#crocus behemoth

No photo of the original lineup seem to exist, so the live shot (at CBGB) included is from 1978 (Peter Laughner had sadly passed at this point).

June 14, 1953 – April 23, 2025

Crocus Behemoth - The Left-Handed Path of Repression (Green Anarchy magazine)

David Thomas † April 23, 2025

Crocus Behemoth - The Left-Handed Path of Repression (Green Anarchy magazine)

c1989, from a long-gone weekly American TV show produced by Lorne Michaels, called, ‘Night Music’.

The Pere Ubu Story with David Thomas

Pulling out all the stops today. Crocus Behemoth talks Peter Laughner and early Pere Ubu in 2006. Interview by Ryan Leach This interview originally ran on www.razorcake.org Ryan: Getting Rocket From The Tombs together, it seemed like that really solidified when Peter Laughner joined the fold.  David: Well, he was the best musician that I had worked with. I remember running into him at a sort of folk club. And he knew who I was because I was sort of known at that time (through Thomas’ writing). And he came up to me. He had heard that I had this sort of band with other people at the newspaper; that it wasn’t a serious band—I don’t mean that it was comical, it just wasn’t a serious band—but he wanted to play with me. So it developed from there.  Once he got into the band, it was clear that there was this big difference of quality and ability, within him and everyone else. And the band began to change. People began to leave or be kind of pushed out. And it transformed itself into what is considered the classic version of Rocket, which really only lasted about six or seven months. Ryan: And you were familiar with Cinderella Backstreet (Laughner’s previous band)?  David: I had seen them. Yeah. Ryan: You and Peter saw Television really early on… David: Not me. Peter.  Ryan: Oh, just Peter. David: I didn’t see them until they came to Cleveland. Ryan: Oh, okay.  David: I think. I can’t remember. I don’t think I saw them till then.  Ryan: As an outsider looking in, there seemed to be camaraderie there, like you were two bands on the periphery: too erudite for your own commercial good. I remember Tom Verlaine said that he had a deep respect for you in an interview from ’79, that you were the only band or individuals doing anything interesting at that time.  David: Yeah, I didn’t really know those guys. Peter was really buddies with them. And I didn’t really like anything from New York. I just didn’t like New York or their scene. I was really into doing our own thing. And Peter had sort of—not a slavish, but too much of a puppy dog sort of added enthusiasm—for it. And that kind of put me off. So I never wanted to go to New York. Peter was the one who said, “Oh, come on. Let’s go to New York. Let’s play New York.” And I would go, “Ah…” So he was much more into it than I was. He was the one that brought Television to Cleveland; or at least strong armed the promoter to bringing them in; nagged him more like it. Ryan: Peter was gone from the band and then he died. And then you went to record your first full-length record. Did you tack on “Life Stinks” as kind of a nod to your pal who died?  David: No. I don’t think so. It was just a song we were doing and it was a great song. We didn’t particularly think in those sorts of terms. It was part of the set. Ryan: Speaking of that—it’s widely recognized that Peter’s death had a profound effect on Lester Bangs. What was that to you? Did it symbolize the end of a mindset? David: No. It was a long, drawn-out process that was very tiresome and painful. That’s why Tim (Wright, early Pere Ubu bassist) and I in ’76 had the meeting with Peter and had the parting of the ways. It was clear to us that he was on a self-destructive path. And his doctors had just said, “If you keep doing this, you’ll be dead in a year.” And we didn’t see any way that he would not keep doing it. And we didn’t want to be part of the process. It was really becoming unbearable to work with him and put up with the nonsense. We just didn’t want to be the enabler to do this stuff. So we had a meeting with him. It was one of those meetings: “Maybe it’s time you go your way and we’ll go ours. No hard feelings, blah, blah, blah sort of thing.” That was the way it was. We were friends and everything. But Peter was heading off somewhere that no one really wanted to accompany him to. Because it wasn’t going to lead anywhere. It was pointless and we didn’t want to be part of it.  Ryan: Getting on Mercury with the first record—can you tell me how Blank Records came about? David: Well, I got a call one day from Cliff Bernstein who was the head of A&R at Mercury. And he said that he had found our first two singles in a record shop in Chicago and really loved them and the music. And he said that he just wanted to call to say that. He said, “I’d love to sign you, but Mercury is not the label for you and you shouldn’t do it. But I’m here to help. And if you ever want to talk to someone about something, give me a call.” So about two days later, somebody from Chrysalis called and said, “We’d like to sign you.” And I called Cliff back and said, “Blah, blah, blah.” And he said, “Oh, well, wait a minute. Don’t do anything for a week. I’ll get back to you.” And in that week he worked out a deal to have Blank Records. Initially, I guess, it was kind of our label. And he signed a few other people to it. But it was sort of a means to do that kind of music on Mercury at that time. I think, in the end, it didn’t pan out for him. He was frustrated by it all. By that point he had become our manager and he moved us over to Chrysalis. Ryan: Speaking of those three records you cut (with the ’78 to late ’79 lineup), I really like Dub Housing.  David: I think Dub Housing is the masterpiece of that period. Ryan: I’d have to agree with you. I think it was a culmination of things. You were solidifying what you wanted to do on the first one and on New Picnic Time the cracks started to show. But Dub Housing really seemed to come together for you guys. Do you remember that being a really vibrant, creative time?  David: Well, it was a very busy time. We had effectively three albums come out in one year: The Modern Dance, Dub Housing, and Datapanik in the Year Zero. We did an initial tour of Europe in the spring, and then did a very long tour in the fall. In between there was an American tour and recording Dub Housing over the summer. We were constantly doing something at that point. I think in the end, in the winter of ’79, we started Picnic Time. I think Picnic Time is a great album. It’s just very weird. It was meant to be very jungle-like. I think there were a lot of problems with generating material that quickly. Plus, we had this idea that we didn’t want to do Dub Housing again, and we weren’t necessarily sure where that was going to go. So we tried to do something that was extremely dense. It’s got problems, that record, but it’s not a bad record at all. There are a lot of people that it’s their favorite record of that period. So it can’t be all hideousness.