The Silver Apples: Psychedelic Loop Pioneers

In the late ‘60s, a synthesizer shaman named Simeon Coxe III and drummer Danny Taylor formed an electronic psych band known as the Silver Apples. With the minimal setup of a drum kit and a homemade oscillator (a makeshift synthesizer built from found junk — mythically referred to as ‘The Simeon’), the Apples trail blazed new directions in electronic music. Despite having no formal musical training, Simeon Coxe III became an unsung innovator in the evolution of synthesized sound. The heavily influential Silver Apples were way ahead of their time; their sound ripe with rhythm, abstract loops, alien tones and spooky samples. In a recent conversation, Simeon reflects on a lifetime of art and music.

What do you like about the cyclical nature of loops? How do you think loops affect a listener’s psyche?

I love loops! Repetition breeds a groove; and groove produces a deep-seated primitive, soulful, sexual and happy response called — dancing. In the ‘60s, when we would play, at first there would be both puzzlement and curiosity. Then someone would start some movement of the body, that impulsive thing that we all somehow posses. Then another would follow and another, and eventually all was fine with the world. We did the best we could do with the limited equipment that we had and loops were the answer. We played patterns out of necessity.

What role did trial and error play in your approach to music? How often would you add to or take away parts from ‘The Simeon’ (‘The Simeon’ was Coxe’s homespun oscillator)?

It was all trial and error. I have no formal training in electronics and very little in music. The so-called ‘Simeon’ has changed almost every day of its entire life. I’m always monkeying around with it. Yesterday, I made a trigger for the middle oscillator out of a switch from Radio Shack and a door hinge. I took risks because I was too unskilled and too poor to do things in the conventional way. We’d improvise a lot. I’m from an era where there were hardly any synthesizers, so I had to make one. I’d buy new parts for ‘The Simeon’ at a secondhand electronics shop down on Canal Street; take them home, hook them up and see what happened.

Describe the ‘outsider’ art scene of New York City in the late ‘60s. What were some memorable moments from that era?

Street art was just becoming a phenomena and our manager, Barry Bryant, was extremely into it. He would call it ‘Vigilante Art’. His projects always involved dozens of people and enormous stencils made out of butcher paper. I distinctly remember one template that said, ‘N I X O N’, cut out in letters about seven feet tall. Only the ‘X’ in the middle of his name was replaced with a swastika. At about 3AM in the morning, twenty of us, armed with two hundred cans of spray paint, stenciled ‘N I X # O N’ up-and-down 5th Avenue. We got really sloshed afterwards celebrating because we didn’t get arrested.

What were some of the most memorable shows that you played in NYC in the ‘60s?

The most memorable shows were definitely the ones that we played in the parks in the city. We were dubbed the New York Sound, as we were active in both the open-air concert and club scene. In the ‘60s, The City of New York promoted a lot of free concerts with Woodstock like atmospheres. It was always fun to play outside either in the day or at night. Our daily routine centered on the Silver Apples. On most days, I would be rehearsing, recording, performing or at my bench with a soldering iron. I remember one time; I got so pissed off at an oscillator that I was working on that I impulsively threw it out of my second floor window. Fortunately, it was still plugged-in to the wall by its cord. When I calmed down and went to the window to retrieve it, there was a tiny cluster of Japanese tourists taking pictures of it swinging back and forth. So I decided to leave it there.

Do you pay attention to your surreal dream world? What do dreams mean to you?

My dreams are very frequent and in vivid colors, but always about mundane things like rearranging furniture.

Do you have any memories of voodoo from your childhood in New Orleans?

Yeah, people talked about voodoo all the time when I was growing up. We used to make dolls of our teachers and throw rocks at them. I make a killer pot of red beans and rice with Andouille. Oh man!

You’ve seen Sun Ra play? What was that experience like?

He played every Thursday night at this tiny bar on the Lower East Side called ‘Slugs’. On many occasions, my girlfriend and I would be the only customers in the joint. Sun Ra taught me a lot about attitude. There would be Sun Ra, of course behind his organ, but the other musicians would be all over the place — a bassist out on the sidewalk and a clarinet player would come sit at your table. You’d head to the men’s room and there would be a member of the Arkestra standing on top of the toilet — playing sax. Attitude! If it feels right, go for it!