Since long before I started writing for The Wire, I have been a huge fan of the Invisible Jukebox series. It’s a wider-ranging version of Downbeat’s jazz-centred Blindfold Test, wherein a writer plays music for an artist without telling them who is performing it, and the artist reacts with guesses and analysis. The list of Invisible Jukebox entries over the decades is incredibly long and diverse, encompassing everyone from Mark E Smith to Ice-T to Marshall Allen to Annea Lockwood. Sometimes the interviewee will be sceptical and even acerbic about what they’re hearing; other times they’ll be reverent and even fannishly giddy. But almost every time, the discussion reveals a lot about how that artist thinks about music. Here are some of my favourite Invisible Jukebox entries from The Wire’s long history.

Invisible Jukebox: Laurie Anderson, The Wire 210, August 2001

Typically open and engaged, Laurie Anderson reacts to Mike Barnes’s picks by telling stories, admitting biases and questioning her own assumptions. Usually a positive person, she talks about adoring Williams S Burroughs because he was so negative, and hating everything about Patti Smith – until Lou Reed convinced her to go see her play... and she loved it. Most fascinatingly, she uses ideas provoked by the music of Nam June Paik, Philip Glass and Ryuichi Sakamoto to probe into her own conceptions of what art can be.

Key quote: “When you are faced with the details or the actual sound or the reality of music or image, hopefully your theories are challenged. Because theories are really gross.”

Invisible Jukebox: Derek Bailey, The Wire 178, December 1998

This is probably the most infamous Invisible Jukebox ever, at least among the circles I run in. Bailey is so flabbergasted at the very idea of listening to a record that he’s constantly irritated by the entire exercise. Tester Ben Watson is a good sport about Bailey’s incessant defiance, though he does admit at one point that he finds it “damn irritating”. Beyond the hilariousness of the exchange, Bailey’s responses turn up interesting ideas about playing music in the moment versus repeatedly listening to it after the fact. “If you could only play a record once, imagine the intensity you’d have to bring to the listening!” he says when listening to Conlon Nancarrow. Later he submits an addendum to clarify that to him, the act of creating is far more important than the resulting creation.

Key quote: “Recording’s fine if it wasn’t for fucking records!”

Invisible Jukebox: Jaimie Branch, The Wire 429, November 2019

The enthusiasm and energy that Jaimie Branch brought to music is abundant during her Invisible Jukebox. Her reactions to the records that George Grella plays for her exude pure joy but also clear analysis to show why she’s so excited. She emphasises how vital it is that music moves bodies (“otherwise, that’s just a brain thing”), and she reveals a wide range of influences on her own work, from Chet Baker to William Parker. Reading her responses now is bittersweet, knowing that such a bright light was extinguished so tragically early. But it still makes you hopeful about what music can do.

Key quote: “[free jazz] is a form of protest because it is a fire you have to put out. It’s burning now, it’s been burning…and it’s going to keep burning brighter and brighter.”

Invisible Jukebox: Lydia Lunch, The Wire 114, August 1993

Any good Invisible Jukebox participant should tell the truth, and some of the best are brutally honest. In that sense, there’s probably no artist more well-suited for the format than Lydia Lunch, who seemingly has never said anything she didn’t truly believe. Her 1993 entry, conducted by Hopey Glass, offers biting takes on spoken word, rap, opera, cocktail music, and – her favourite of the bunch – Alice Cooper. She calls opera singers “oral castrators”. praises the bitterness of Mark E Smith and the raunchiness of Eartha Kitt, and says the only good thing about The Slits was their “mud suits”. It’s a prime example of Lunch’s ability to shoot barbs with real substance; nothing she says here is merely snark for its own sake.

Key quote: “You can say that rap music is misogynist, but it’s misanthropic, which is the beauty to me. It’s the only form of music which hates the rest of the world as much as I do.”

Invisible Jukebox: Thurston Moore and Lee Ranaldo, The Wire 108, February 1993

This 1993 entry with Sonic Youth’s Thurston Moore and Lee Ranaldo has always stuck in my memory due to Mark Sinker’s brilliant idea to play them Neil Young’s Arc, an album of live feedback collage that Moore and Ranaldo themselves convinced Young to make when they toured with him. Each guitarist throws out many guesses (Last Exit, Splatter Trio, Sun City Girls) before realising they’ve been stumped (Moore: “You win on that one!”; Ranaldo: “The most inspired choice yet!”) But the rest of this discussion is fascinating too, provoking surprising thoughts on Sun Ra, Derek Bailey and Carcass – including a disagreement over whether Sonic Youth was influenced by Black Sabbath (Moore says yes, Ranaldo no). And Ranaldo makes up for the Young stumping by identifying exactly which side of Lou Reed’s Metal Machine Music Sinker is playing.

