Written by: Dave Cantrell

This year is mortifying us, in every way.

Stereo Embers is saddened to report that Alan Vega, one half of groundbreaking duo Suicide with Martin Rev, has passed away aged 78.

Fierce and renowned and close to a decade ahead of their time, Suicide emerged from the shadows of the Mercer Center in NYC in 1970, brandishing the simple but sinister throb of repetitive keyboard riffs, street thug leather jackets, an aesthetic attitude that welded warped Brill Building pop tropes to an elliptical sci-fi nihilism, and a confrontational stage presence that often included the wielding (by Vega) of motorcycle biker chains. Thus did the band lay the groundwork for ten thousand bands that followed them while simultaneously creating a bridge that would connect punk back to the Velvet Underground.

Born Alan Bermowitz in Bensonhurst, Vega attended Brooklyn College studying fine arts and physics. Graduating in 1960, he became involved in art radicalism with the Art Workers’ Coalition, which put him in the perfect position to be there at the birth of MUSEUM: A Project of Living Artists in 1969. During this time he changed his name to Alan Suicide and eschewed painting for light sculptures cobbled together with electronic debris. Seeing the Stooges that same year changed his life, as did meeting one Martin Reverby in 1970. Very soon they were patching together an electronic band that for a short time included a guitarist who was later dropped in favor of a drummer that was in turn replaced by a drum machine. Calling the band Suicide, Vega began referring to their performances as both ‘punk music’ and ‘punk music mass,’ having borrowed the p-word from Lester Bangs. From there, the two, no doubt surprisingly to those that saw them in those early years, proceeded to make history.

In most quarters it’s rather accepted fact that “I’m Stranded” was punk rock’s first official shot across society’s shocked bow, and that Television was the band that was ‘post-punk before there was even punk.’ But while it’s true that Suicide didn’t make it to vinyl until 1977 – a split 7″ with The Real Kids on Marty Thau’s Red Star Records – it’s nonetheless indisputable that, had there been opportunities (very rare on the ground in 1976, even in the decadent environs of ’70s NYC), Suicide would have preempted the former honor and most certainly claimed, along perhaps with West Coast counterparts Chrome, full ownership of the latter.

RIP Alan, thank you.