Monday, May 30, 2005

Coldplay -- X & Y

A lot of talk has centred on this album supposedly being a sonic departure from earlier Coldplay albums. It isn't. Were you dying to hear "A Rush of Blood To the Head -- The Return" with the odd synth sound thrown in? Guess what, now you can. Thus, Coldplay fans are getting exactly what the doctor ordered, whereas non-fans will dislike this album just as they disliked their other two albums.

On tracks like "Fix You" and "Talk", they crank up the volume a bit and sound like they're playing with some energy. Otherwise, I was struggling to stay alert through track after track of heart-wrenching ballads designed to fill up the next year's worth of awards shows with comments from Justin Timberlake and P. Diddy about how emotional they feel while listening to them.

Saturday, May 28, 2005

Serge Gainsbourg -- Love On the Beat

It's not clear to me whether or not Serge Gainsbourg was putting forth much effort on this, his early 80's synthfunk album. He'd spent a good chunk of his career mumbling along to a backbeat, acting out his beloved dirty old man role on standout albums like "Histoire de Melody Nelson". Despite the mumbling, his voice sounded pungent and alive. On rare occasions, when he felt like it, he could upgrade his mumble and carry an actual tune with a dash of sparkle in his voice, as is the case with the delightful "Les Sucettes". But mostly, he was content to groan along with the music, doing the dirty old man shtick.

Then along came "Love on the Beat", in which the dirty old man became a cranky old man. He sounds like a middle aged guy who needed a load of convincing to make this record, and he's along for the ride, albeit perfunctorily so. Three years later, for "You're Under Arrest", there was no longer any doubt -- the cranky old man was now merely an old man. He wasn't trying, and he didn't care.

A fragile parallel can be drawn to another legendary Jewish mumbler -- Lou Reed, and the album "Rock and Roll Animal" in particular. With both "RNRA" and "Love on the Beat", once you get past the appallingly dated production, there's some half-decent stuff to be found on there. A even better comparison can be made between "Love On the Beat" and an album like Bowery Electric's "Lushlife" . Both were fairly ambitious shifts in style for the artists. Both albums are constructed out of long, looped passages with little variation within them, and even today, both album sounds sleek and funky. Despite these intruiging concepts, the end results are thoroughly mediocre yet infectiously listenable albums (somehow, they're far more interesting when you take advantage of the random play capabilities of your CD or mp3 player).

As the listens pile up, you go through stages with this album according to how you feel about the hokey, English-speaking chorus that coos on every track. First, it's distracting, even grating. Then, as you get used to hearing it, it becomes charming and endearing. Finally, it becomes karaoke material and you find yourself humming the melodies at random points during the day.

One of the few times where Serge sounds deeply immersed in the record is on "Lemon Incest". He trying, he means it. He's singing with his daughter. For instance, the "exquise, esquisse" line is delivered perfectly*, his voice quivering, his demeanour is humbled, he's awed by the thoughts in his head. On "Harley David Son of a Bitch" he sounds good and pissed off, spewing vinegar and ranting caustically. But elsewhere, such as the title track, he's just sort of there, upstaged by the moaning in the background and doing a weak job of conveying the twisted eroticism of the song.

But elsewhere, "I'm the Boy" is as funky as Gainsbourg can possibly be, while "Lemon Incest" is one of the best ten or twelve songs he ever recorded, and it's these sorts of tracks that make the album worth owning.

* This line is fascinating. The use of "esquisse" (spirit, as in a ghostly spirit) highlights the notion that this type of love must exist only in his mind. This is a recurring theme in the remaining lyrics of the song. However, when he sings those words, they come out sounding like "excuses, excuses" -- as in "don't talk to me about logic and morality, I know all about that stuff and I've heard nothing but poor excuses as to why I shouldn't boff my daughter". This sort of English/French double meaning is exactly the sort of thing that Gainsbourg would do (in fact, he does it in the title of the song: Lemon/Zest/Incest) although I can't confirm that it was the intention with this particular line. Anybody?

