Nullstadt Reunion
Mark Nowak Reading/Discussion
Hallwalls Contemporary Arts Center, Buffalo
May 17, 2007

By Kevin J. Hosey
It was a combination book reading and author discussion, band reunion and meeting of the tribe, a little older, grayer and somewhat wiser, when Nullstadt, or at least a good part of it, played its first show in years as part of the discussion on Goth, industrial music and their relation to Buffalo as noted in a new book by Mark Nowak at Hallwalls Contemporary Arts Center.
The evening began with Nowak, a former Buffalonian, professor, author, playwright and former local musician, discussed parts of and read from his new book, “Goth: Undead Subculture.” One of the chapters is entitled “To Commit Suicide in Buffalo Is Redundant: Music and Death in Zero City, 1982-1984.” Nullstadt took its name from two German words, null, for zero, and stadt, for city. Nowak focused on the band, the condition of the city of Buffalo at that point and of the existence, culture of and denizens of The Continental, 212 Franklin Street, way before the Chippewa Strip became a popular yuppie puke-on-myself-because-I’m-cool area.
Right to left: Kent Weber, David Kane, Donald Kinsman, Greg Gizzi
Nowak obviously has done a lot of research, because he was able to bring out facts and quotes that made me, yes, one of those denizens of The Continental, feel right at home. He discussed the decaying of Buffalo and its industrial factories and work force (no surprise that one of the offshoots of Nullstadt was named David Kane’s Decay of Western Civilization), as well as buildings and downtown, and how some musicians, artists and listeners forged a community among the decay. Nowak also played some very early Nullstadt songs (some of which I played on the air at WBNY 91.3 FM while at Buffalo State College, a couple I recorded for my personal collection) and discussed how they fit into the alienation and the fight against it, as well as how the songs were among the forms of communication the three original members of Nullstadt, keyboardist/composer David Kane; keyboardist, composer and vocalist Stephen G. Collins and keyboardist, vocalist and composer Donald Kinsman, used to address this situation.
Before he started the bulk of his presentation, Nowak showed a video created by Collins using Nullstadt’s early music as well as clips of programs, posters, old magazines and newspapers and what not to illustrate part of how the scene was known and communicated. After his presentation, he showed a video postcard Collins has sent, showing his current residence and daily activities in Amsterdam, Holland, where he lives and creates video works (he worked at Sherwin-Greenberg while in Buffalo). Several audience members and particularly band members were very moved by his postcard, calling it classic Collins, and got a bit misty.
Shortly after the second Collins video, Nullstadt, led by the two remaining original members, performed. Joining Kane and Kinsman were longtime Nullstadt members Greg Gizzi on drums and percussion and Kent Weber on bass and vocals, as well as later-period Nullstadt member Darren Burns (Cage) on keyboards and vocals. A sadly notable absence was that of a former early Nullstadt member, the late Bart Mitchell, who played guitar and sang, and it was interesting that while Nullstadt eventually incorporated guitars as a large part of its sound (with two guitarists at times), this evening’s performance, highlighting music from all parts of the band’s history, featured keyboards, synthesizers, bass, drums and vocals, with no guitar.
Ah, Kent and David
Nullstadt opened with an old song originally sung by Collins, “Beautiful Fashion,” with Kinsman taking all lead vocals; after the song, Kinsman said, “Stephen was the best lyricist I ever worked with.” The band next played “Another Warning Sign,” which caused Kinsman to remark only half-jokingly, “I was really a paranoid man then. Wow.” As the song played, Val leaned over to me and said, “Oh, my God, I know ALL of these lyrics.” Val was also an early Nullstadt fan, and we were fortunate to have sat by Val’s good friend and fellow photographer Mar Penner, another very early Continental denizen and Nullstadt fan (Val and Mar did a photo show on Buffalo bands and music years ago.) Next up was one of the band’s classic tunes, “Voices Out of Sight,” a song from Nullstadt’s first official album, “Flesh.” The thick, heavy, syncopated and tuneful song featured strong synths and crunching percussion, with Kane cannily sneaking in and out part of the piano line from “My Favorite Things” as Kinsman sings a small part of its chorus, then adds the song’s plaintive cry for not giving up hope in love and elsewhere: “Hold on, it’s not far away.” You can hear how the band’s sound took not too much revision to later be heard as the more industrial sounding Decay of Western Civilization. While he sat on a stool for most of the show, Kinsman began dancing in earnest to “Voices Out of Sight,” eventually doing his “Donald Dance,” best left undescribed but known to Nullstadt fans.
