About: Nothing is Something by Sue Ann Harkey


12 May 2007, 20:41

Sue Ann Harkey
Nothing is Something
Cityzens for Non-Linear Futures

Nothing is Something
by Sue Ann Harkey

Recorded at Task-Scam Studios in 1983, New York and Seattle.
Released as a cassette album on Cityzens for Non-Linear Futures

Side A: Nothing is Something

1) But Here (instrumental)
- Sue Ann Harkey, piano
- Robert Hinrix, bass, drums
- Elliot Sharp, 3 strings

2) But Here
- Sue Ann Harkey, piano, vocals, violin, cymbals
- Robert Hinrix, bass, drums

3) Looking up the Avenues
- Sue Ann Harkey, acoustic guitar, vocals
- Robert Hinrix, piano
- Elliot Sharp, clarinet

4) Duet
- Sue Ann Harkey, acoustic guitar
- Robert Hinrix, piano

5) The Homeless
- Sue Ann Harkey, bass, vocals
- Robert Hinrix, piano
- Bob Jenkins, guitar

6) Nothing is Something
- Sue Ann Harkey, piano, vocals
- Robert Hinrix, bass, guitar

Side B: Something is Nothing

7) When You Know
- Sue Ann Harkey, piano, drums
- Robert Hinrix, bass
- Elliot Sharp, clarinet

8) Little Niches
- Sue Ann Harkey, bass, vocals, percussion, violin
- Bob Jenkins, guitar
- Paul Hoskin, bass clarinet

9) We can only Perceive our own Perceptions
- Sue Ann Harkey, bass, vocals
- Bob Jenkins, guitar
- Jeff McGrath, drums

10) Raga Rif Raf
- Sue Ann Harkey, acoustic guitar, 25¢ sitar
- Robert Hinrix, guitar
- Jeff McGrath, tablas

11) Hermione
- Sue Ann Harkey, piano, vocals
- Robert Hinrix, guitar
- Fred Chalenor, bass



(This track, 'But Here' was written while I was preparing to move to New York City from Seattle in 1983. Audio Letter had been performing in Seattle for a few years by then. Back when it was a grey and sleeping port town which all the bands avoided on their west cost tours. The original Skid-Row. And we lived literally right on top of it. Our tour of New York in 1982 convinced us that that was the place to be. So I secured an apartment in the East Village to go to and rounded the tribe up for the big move. But before I left I recorded many of these tracks and finished them off in the co-op on E. 7th Street featuring access to Elliot Sharp's ragged old piano.)

But Here

Past the smells of my youth
To the view of my present future
I couldn't have gone earlier
Not before the articulation
The delineation of the form of the form

The extremity, sorted them out
The filter is straining
It's exhausted now
Progress is unappreciated
One of everything, just one

It's time, it's time to go now
Now when and where direction, decision
When to articulate the articulation
Where our self-indulgance may be seen as discipline
Control, take control
Since we learned the process of our product
In our infancy, not in the midst
Of the spectacle capitol of the world

But here, but there, but here, but there
When and where all the ones who knew
That they had to leave as well
The other ones who left
Because of their extremity
They gathered n the extremity
In the converse
In the exchange of the extreme


(Upon arrival to The Big Apple.)

Looking up the Avenues

Looking up the avenues
See how it accumulates
From a distance, elongated
Faintly there they are
They disappear as you enter them
Why is it used as an excuse for everything?
Apathy, pride, extravagance, obsession, neglect
There's too much coincidence
For just mere chance
One canyonous perspective
People are all you have in the city


The Homeless

(An except from a piece by Art & Language.)


Nothing is Something

Nothing is something
Something is nothing
Limited in motion and perception
To forward and backwards
Surface of the sphere
The universe in not expanding into anything?
Nothing is something
Something is nothing
But what about entropy?
The edge, the skin, the surface,
The here and there, and in and out
The one, two, and three, and maybe five and six
Segregated in terms of time
3°, 3°, 3°, microwave radio frequency 3°, 3°, 3°,
Expanding in what, in what expanding in?
Nothing is something
Something is nothing


Little Niches

All these little niches of pride
In the face of the cliff
Justified homicide, genocide

It's not a class war it never has been
Because the classes are fighting themselves

Confined in the facade of power they exemplify
They are the threat they are controlled by

Revolutions are suppressed by former revolutionaries
Stop the sanctification of any attitude

The means and the study of making ones own space
Expansion simultaneously
Evolution = Entropy

We'll turn two people into one
And not be afraid of either one
Not afraid of either one.


We can only Perceive our own Perceptions

We can only perceive our own perceptions
Conclusions to what we see as the truth
Convictions to what we had already conceived
We take for granted our being alive
We have to sense the senses

The wills will willingly suffocate
Realm of reality resistance to rage
Mass reality which excludes most of reality
We have exiled our sense

(A delusion is real, the illusion within the delusion is real, only as an illusion, but the illusion within the delusion is real to the deluder.)

We can only comprehend the limited realities we exist it
Rather then the existing realities

To be real you have to work within the ordained formalities

They are victims of their own lust

Habitual efficiency, habitual inefficiency
Repetitive reactionaries
Of course its imagination
What else could it be

Intent, resent, involve, dissolve,
Consent, contempt, content, contain, remain, refrain

When and where does reality begin and end?

It is obvious that society is made up to make the individual adapt to it
Rather then society adapting to the individuals


(This is an excerpt from a short novel called Hermione written by Jesse Bernstein in Seattle. It was originally published in 1982 by Patio Table Press an imprint of Cityzens for Non-Linear Futures.)



Hermione stands with her face and hands pressed against one of the big panes of glass out on the closed porch. She is humming, whimpering a little between the lines of music. "Will I ever get out? Will I ever get out?." She places her body as close as she can to the rigid perimeter of her confinement. The world is barren on both sides; Hermione wished to prove this for herself. It might just be a picture, put there to trick me." as long as there is more then one side to this world....

The interface of pink cheek and icy glass. Her two fists balled up in her hair. That there's a dream rising, like the red fluid in a thermometer is almost plain, is certainly to be suspected. Look how it troubles Hermione's eyelids. See how her lips move, soundlessly? Who can believe that she is simply "thinking things over?" Elda's in the service room thinking. Valdimir's thinking at his desk. Hermione is being thoughts -- a confusion of words. A mix-up. But is she dreaming? The images are straight out of her life.

Hermione moves away from the glass. The strange music dims. She turns around, moving her mouth as though chewing. Elda approaches with the medicine tray...



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