East Village rocker still ‘Sley’-ing them
BY BOB KRASNER
Cynthia Sley has seen some
changes. Musical projects, jobs,
record labels, motherhood, divorce
and more apartments than she
can remember have come and gone.
But, after 40 years, the band that
guitarist Pat Place “coerced” her into
joining – the Bush Tetras – is still
going strong.
Sley grew up in Cleveland, taking in
the wild musical scene that produced
Pere Ubu and Devo but never thinking
that she’d ever be in a band. It was on
a trip to New York City to visit the only
person she knew here – Jim Jarmusch
– that she had her epiphany.
“I walked from the Empire Hotel
(on the Upper West Side) to the East
Village and I knew immediately that I
had to move here,” she recalls.
Although she had written lots of poetry,
it was never with the intention of
her words becoming songs. Her previous
experience in anything resembling
a band was her involvement back home
in a “fake band” called “Johnny and the
Dicks,” a performance art piece that
didn’t involve much actual music (but
did involve future Bush Tetra Laura
Kennedy) .
Once she moved to the city, she toyed
with the idea of going to FIT and becoming
a fashion designer, but fate had
other plans.
“I ran into Laura Kennedy and
fell into that group of weirdos!” Sley
laughs. Guitarist Pat Place had left
the Contortions, where she had made
a name for herself in the “No Wave”
scene backing up James Chance with
her unique style and was putting the
Bush Tetras together but couldn’t find
the right vocalist.
Sley fit right in, her poems becoming
songs as the Bush Tetras came together
with Kennedy on bass and drummer
Dee Pop.
“We felt the chemistry right away,”
Sley muses. “I fell in love with the
collaborative process – sometimes the
songs just burst out of nothing.”
Their first gig was at Tier 3, a short
lived, legendary center for live music in
Tribeca. It was packed with fans of Pat
Place and Sley remembers being pretty
nervous.
“I hung on the mic stand and sang
with my eyes closed the whole time,”
At the Mercury Lounge in summer 2019, the Bush Tetras L-R: Pat Place,
Cynthia Sley, Dee Pop, Val Opielski.
she says. “We only had seven songs and
we did them all twice!”
The second gig was even scarier.
Opening for the Feelies at a much
bigger full house at Irving Plaza, Sley
brought along a guitar but never played
it. “I only opened my eyes to play percussion,”
she admits.
The Bush Tetras had a sound and
an attitude that was perfect for the
downtown scene. Their first single,
released in 1980 on 99 Records, was
“Too Many Creeps,” a perfect intro to
their aesthetic. The seven inch single
actually made a dent on the Billboard
dance chart, hitting no. 57 and remains
a signature tune in their live show.
Sley spent some of these formative
times sleeping “on a pile of mattresses”
in the group’s rehearsal space at First
Avenue and First Street, trying to
ignore the dripping water and hoping
that the gas leaks would be fixed
quickly.
Real apartments followed and the
band continued to record and tour.
The band went through changes and
Sley’s life did as well. In 1982 she married
guitarist Ivan Julian, a member
of Richard Hell’s Voidoids. The Bush
Tetras began to mutate in 1983 due to
the departure of Kennedy and Pop.
Replacements Don Christenson and
PHOTOS BY BOB KRASNER
Bob Albertson kept them going for
another year, but “we sabotaged ourselves,”
says Sley. Among other issues,
“drugs were involved.”
As the Tetras dissolved, she formed
Lovelies with husband Julian, recording
one album. In 1989 their son Austin
was born and eventually Sley put aside
music for a while. “I was crushed that
things hadn’t worked out,” she admits.
Other projects did follow, including
an excellent collaboration with Rachel
Dengiz and Pat Irwin (of the Raybeats
and the B52’s) called Command V and
a couple of recorded but unreleased
enterprises – the Tabby Chinos with
Bob Pfeifer and 1-900-BOX, a group
that had the blessing and occasional
mentorship of Debbie Harry but didn’t
last.
Meanwhile, music wasn’t paying the
bills and in 1992 her marriage broke
up, leaving her a single mother.
“I really struggled,” she admits. “I
was doing freelance gigs, like editing
Berlitz travel guides – I speak fluent
French – and putting myself through
college to get a teaching degree.”
She started out teaching art at a
“pretty rough” school on the Lower
East Side, but luckily ended up at
PS3 in the West Village. “I loved that
school,” she says.
Cynthia Sley in her apartment.
Her place of residence continued
to change, landing her in Brooklyn,
Harlem and even a few years in Laurel
Canyon in California. “I hated California,”
she notes.
In addition to art, Sley has had a
great time teaching science, writing
and math to grade school kids but, she
says, “I couldn’t give up music.”
New work began to emerge with an
EP on Wharf Cat Records and a single
on Jack White’s Third Man label. While
they work up new material for an upcoming
LP, Sley is having a moment of
transition that is working for her.
“I’m debt free and I’m retired from
teaching,” she explains. Her son and
his wife have moved out of her Chelsea
digs and Sley is relishing the creativity
of the revived Bush Tetras.
“We write a lot out of jams – it’s really
cool and really fun. And we are
having a great time playing live!”
Even though the times have changed
and the post punk scene that nourished
the band is now history, the band sees
fans at the shows who were not yet born
when they released their first single.
The Bush Tetras will celebrate their
40th anniversary at Le Poisson Rouge
on Feb. 21. They can be heard live on
wfmu.org on Feb. 19 at 9 p.m. More
info about the band is at www.facebook.
com/bushtetras/.
18 January 30, 2020 Schneps Media
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