Liner Notes to THE BLEAK YEAR 1982

Liner Notes to THE BLEAK YEAR 1982 by The League Of Existence

Side A: Raisin Bread To Asia Minor / Apology-Calvin Smith Pickup Service / Inspector McCusker / Coma-Gemayel-Dandy Day / Yaz My Way

Side B: Politics-Washington, NH-Lecture / Ed Robinson-Bonehead Bruce / Muté-Meté Night in Dunstable / Where is Gibson Street? / Is there an answer / Mini-Opera

THE BLEAK YEAR 1982

In 2002, looking back at 20 years remove to 1982, the descriptive phrase that came into my mind was “A bleak year.” That was how 1982 seemed to me in memory. I recalled little of significance, little joy, little success or reward. Yet, in trawling my recorded archives for the purpose of making a 1982 anthology CD, I found a surprisingly rich trove of Federation material on tape. [N.B.: The Federation was the name used by LOE members up to April 1990.] I proceeded to assemble a full disc of highlights, which was issued as a limited edition home-studio CD in August 2002. Still unsure of my own perspective on the matter, I titled it, “A Bleak Year? – 1982,” the question mark a symbol of mixed feelings and thoughts on a time that looked so depressively dim but was undeniably streaked with fireworks flares.

The contents of the August ‘02 disc did not by any means constitute the whole of 1982’s recorded efforts. In ensuing years, more nuggets were picked from the archives and included on further home demo releases. The impetus behind this new edition of THE BLEAK YEAR came from my continued enjoyment of the ‘82 remnants, and my conviction that the best of these deserved to be heard in a better way and by more ears. By the way, all of the material in this album was originally recorded on shoddy cassettes in portable tape recorders of varying quality, and while the modern digital studio has provided some sonic “clean-up,” the limitations of the source material are evident. We hope it is nonetheless better than merely listenable.

If you do listen, you should know up front that this stuff is not for the faint of heart. It contains plenty of undeleted expletives, although salty language does not dominate and sexual themes were never common to the Federation milieu. What may be the biggest challenge for the innocent listener is the frequent sheer heedlessness of good taste and social norms. If you’re looking for offensive content, you came to the right place. Insults, cruel parody, black humor. . . Come and get it!

On top of that, there is a lot of just-plain-weirdness in our spools of old cellulose. You will hear many references to Muté-Meté. This was the Federation’s name for bizarre abstract language, of which you will hear ample examples throughout. At certain points, the intensity of aggressive, unchained stream-of-consciousness shouting may be overwhelming. Even we who made this a part of our daily lives must pause at moments to shake our heads clear.

The voices you will hear with greatest frequency are those of Donald Cogswell, James McCusker, Stephen McMillen, and Mark Pestana. Louis Connolly, Greg McMillen, and Dennis Pimental have cameos, and there are a few other very minor supporting players. The star turn, however, is taken by Mr. McCusker. He is the only participant who appears in every segment and, more often than not, he takes the lead role. The very first words, those beginning Raisin Bread To Asia Minor, are his. He spars with Mr. McMillen in the Apology for Muté-Meté and plays the title character in Inspector McCusker. He sings the Sinatra parody to Yaz and the disparaging ode to Ed Robinson. He takes title role again in Bonehead Bruce and soaks up the spotlight in Muté-Meté Night in Dunstable. It was he, too, who was lost on Gibson Street and asking, “Is there an answer to this question?” Finally, he conceived, announced, and did most of the heavy lifting in the Mini-Opera, recorded on a snow-covered January day in a basement in Dunstable with friends in various states of substance disrepair. At his peak, there was no one to challenge McCusker in the realms of abstract comedy, and in 1982 he was certainly at or near the summit. It was a wonder just to be there, watching him go off like that.

Even now, at 36 years remove, 1982 sits frumpily amidst shadows of other, more flamboyant annums – the innocently boisterous late ‘70s on one side, the heady, maturing mid ‘80s and the dynamic albeit autumnal 21st Century years on the other. So, why do I keep returning to it, this redheaded stepchild of our browning calendar leaves? One direct response is that the best of the ’82 material justifies the attention. Raisin Bread, Inspector McCusker, the Mini-Opera: these are immortal moments in my mind, the kind I will take laughing to my grave.

Another response is that this is an exercise in finding the silver lining, sifting a few flakes of gold ore out of grey rocks and mud, and using them to make a dull time shine a little brighter in our memory. Either way, I suspect I may never completely shake the feeling that it was, and is, after all, THE BLEAK YEAR 1982.

- Mark Pestana, October 2018