nick Cave, spiced up by the vocal contributions of Guy's wife, Johanna. Also worth noting is Kyser's guitar appearance on “A Sud”, featured on the Yo Yo Mundi album “Percorsi di Musica Sghemba”.

Roger Kunkel would devote himself full-time to a new jazz-blues project called Acme Rocket Quartet, which yielded three albums: “Acme Rocket Quartet” (1996), “Ultra-High Frequency” (1997) and “Sound Camera” (2004).

The band's last bassist, Stooert Odom, would go on to play with Graves Brothers Deluxe, whose 2000 record, “Little Love Things”, featured guest appearances by Roger Kunkel and Josef Becker.

John von Feldt will join the Walkabouts for a while, and Jozef Becker will play with the Loud Family, with whom he had already collaborated years earlier, right after the breakup of Game Theory.

Thin White Rope's choices were always dictated by instinct and feeling (as well as by the intoxication of the rivers of beer, wine and whisky flowing during rehearsals and shows). So it came as only a partial surprise when Kyser made the drastic decision to say (for good?) goodbye to music, retreating into the evergreen embrace of his first love, botany.

Today, Guy, now fifty-one, calmly pursues his career as a researcher at the Department of Plant Sciences at the University of California, Davis. Who knows if someone will ever manage to bring him back in front of a microphone.

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