WHAT YOU COULD NOT VISUALISE directed by Marco Porsia (Canada, 2022)
It takes a special kind of music obsessive to contemplate making a documentary about an obscure indie band who released just one four-track EP and only played about a dozen live shows. There are no videos or live footage of Rema-Rema. Even in Simon Reynolds’ definitive study of post-punk, ‘Rip It And Start Again’, the English band are only mentioned in passing to say that Marco Pirroni played with them.
Rema-Rema’s ‘Wheel In The Roses’ EP was the first release on the esteemed 4AD label jointly founded by Ivo Watts-Russell and Peter Kent. On the 4AD website, Watt-Russell describes hearing the band’s demo for the first time as a kind of epiphany: “It was the first point I knew that we were actually doing something serious.”
The distinctive cover shot of African tribesmen was the main reason why many bought the EP in the first place. The sleeve gives no other information other than to list the musicians: Gary Asquith (guitar/vocals), Marco Pirroni (guitar), Mick Allen (bass/vocals), Mark Cox (keyboards) and Dorothy Max Prior (drums).
Rema-Rema were apparently named after a Polish machine manufacturer (don’t ask!) although it’s probable that it was picked because had same catchy resonance as The Kingsmen’s rock standard ‘Louie Louie’.
Turin-born director Marco Porsia (now based in Canada) has already gained the esteem of serious music lovers through his brilliant documentary charting the rise and rise of Michael Gira and Swans – Where Does A Body End? (2019). It was no coincidence that Swans were playing in Bologna the day after his attendance at the screening of ‘What You Could Not Visualise’ at the city’s Cineteca. (Swans’ drummer Phil Puleo was sitting in front of me in the audience!)
In the film, guitarist Marco Pirroni is the off-stage villain of the piece. Pirroni left the band abruptly to seek fame and fortune with Adam & The Ants. The remaining four members could not contemplate carrying on without him. Their story could have ended there but in researching this film, Porsia found to his surprise and delight that he was not alone in regarding Rema-Rema’s 1980 EP as a treasured artefact; a kind of holy grail of post-punk.
Porsia was undeterred by Pirroni’s blunt refusals to give any interviews for his project. The contributions of other four members more than compensates for his absence. Also, as he explained in a Q & A session after the Bologna screening, his aim was not just to celebrate a brilliant but short-lived band. Rema-Rema’s story is illustrative of the passion, inovation and commitment that is too often overlooked. Rock history is usually confined to cataloguing top-selling acts and familiar names.
In this regard, Porsia is on the same wavelength as the late lamented DJ John Peel who always said that releasing even just one record should be regarded as a source of pride. Peel’s point was that this modest achievement was deserving of respect and far preferable to heaping praise on mercenary artists who primarily regard music-making as a career move.
This purist’s perspective is endorsed by many talking heads in Porsia’s film. His interviewees include Stephen Mallinder of Cabaret Voltaire, Australian musician, composer, and record producer JG. Thirwell, living legend Steve Albini (who released a cover of the Rema-Rema track with Big Black) and Bettina Köster formerly of Berlin’s Malaria!
On a more bizarre note, Porsia also discovered that the record had inspired James Elliott of the fragrance house ‘Filigree & Shadow’ to produce a Rema perfume (“A touch of melancholy”). Elliot says that he is an olfactive synesthete, a condition which means he thinks of smells when he listens to music.
The enthusiasm of the contributors for Rema-Rema knows no bounds to the point that variations of the “I’d heard nothing quite like it” claim get a little repetitive after a while. The reaction also seems over the top for a record that is certainly distinctive but, to my ears, not that revelatory. Ivo Watts-Russell even maintains that the lyrics to the crooning ‘Fond Affection’ (“There’s no light at the beginning ……. no light at the end of it all”) show a Zen-like wisdom.
In a way, it hardly matters whether you think the record is mind-blowing or not. This movie is a snapshot in time when bands followed the DIY punk ethos without thinking of the long-term. Steve Albini makes the valid point that Rema-Rema’s flash in the pan proves that one vinyl disc can be more enduring than a You Tube video.
In the age of streaming, the value of music as a physical object is now a niche market and the survival of artists depends more than ever on money gained from merchandise and live performances. Like Marco Porsia, I will be at Teatro Duse in Bologna to pay homage to Swans, a band that are beyond peddling nostalgia and understand the merit of art for art’s sake. Who knows, they may even do a cover of Rema-Rema!*
*Post concert footnote – they didn’t
