Theories of obscurity: Separating the real from The Residents
After 40-plus years, we're no closer to understanding who they are (and that's how they like it)
In his entry on art-rock enigmas The Residents in the Trouser Press Record Guide, Ira Robbins speculates that the reason they chose to remain anonymous was to prevent any gossip about their personal lives, leaving nothing to contemplate but the music. As The Residents enter their 40th year with a Feb. 16 date at Turner Hall, it’s clear that just the opposite is true: The music has won them plenty of devoted fans, but what’s garnered the most attention is their total unwillingness to play it straight about who or what they really are. Here The A.V. Club examines some of the stranger events in Residents history, whether they’re likely to be true, and what it all means.
TIMELINE: THE RESIDENTS
The foundational myth: 1966-1972
The Residents started out as buddies in Shreveport, La., then headed west until their truck broke down in San Mateo. They took to living in a boarding house, where they were inspired by mysterious European composer “N. Senada” to make music. A Warner executive christened the band after returning its demo tape: Not knowing who to send it to, he addressed the package to “The Residents.”
Is it true? N. Senada, despite having been rumored to be everyone from Captain Beefheart to Harry Partch, almost certainly didn’t exist. The cross-country trip is possible, though it’s a happy coincidence they happened to break down in San Francisco instead of, say, Albuquerque. The band name story might be true; at least they’re not called “Return To Sender.”
What’s the point? Those Shreveport origins would account for the East Texas accent of the anonymous vocalist who frequently sings lead on Residents albums. The cross-country trip and the phantasmal N. Senada plug them into two key scenes: the “Summer of Love” and the European avant-garde. The demo story elevates an otherwise dull name to the level of a meet-cute.