Billy Corgan -- The Future Embrace

A brief shoutout to Billy Corgan -- the nerdy older brother who used to be cool for talking about Queen when all his peers were talking about punk, but later became an arrogant, annoying douchebag along with his pretentious song titles and forays into poetry (however, the interviews where he rips on Zwan are extremely entertaining, spoken like a "difficult" frontman who's rich enough and self-confident enough to not care about whether he has any indie-cred left. Yes, that's a compliment).

"The Future Embrace" is a gawdawful title if there ever was one, with cover photo to match. But I've got only good things to say about the music. From the four tracks I've heard, this is what "Adore" should have sounded like. To hell with sensitive electro-pop ballads like "Annie-Dog", I want shit blown up big like "Daphne Descends". With louder guitars. Well done, Billy.

Tuesday, May 24, 2005

American Idol Finale

What an immense disappointment that was. I don't know how Fox managed to screw this up, but they did it.

I mean, you've got these two fantastic talents who have been on a collision course for the final since Constantine's elimination (and maybe before that). Their singing styles and personalities -- the quiet country girl, the brash southern rocker -- are nothing like anything we've seen on American Idol in this season or in any other. The fact that these two are so different from the parade of R&B divas, boy band rejects, and Usher wannabes from the previous three seasons is a key reason behind the show's rejuvenation.

Now it's finale time. Inexplicably, somebody thought that it would a good idea to have Bo and Carrie sing treacle-drenched cheesy original ballads instead of the types of music that actually brought them to the dance. And apparently one ballad wasn't enough -- they had to sing two each. The same two, so that we heard four different songs tonight instead of six.

The other two songs were well done, but they sung them earlier in the competition. Naturally, those were the only moments when Bo and Carrie looked totally relaxed and were enjoying themselves. In complete contrast, neither one seemed comfortable with the ballads, particularly during the strained opening notes. Carrie seemed downright scared and in general, she looked about seven years older than usual. Bo looked nervous and ill-at-ease for the first time this season.

It's not like Fox doesn't know how to run a finale with two contrasting kinds of performers. The Ruben-Clay finale ran perfectly in that regard, with Clay showcasing his theatrical histrionics ("Bridge Over Troubled Water") and Ruben playing his soul/gospel part to perfection ("Flying Without Wings"). So why are they suddenly pretending that the final two are Tamyra Grey and LaToya London?

Who should win? Who was better? It's hard to say, because they've never sung those kinds of songs before. Not to mention that neither were at their best because they've never sung those kinds of songs before. I think Carrie sang better, since those numbers are better suited to her range, but Bo looked more comfortable out there. In that sense, this episode was no different than many other episodes from this season. It was close, but Carrie has never been in jeopardy at any point this season, therefore I think she would have had to seriously mess up in order to lose the title. She didn't mess up, and Bo couldn't put the hammer down on her this week (unlike last week), so Carrie will be YOUR American Idol.

Monday, May 23, 2005

Wolf Eyes, Gastric Female Reflex @ Horseshoe

As I walk in, GFR are already playing. Or maybe not. I'm hearing a tape drone reminiscent of Spiritualized "Symphony Space", and a few random blips and bursts of static. A few minutes later, they take things up a notch by graduating to the sound of cables being plugged and unplugged from ungrounded amplifiers. As they finally move toward denser, scraping noise, dryly introducing the songs through a distorted mic as they go, I think to myself: it would be cool to play in an improv group and before each "song", somebody calls out a mood (e.g. "this is our happy song", or "this is a song about feeling hungry") and the ensemble has to immediately react and play in a manner that evokes that mood. I'm sure that somebody has thought of this already.

Wolf Eyes are considerably more interesting. First off, you've got to appreciate a band that builds almost all of their instruments, with the total cost of said instruments being exceeded by the cost of gas required to drive to each city to play the gig. These toys look fragile but are probably built like tanks considering how much they are hauled around. Besides, if anything was so difficult to replace then they'd probably refrain from dripping sweat all over their electronic gadgetry.

Second, they're a black metal band that's posing as a noise band. This is 1000% A-OK by me. They might start out playing electroacoustic improv using gongs, miked cymbals, and amplifying the sound of rubbing steel poles against thin steel (a terrifying combination of metal on metal), but that gives way to thudding synthetic beats during which the band menbers toss their bodies into their instruments. After the screaming and hyper-aggressive guitar playing is over, they find a little more in the tank and proceed down the pitch-dark industrial drone path of Brighter Death Now. One cannot get enough of Brighter Death Now.

