An album that was never officially released but given away to friends.
"The cover of the album contains 779 names—one for each copy of the album. At the bottom of the cover is a blank space for anyone not named on the cover to write their name. Each person who received the album got a copy with their name circled on the cover; this was done for identification of a "culprit" should the album ever end up for sale.The Futurist was never released commercially. There is speculation that this was because Shellac were not satisfied with the finished product."
Not much of a gift then!
Oddly, I once invoked the Italian Futurists in the context of Big Black:
"Big Black's anti-Romanticism was signaled very clearly in the sleeve note salutation on Songs About Fucking to "all bands who don't write love songs", which recalled the Futurists' proclamation that the nude in painting was an exhausted idiom, sentimentalized and enfeebled."
Would you believe, I have never listened to Shellac - until today.
After Rapeman, I didn't bother with Albini's musical efforts.
Listening to At Action Park, I didn't feel like I'd missed a whole heap.
The Brillo Pad guitar sounds like someone fixated fairly fruitlessly on trying to replicate - without exactly repeating - the impact that Andy Gill / Bruce Gilbert / et al - had on him at an impressionable age. So not really Futurist - Past-ist, if anything.
I've had more time for Albini as thinker and opinionator - I don't think there's been an interview, or a piece of writing, that he's done in ensuing decades that didn't have something in it that made me think, even if the thinking was to work out why his opinion was bullshit. He did work hard to achieve and maintain consistency in his ideas about aesthetic integrity and the right(eous) way to go about being a band. Anybody who attempts to formulate a system of ideas and values - even at the risk of rigidity and self-dogma - is worth paying attention to.
I found myself nodding at these acerbic remarks about Zorn - from an Invisible Jukebox in the Wire, probably '94, or '95 - even as they nestled amidst absolutely ridiculous opinions about Black Sabbath and The Beatles.