Best Posthumous Live Album

Few local bands were ever more misunderstood, or more hated in certain quarters, than Harry Pussy, whose squalling feedback-drenched performances managed to clear rooms across Miami for a memorable chunk of the mid-Nineties. The more this no-wave trio was feted elsewhere -- saluted onstage by Nirvana's Kurt Cobain, spotlighted by...

May 11, 2000

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Few local bands were ever more misunderstood, or more hated in certain quarters, than Harry Pussy, whose squalling feedback-drenched performances managed to clear rooms across Miami for a memorable chunk of the mid-Nineties. The more this no-wave trio was feted elsewhere -- saluted onstage by Nirvana's Kurt Cobain, spotlighted by Sonic Youth's Thurston Moore during his guest-VJ slot on MTV -- the more South Floridians scratched their heads and passed the Tylenol. Which may have been apropos. As the band attacked its instruments during (interminable for some) fifteen-minute sets, the message often seemed to be: "We suffered for our art; now it's your turn!" Harry Pussy launched its final sonic assault in May 1997 at Churchill's. That parting shot has been enshrined in its entirety on this posthumously released live album. Aside from capturing the outfit in all its shrieking glory, the record also serves as a welcome reminder that not everybody's creative response to our burg's fabled sun and surf is "Don't worry. Be happy."

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