Saturday, May 21, 2005

Notes, etc.

• Yesterday was the final day to buy presale passports for Mutek. Yesterday, I printed out the third draft of my thesis. Connect the two and draw your own conclusions as to why my head isn't in the right place for a trip to Montreal this year. I know I swore this past January that the final paragraph of my 2003 recap would not be my Mutek epitaph. I might have been wrong about that.

• Bo vs Carrie ... for weeks, it's been obvious that these two were destined to face off in the final, and truly, no other matchup could have possibly measured up. I have no idea who will win, I have no idea who should win, and I have no idea who I want to win. Sure, Carrie is still the girl I love to love, but she's been hot and cold over the past few weeks, whereas Bo has cemented himself as the AI rock n roll Jesus and has made everyone doubt that Constantine Maroulis was ever considered to be in his league. Carrie has never been in the bottom three, and the cumulative momentum that she's built up over the course of the competition has carried her into the final despite a somewhat shaky set of performances this past week. If I absolutely must predict a winner, then it's Bo. Since the "Freebird" debacle week in which he found himself in the bottom two, he's been nothing short of outstanding. He hasn't shown the slightest sign of nerves, either.

• I picked up the latest issue of "Grooves" mag today, and there's something weird about it. Flipping through the articles and reviews, it felt like there were a lot fewer "The Wire"-friendly underground obscurities, in favour of more Pitchfork and blogger-friendly MIA, Caribou, LCD Soundsystem, Stereolab, Prefuse 73, etc. This isn't a criticism, just an observation. The writers are the same, so I expect that the articles will still be high quality, and "Grooves" seems to change its focus every six months (for which I have praised them in the past) so it's not like I have a reason to be concerned here. Unless this is the start of a trend where they gradually shift away from the under-underground and write about more artists that I've actually heard of ...

• SPICE GIRLS REUNION. I should be happier about this, but I'm fearful that this reunion will suck, just like most reunions do. At the time, I was pretty much the only indie-head I knew who rose up to defend the Spice Girls. Now, pop is cool, whereas indie is spoken about in more of a hushed whisper. Vindication! In North America, where the Spice Girls were always seen as a marketing joke, we'll see if they're given any of the long-overdue respect that they deserve.

Tuesday, May 17, 2005

I don't need no MIA no more

I rarely feel the need to throw in my two cents on the music blog issue du jour, which is why there wasn't a single word written here about MIA in the leadup to/uberhype about her new album "Arular". I didnt' write anything because I don't think her music is all that good. She's got a few killer beats, I'll give her that, but her vocals don't interest me in the slightest. As for her politics, I'll offer two words and that's it. Sensationalism. Contradictory.

Nonetheless, I adore the Richard X remix of "Goodies" by Ciara featuring MIA, far more so than the original. What can I say, I'm a sucker for the 4/4 stomper. And now that I have been led to cry.on.my.console's mashup "Superlangalang" ("Galang" + sounds from the original Super Mario Bros video game), I have no further use for MIA. Her best role is as the off-kilter sideshow freak, which is a role she plays to perfection on both these tracks. The Ciara vocal was recorded especially for the remix and it doesn't require much technique other than drawling "ain't no nookie for you here" over and over again. She's like the slightly unstable older sister who is keeping an eye out for baby Ciara. Of course, the recasting of the "Galang" vocal is all a matter of context. Using it to soundtrack a pinball machine melody makes all the difference between rave-up and full-on batty.

Thursday, May 12, 2005

Autechre @ The Opera House

I didn't catch the names of the opening duo* last night, but they pulled off the finest Autechre impression I've ever heard. Much like Ae's new "Untilted", they channelled the noise and chaos of "Confield" without making it feel like an endurance contest. Halfway through their set, they seemed to abandon the random blasts of noise and static in favour of chest-rattling bass to go with their jackhammer beats. "They do a better Ae than Ae do themselves these days", I thought at the time ...

