When consulting the historical record of the sprawling history of post-punk, Switzerland rarely comes up. It’s England that dominates the conversation, and for good reason: groups like Joy Division, The Fall, Gang of Four, and The Pop Group would have an outsize influence in how the genre would be defined. Post-punk has become so enshrined in the history of rock music—and so popular that it’s been stylistically resuscitated again and again—that it’s easy to forget how revolutionary it was in the early ‘80s. Inspired by the DIY spirit of punk, but largely untethered from the musical lexicon from rock music, musicians on the bleeding edge used whatever they could get their hands on to swim against the tide of popular music and create sounds never heard before. Senza Decoro: Liebe + Anarchia / Switzerland 1980-1990 is a survey of how the avant-garde shaped up in an oft-ignored European nation.
Even inside Switzerland, the country’s post-punk history isn’t particularly well documented. Swiss DJ and Senza Decoro compiler Mehmet Aslan’s first experience with post-punk from his own country was discovering the group KonX via an Italian language music blog. Synthesizers, samplers, and drum machines became more common fixtures in rock ensembles as the technology became more accessible, but KonX was unique in that everything was created digitally in frontman Peter Felippi’s Electronic Music Multitrack studio. Fascinated by the dark, murky synth melody of “…Basic Ground Without Voice…” (included here in an edited form), Aslan rolled up his sleeves and went digging in dusty crates for more.
The artists he stumbled upon had fascinating stories. Dr. Chattanooga & The Navarones played their first live act as an opener for Flame Dream—a popular Swiss prog group—but the performance might not have happened if their demo tape hadn’t gotten lost on the way to the show’s promoters. Concertgoers hoping for similar symphonic stylings to the headlining band were sorely disappointed and the organizers asked The Navarones to leave (though they ignored the request and continued to play). “Kabyl Marabù” offers some clues why the crowd might not have been ready: its wonky tempo and sprechgesang vocal delivery is augmented with bizarre samples like chirping birds, croaking frogs, and jingling coins. This was not easy listening.
The diversity of what’s here illustrates how difficult it can be to pin down what post-punk even is. Some tracks more closely resemble the English sound we’re used to, like “Labyrinth” by Jürg Nutz, but others are nearly unrecognizable. Café Türk borrows heavily from Jamaican dub reggae on “Söyledir,” while Bells of Kyoto pull influence from jazz fusion and Middle Eastern rhythms on “Asho II.” Even in such a small geographical area, the underground was diverse and non-localized; most of these bands weren’t even aware of one another. Senza Decoro doesn’t draw stylistic parallels between artists or construct an easy narrative to follow, but that in itself tells a story of the experimental spirit of Swiss rock.
