Back
I had heard of the Shaggs, and rumours of the Shaggs, for ages, since I actually AM that frightening creature who pores through old rock encyclopedias and books.
Sometime around 1994, a friend whose musical taste I admired and shared (perhaps because we both were frequently accused of having no taste or, at least, not the right one for queers) put a song by them on a compilation tape (I think it was "I'm So Happy When You're Near"...awwww...).� I was fascinated, horrified, traumatized, intrigued, repulsed and, finally, in love with this twisted tuneage!
The Shaggs (Dorothy Wiggin on lead guitar and vocals; Betty Wiggin on rhythm guitar and vocals; Helen Wiggin on drums; and occasionally Rachel on bass) were from Fremont, New Hampshire, and put out an album entitled "Philosophy of the World" in 1969 (if 'put out' can be applied in this instance, since 900 of the 1000 copies pressed vanished along with the record's producer immediately - let us be kind/trusting in our good taste and assume he thought they were too precious to be subjected to a cruel world that likely would have reacted with shock...).
The Wiggins were very much a rock equivalent of literature's Bronte sisters - raised by a very doting father (according to Helen in 1999, criminally doting at least once);� home-schooled; not allowed to date or socialize; and generally isolated from teenaged life.� However, my assumption that they were handed instruments, had rock described to them, but were not allowed to hear any REAL examples, turns out to be wrong - they were huge music fans...� In this context, the very inward, eccentric, nearly 'mad' nature of their work was to be expected.
The story goes that their father, Austin, was told by his psychic mother that, after her death,� he would marry a strawberry blonde and have two sons, and would also have daughters who played in a band.� Since the rest came true, he gave his daughters instruments and lessons, though they currently say they had no real ambition for fame or musical careers; in that case, living in Fremont, never playing outside of its town hall and nursing home (locals say they found their music 'painful and tortuous', but there just wasn't much else to do in Fremont, and their concerts were regularly attended by Fremont's roughly one hundred teens), and not having much exposure of their record made it easy to avoid public adoration.
It is alleged that their one album that was conceived as a complete project, "Philosophy of the World" ("Shaggs Own Thing" was assembled from outtakes, demos, etc.), could have been prevented, had Austin listened to the engineer who begged him to take his daughters away and practice some more.� He wanted to immortalize them while they were 'hot', though, and the rest is history...
Are you scared yet, gentle reader?
What do the Shaggs SOUND like, you ask? Well...picture two guitars, roughly in tune with one another, but not in tune with anything else in the known universe, including the bizarre, deadpan vocals.� Compel yourself to assume that the drummer could not hear what the others were doing, or vice versa, since her rhythm is, um, very free.� Each element by itself was odd - the combination is downright alien and like nothing else before or since (Half Japanese come close, but are more in tune).
The songs, which fall into a mutated country/50s rock slot, are very insular and limited in scope (it is sad to say it does not surprise me Helen suffers from severe depression and hallucinations today, since there is something autistic, disturbed and withdrawn about the whole project).� While teen subjects like boys, cars and radios do emerge, they seem to be about Stepford Boys, home-made vehicles and static at the bottom of the dial, and the prevalence of songs about parents, naive philosophy and daydreaming, Hallowe'en and parents speak to stunted growth, though the approaches are just peculiar enough to intrigue.
The title track of the first album is troubling, with its references to 'never being at ease' and assertions that 'you can never please anybody in this world' - by all accounts, Austin was a very harsh, possessive father and a stern taskmaster (when Helen left home at twenty-eight to marry, he did not speak to her for months - this likely has something to do with that incestuous undertone).
The 'second' album is a little more conventional, if only because they seem to have learned to tune their guitars, if not their voices, and added bass - and the only song known to have been written by Betty, instead of Dorothy, "Painful Memories", should have been a big country hit, with its slide parts and gentle shuffle.
The band muddled on in obscurity until 1975, though they stopped playing live after 1973, and the women went on to jobs, marriages, etc.
Time passed, and a cult grew slowly, aided by the lavish praise of Frank Zappa (the last person you would have thought would endorsed their music, given his snobbish love of chops and technique) and Jonathan Richman (certainly as eccentric a vocalist as the Shaggs, if more musically conventional...).
In 1988, the albums and some extra material were issued on one CD by Rounder, thanks to the efforts of the band NRBQ, who had also got "Philosophy" and "Shaggs Own Thing" released on their label, Red Rooster.
In 1999, RCA re-issued "Philosophy", and a loving but revealing tribute to them appeared in September 27's New Yorker.
And then the even MORE unthinkable happened!
They played live outside of New Hampshire (well, Betty and Dorothy made it - Helen does not go out).� On November 20, 1999, for NRBQ's 30th Anniversary Party, they re-united at New York City's Bowery Ballroom and did four songs.� By all accounts, they were no more competent at their instruments, which is not surprising, since only Dorothy kept playing for any time after the band dissolved, claiming in interviews since 1984 that she was working on new material.
One can only hope (or dread).� We need some benign eccentric aliens, after the evil invasions of Britney Spears and Kid Rock.
"I'm so happy when you're near - I'm so sad when you're away..."
Back