Nullstadt created and released two videos which received national airplay (including on MTV and USA Network’s late, great “Night Flight”), and next played “A Similar Crisis,” the second of the two and the later
created song and video (Disclaimer: my lovely wife, the previously mentioned photographer, graphic designer and site web mistress Valerie Dunne, appears in this video. If you have seen it or do see it, look for the, um, impressive blonde hair on one of the women going into the ladies’ room). As Kinsman introduced the song and mentioned the video, several people, including Val, laughed in what some may call a nervous manner: “Yes, I see some people here who were in the video,” he said with a smile as the band launched into the Eastern/Oriental-flavored keyboard song (another Decay of Western Civilization nod). After “Velvet Elvis,” a slower love/lust song with a Roxy Music-like sound, Nullstadt then played an occasional set stopper, “Slipping Away,” a stately song that swelled as it progressed, in which Kinsman is prepared to and actually starting to say goodbye to conformity and society, as well as apparently to a longtime love, because he can’t be what others want him to be.
Following this song was “Where You Stand,” which Kinsman described by joking, “Yeah, here’s another of our heavy songs,” comparing society to a police state. Yet another crowd favorite came up, “Unstable Ground,” from the “Flesh” album, prompting another intro joke by Kinsman: “Ooh, some more paranoia. WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE!” The hard driving, percussive song did not suffer from the lack of guitars, and Gizzi’s percussion and Weber’s bass were particularly impressive. Changing the pace a bit was “Revolution,” a much more joyful sounding song which segued into the Talking Heads’ version of “Take Me to the River” before returning to “Revolution.” Nullstadt ended with what is not only my favorite of the band’s early songs, but what I think is the band’s best/greatest tune, “Wartime.” Part a rumination by an old war veteran on the sadness, futility and insanity of war, it sounds a lot like a German World War II veteran speaking from postwar Germany, although it could be any war and any country. As Kinsman as the veteran sing on the chorus, “You’re too young to remember this,” and Kane’s keyboards play a wonderful, part-stately, part-mournful melody, it sounds like the protagonist is not bragging, but glad his listener did not have to endure warfare.
The audience gave the present members of Nullstadt a long and loud ovation, and the musicians gave the audience a lot of great new memories to go along with the stable of great old memories.
Seeing Kane like this reminds me of the Continental in the 80s... (comment: Val)
Writer’s notes:
1)It isn’t just a simple coincidence that Val and I were early, major Nullstadt fans (I actually caught the band’s first performance, opening for the Fleshtones at Buffalo State College, and I still have the concert poster); we had a host of serious, early musical similarities. We met officially in summer 1985 when I was interviewing the SplatCats for one publication while Val (younger than me) was photographing them for another publication. Also, it was a great help to me, because Val remembered some song titles and other information a bit clearer than me, which allowed me to change some things and avoid some embarrassment.
2)It also probably is no coincidence that among the music I listened to from my iTunes while writing this article were songs by Cabaret Voltaire, early Devo, Heaven 17, Public Image Limited and Siouxsie and the Banshees.
3)The videos for “A Similar Crisis” and the earlier Nullstadt tune for which the band created videos, “Mayday,” are available for viewing, etc., on YouTube and both my blog, www.buffaloroots.blogspot.com, and Val’s blog, www.creativebflo.blogspot.com.
4)For updated information, photos, other artwork and musical references on Stephen G. Collins, visit his web site at www.postwarmedia.nl, and he can be e-mailed at sgcollins@postwarmedia.nl.
5)If Nullstadt’s music (and Decay of Western Civilization music) was made available on CD and/or digitally, Val and I would definitely purchase some.
6)It seems that many of the early Buffalo punk/new wave bands I used to go out to see have been or are holding reunions (The Pine Dogs, The Enemies, The Jumpers and The Ramrods join Nullstadt, not to count the various bands that reunited for the “This Is It” Buffalo compilation CD shows). I may be more taken aback by the thought that we (myself, friends, bands/musicians, writers and other artists and colleagues) have gone from being the doers, the history makers, to being the history and the compilers and archivists of this history.