Rettsounds - Black Humor

I first learned of San Francisco’s Black Humor and their sole LP Love God, Love One Another in the late 80s flipping through a back issue of Maximum Rock ‘N’ Roll. The magazine had a letter from an irate person saying what a racist, highly offensive record it was, and how dare MRR run a review of it when there were a ton of records out there they could cover with important messages about the plight of the left handed bean farmers from Guam and so forth. The letter intrigued me enough to make a mental note to keep my eyes peeled for the thing. A few years later, I came across a copy in one of those generic 12-inch sleeves that usually hold dance records. Protruding from the center hole was a label adorned with the image of a swastika made entirely out of crutches. Thinking I had found a record that would make Skrewdriver sound like the Starlight Vocal Band, I rushed home to hear possibly the most offensive record ever made. Some of the tracks weren’t even songs—just some guy going on about how he wanted to kill everyone from punk rockers to Jews to Cholos to whites who acted like Cholos. I held onto it for a while just for shit’s sake until I traded it away to a more sonically adventurous pal.

Another copy of it passed through my hands about ten years later. This time it was in a handmade cover caked in dirt and dead worms.  My experience with it this time around was profoundly different. Seeing as I was now a bitter husk of my former naïve self, I had a better understanding of Black Humor’s blanket hatred of the world. The second time around, this one was a keeper.

And since we’re in an age when anything and everything gets re-issued, the newly launched Superior Viaduct label has deemed this the time to bring Love God, Love One Another out of the collector ghetto and into the all-too-bright light of day complete with a nice silkscreen cover and a jacket packed with goodies. I tracked down George Miller, one of the two brains behind the album, in celebration of such an occurrence. Here’s what he had to say.

VICE: Prior to meeting Dan Houser, the other half of Black Humor, were you making music? 
George Miller: I moved to San Francisco in 1979 and started playing bass for my brother’s band. It was basically an amateurish pop kind of thing. That lasted about a year or so. I bought an overdubbing reel-to-reel tape deck and started working on stuff, lots of songwriting with occasional cool electronic pieces.

Are you a native of San Francisco? 
I grew up in Carson City, and I got the hell out of there because it was a crummy place to live. San Francisco was just over the mountains and my brother had already moved there. I was just short of 18 years old at that point.

How did you and Dan meet and what eventually led you to play music?
I met Dan as soon as I moved to San Francisco. My brother had already met him and was hanging out with him a bit. Over the years, we would occasionally jam and eventually we got more serious about it.

What struck you about Dan that you wanted to hang out and make music with him?
Dan was extremely charismatic. We both liked to smoke weed, and we both liked freaky and wild music. Dan had a really friendly side to him and he wanted to always get people involved on a creative level and get some action going. The Black Humor record reflects this with the amount of contributors there are.

Do you have any idea where Dan is today?
Not exactly. I got a message to him a few years ago when the first label was threatening to re-release Black Humor and he said he did not care. I have a feeling that he would rather remain anonymous in relation to Black Humor.

Do you think the whole punk thing was a lark? 
I do not think in terms of how music is labeled. I like to think I have an open ear for all music and it all inspired me to do things for myself. I think that someone like Brian Eno inspired a DIY aesthetic in me much more than punk rock did. He was not a musician that could play an instrument well, but he was able to bring great musicians in because of the originality and greatness of his ideas. Doing your own record back then is just what a lot of us were doing. It was not that cost prohibitive.

What came first,  Black Humor as a recording project or as a live band? 
At first we recorded only and then several months after the record came out we got a singer and a drummer and morphed into a very different music project. But we still called ourselves Black Humor. I guess we wanted to be like the others and rock out on the stage, have fun, and be more a part of the scene.

What were the early Black Humor gigs like?
Our first gig was at a really small place called Sound Of Music and our second gig was opening for Flipper at the Elite club, which is the Fillmore Auditorium. This band was nothing that resembled the record. We played some sort of tricky art-core punk music. People just stood there, indifferent. I think I would have had the same reaction if I was out there watching it.

Do you think people were actually looking for something more confrontational from what they heard on the 12-inch?
Well, I do not know how we could have been more confrontational than the record. What we were doing live then was confrontational in a different way. We played as fast as we could and the vocals were screamed and there were no songs written using bar chords. It was pretty noodly and slightly complex. Not what punkers would like.

What about a another album?
I think we could have done at least one more record if we had stuck to doing weirdo studio pieces. The second record was vaguely planned and it would have been called Party and the cover would have been these dirty porno black comedy records with a bunch of naked black people wearing party hats. Another one of Dan’s great ideas. But those were the times and I guess we were more caught up in the punk and emerging hardcore styles. But I do regret it a bit that we never chose to represent live what was on the record.

When the 12-inch came out, what was the initial reaction?
Indifference, and a few people who loved it. An instant cult classic.

After the record came out, there were some issue with Maximum Rock ‘N’ Roll…
There was no problem with them. I do not know why anyone would think that. After a favorable review by Ruth Schwartz, a reader simply wrote a letter against us and they printed it and Ruth wrote a few columns in our defense. If Ruth was a part of Max R'n'R, then they supported us. I met Tim Yohannan very briefly once; he seemed like a nice guy.

How strong was Black Humor going after the 12-inch was released?
I guess we thought it was going strong with our new live band, but in hindsight I would say we took the wrong turn. We should have stayed on the outsider tip instead of trying to rock out.

What brought the end of Black Humor? I heard it was because you ordered a veggie pizza when you were out with Dan.
Yes, Dan used me ordering a veggie pizza as an excuse to get mad and quit the band. I think he was bored with it and maybe it was not developing into something he was interested in. It would have been hard in any case to sustain a project with Dan, he was pretty kooky. I think I am the only one to ever really finish a project with him. I am good at working with kooks.

When did you find out the 12-inch was gaining a following after the fact?
I am not too sure what kind of following there is. I think you must mean very recently after Min from the A-Frames did an interview with me for Zip Gun magazine. In all the years I lived in San Francisco and considering all of the bands I was in, hardly anyone ever made any reference to or talked to me about the Black Humor album.

What are you up to now?
Living in Berlin with my lovely girlfriend, working as a soundman and raising our two daughters.

Why do you think people are still interested in Black Humor? 
Because it was and still is totally unique.

Previously – Watery Love