Music seldom came more noir than that of Alan Vega and Suicide. He sang like a man with a permanent slouch, spitting out words from the corner of this mouth between drags of a cheap cigarette. He may have worn sparkly jackets but he sounded like a growl in a tenchcoat, a pouting avatar of rock and roll menace. He was to the '50s what vaporwave was to the '80s.
Bye Bye Bayou came from his self-titled 1980 album. It's 8 minutes of menace cloaked in swampy miasma and gunshot drumming. If you only know it from the LCD Soundsystem, this is both darker and more troubled. It's the sound of a man completely out of his depth and fronting his way out of a deadly situation with masterful rock minimalism.