Key quote (from Moore): “I have 120 Sun Ra records.”

Invisible Jukebox: Sunny Murray, The Wire 199, September 2000

Sunny Murray could tell a lot of stories, and Dan Warburton gets many great ones during their Invisible Jukebox conversation. We hear about how Cecil Taylor drove Murray away from “basic rhythms”, how he thought a lot of his comrades were more talk than action when it came to politics, how he was originally slated to drum on Albert Ayler’s jazz/rock fusion LP New Grass, and how intensely he and Ayler reacted when they learned of Eric Dolphy’s death. Along the way Murray offers sharp insights about the crucial differences between himself and drummers of his time, while always showing strong respect for his peers, and ultimately capturing how amazing his era of free jazz was.

Key quote: “Guys like me, Rashied [Aii ] and Milford [Graves], we have no choice but to stay free. I swing a swing that’s hipper than Elvin [Jones]’s, but I can’t sell it. It’s just for me.”

Invisible Jukebox: Jim O’Rourke, The Wire 179, January 1999

Rob Young’s Invisible Jukebox with Jim O’Rourke came at an interesting time in his career: he was about to turn 30, Gastr Del Sol had recently ended, and soon he would be a member of Sonic Youth. So he was at a crossroads, making his reactions both confident and questioning – sometimes flippant, sometimes inspiring. He doubts whether “abstract” sound can actually exist, touts Ray Russell over Sonny Sharrock, uses a Slint record to explain why everyone from Louisville is deranged, and explains how John Zorn gave him money to move out of his parents’ house. Most interesting are the spots where he gushes about fellow artists, particularly Fennesz and Peter Rehberg, who he would soon team up with for a series of excellent Fenn O’Berg collaborations.

Key quote: “I could play with good timing if I wanted, I just don’t care. I let other people have good technique.”

Invisible Jukebox: Mike Watt, The Wire 320, October 2012

Anyone who has met Mike Watt knows he can talk forever. So tester Jessica Hopper makes the wise decision in his Invisible Jukebox to let him speak uninterrupted, carving his answers from what must have been a long chat. The result is a Watt interview that truly captures what it’s like to hear him speak. He’s incurably energetic about music, enthusiastic about all his experiences, and remarkably open about his emotions when it comes to everything he’s been through. His love for his mom, love for his late bandmate D Boon, and love for John Coltrane all feel a part of one big flowing river of admiration, and help explain about how writing and playing helps him work through it all.

Key quote: “When D Boon got killed I didn’t know what to do… Still don’t know what to do in some ways.”

Invisible Jukebox: Andrew WK, The Wire 289, March 2008

It’s probably cheating to pick an Invisible Jukebox entry that I conducted, but I’m doing it anyway. I chose this one not because I think I did a great job with it, but because talking at length to Andrew WK was inspiring, and I hope that reading what he said is too. Discussing records by his friends (Wolf Eyes, Sightings), his colleagues (Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry, Tom Smith), and his heroes (Boredoms, OM), WK explains how he got into music, who guided and inspired him, and what philosophies he developed as a result – particularly his ideas about how having fun can be serious business. It turns out “Party Hard” isn’t just a muscle-rock anthem, it’s a way of looking at life as something to revel in. WK’s public presence has been a bit scarce lately, but I trust that whatever he’s doing now, he’s enjoying it.

Key quote: “If something really does feel good to us, we should have the courage and ability to eliminate any ideas that it should not be enjoyed.”

Invisible Jukebox: Theresa Wong x Ellen Fullman, The Wire 452, October 2021

During the pandemic, The Wire conducted Invisible Jukebox entries by asking artists to test each other, rather than have writers do it. It was a fruitful idea, and one of the best results came when married couple Theresa Wong and Ellen Fullman agreed to participate. Their thoughts on the music and people that have inspired them, including Fred Frith, Gabby Wen and Phill Niblock, smoothly drift from ideas and technique to feelings and emotions, showing that both are not only valid responses to art, but intertwined ones. Both artists have a knack for describing their internal reactions – as well as a perception of how sound works and permeates space – that helps expand their understanding of the music they’re hearing.

Key quote (Theresa Wong): “I think being immersed in so many cultures during my life has given me a certain plasticity in the way I see things, because my experiences have often contradicted each other.”


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