Chrome and the Industrial Dilemma

Chrome and the Industrial Dilemma

It’s not surprising that Chrome has had been cited as an influential act in a variety of disparate genres. Recording for a few decades will have that affect if you’re not a buncha hacks. And these guys were not. Forming in the Bay Area during the mid ‘70s, Chrome initially didn’t include a gentleman named Helios Creed, who would ostensibly become the face of the group in addition to directing the sound that the band would cop over time. And on its ’77 debut, sans Creed, Chrome was still able to rouse a metallic punk racket, even if latter efforts would be hailed as benchmarks for years to come.

If not for the weirdoes in Devo, Chrome might be even more of a startling thing to behold. Whereas the Akron combo was able to insert a bit of jest into its robotic punk gestures, Chrome was all serious circuit boards. The band’s second and third albums, Alien Soundtracks and Half Machine Lip Moves, are comprised of aggressive shards of guitar and keyboard, but are maintained within the frame of punk – most likely as a result of band members not really knowing how else to present the circus that was Chrome. But while these two discs are – and rightly so – perceived as ‘70s classics, it wouldn’t be all too long before they would branch out into new territory - even if each of Chrome’s previous releases had hinted at what the ensembles fourth album would be.

Each of those first three efforts can be seen as the lead up to Red Exposure. In an ever deepening musical relationship, Creed and founding member Damon Edge wrangle John Cyborg deeper into creepy, electro rock territory. No one is an unwitting participant, but this disc would mark the drastic departure from earlier work. Gone are most signs of punky pacings or even too much low pitched snarlings that defined those early releases. “Eyes on Mars” should be considered the exception here. It’s quickened pace and substantially more nasty vocal line is only undercut by that razor thin slice of synth that accompanies it all. Towards the close of the effort, the band even comes off a bit like Hawkwind gliding to the song’s conclusion on a whir of electronics. It works rather well considering the change in approach that the band was in the middle of figuring. Elsewhere, though, there was a perpetual grind of keyboards and a mid paced drum beat to make buoyant the constant warblings of Creed.

The differences between what was going during Red Exposure and other works from Chrome might not alienate fans of the group’s earliest work, but it could. Regardless of that or even the general perception of the band by punkers at large, Chrome seemed new – and much of what they were doing was. Yea, Eno had been kicking around for what must have seemed an eternity by 1980, but he wasn’t terrifying. Chrome was. And this record – if not earlier ones – made it seem as if this Bay Area group was willing to swoop down out of the black of night and abduct your kids. I don’t think they ever did, but Red Exposure would’ve been an appropriate soundtrack.