Gang of Four, Andy Gill, and Dave Curington

By SoDak

Dave Curington and I sat on the crooked deck of the cheap house he was renting in the Black Hills in the mid-1990s. There was a slight chill in the air, but ragged flannels kept us warm. Yellow aspen leaves were scattered between the pines. Dave loaded his grandfather’s .22 pistol. We took turns shooting tin cans, sitting on old, rotting stumps. We were both a bit aimless, not sure what to pursue. We had ambitions, but few resources to put toward specific goals. Between knocking over cans, we reminisced, reflecting on the bands we loved and the road trips we took to see shows. Dave recalled the time the two of us were driving to Sioux Falls, South Dakota, when his band Straight from the Heart was going to play a show there. We made our way through a blizzard. Every time semi-trucks passed us, the windshield was covered in slush and grim. I gripped the wheel, hoping the wipers would quickly clear the window. Icy patches on the highway constantly surprised us, creating additional tension. Gang of Four’s Entertainment (1979) played over and over on the cassette deck. We nodded our heads and sang along, thinking we might die on this day. We shuttered remembering that drive, and felt fortunate that things were okay. That trip, the punk rock scene, and everything else we shared in between bonded us. We picked up the cans and went inside.

Dave said, “I got something for you.” He handled me A Brief History of the Twentieth Century (1990) by Gang of Four. “I took the extra copy from radio station, thinking a commie like you needed this in your collection. Plus, I was thinking about the drive when we listened to Entertainment over and over.” He knew me well. In the mid-1980s, I was obsessed with the first two records by Gang of Four. I loved the socialist-influenced lyrics, given the captivating critique of society. The back-and-forth vocals that were a dialectical analysis were hypnotic in their execution. The angular, punchy guitar playing by Andy Gill was pulsating and disruptive. The bass and drums were also a force to be reckoned with. I was memorized by their unique songs, which had such power and space.

I remain a devout Gang of Four fan. I regularly listen to their records. The other night I was listening to A Brief History of the Twentieth Century, thinking about Dave, who became a public defender, but died from brain cancer at the age of 40 in 2012. I was flipping through a collection of photographs we had taken, mostly of the Black Hills, the grasslands in South Dakota, and flowers. As the record ended, I read on a music news site that Andy Gill had died at the age of 64. I loved Gill’s guitar playing, which added powerful accents to every song. With much love and sorrow, I appreciate how his songs serve as notes that continue to connect me to friends who are gone.