But the night unmistakably belonged to the headliners. They slammed straight into the sort of harsh, minimal beats that instantly recalled "Anvil Vapre" and the "Basscadet" remixes. The first half of their 90-minute set was dominated by these body-rocking sounds, along with intervals that could only be described as Autechre getting all dubbed out. During the second half, they faltered somewhat with an overly long cooldown session in the style of the relatively bland, understated "Draft 7:30", keeping in mind that "Draft 7:30" on a booming sound system is immeasurably more powerful than hearing it at home. But they recovered to revisit the dense, scattershot beats they started with.

All this, plus they managed to rock the crowd considerably more in comparison to the other two times I've seen them. The first time, at a rave in 1996 held in a remote warehouse, inside a cramped room covered in silver foil, the dancing carried on in spite of them while the space they played in served mainly as the hallway for those in transit toward the deep house room. The second time, in 2001 (also at the Opera House) was notable for its eighty minutes of hellish "Confield"-esque mania, where hellish = exhilirating for me, but intolerable for 85% of the people in attendance who clearly had no idea what they were in store for (the venue was probably half full by the time they finished). This time, you could actually mistake the floor of the Opera House for people having fun at a dance party.

* update 12/05/05: they played with SND and DJ Rob Hall. You'd think the papers here would have advertised this. SND? They blew me away when I saw them the first time too. Their records are such bland clicksncuts fare but their live shows are explosive. Why?

Sunday, May 08, 2005

Xiu Xiu -- La Foret

In a word -- perplexing.

This is the first time in ten years that the band responsible for my fave album of the year delivered a follow-up album the very next year (Blur, "Parklife", #1 from 1994 ... followed up the next year with "The Great Escape", which was my #4 of 1995). It's not so surprising considering that I'm a big Spiritualized fan. So, the Xiu Xiu album is uniquely anticipated around these parts.

My initial reaction is that Jamie Stewart wrote the album with solo live performances in mind. I've heard a few 2004 live recordings and they're usually quite sparse, even on some of the busier "Fabulous Muscles" tracks. "La Foret" retreats to the emptier, drone-y style of "A Promise", with few rhythmic elements, minimal accompanient, and the most improvisational feel of any Xiu Xiu album to date. Maybe I'm rushing to judgement about the improvisational element (there's a fine line between "improvisational" and "formless", particularly for Xiu Xiu, who love the use of silence in their recordings, never moreso on "La Foret"), because I'm feeling a drunken, caustic anger in the album similar to John Cale's "Music For a New Society", which *is* improvised to a large extent. And it took me a while to appreciate that album, in fact, I didn't care for it much until I revisited it after hearing the live versions from "Fragments of a Rainy Season".

The album seems to end weakly, as "Dangerous You Shouldn't Be Here" and "Yellow Raspberry" slowly slip away in a whimper. The louder tracks, such as "Mousey Toy" and "Pox" are more instant, as is the quiet but compelling "Rose of Sharon".

I'm slowly coming around to it.

Friday, May 06, 2005

Roots Manuva @ Lee's Palace ...

... with Priest + M. Sayyid (ex-APC) as the openers, to my considerable surprise and delight. Keeping the beats tough and simple, they did their best to work the sleepy crowd, including several sharp freestyles along the way. They repeatedly mentioned hwo they'd been in the studio for over a year and were happy to be back on stage, and their demeanours certainly showed that.

But make no mistake about it, this crowd came to see Roots Manuva, who spent the first half of the show looking bewildered and shocked at the mammoth reactions he was getting. Of course, the beats were top-notch throughout, but he started out a bit stiff, and his energy couldn't match the crowds' until he dropped "Witness", at which point the place completely exploded and Roots dug down and stepped up his game. After that, he seemed to get more confortable, even throughout the puzzling non-reactions to some of the new "Awfully Deep" material. Nevertheless, I left the venue wondering whether people couldn't get into "Colossal Insight" because it was new, because it was played too soon after "Witness" blew out the crowd, or because it was disco played in front of a crowd that only wanted to hear hip-hop.

Like last October, this blog has become a gig calendar, and that's going to continue with Autechre next week. It's also true that a good chunk of my time normally spent thinking and writing about music has been newly occupied with thoughts about baseball, and "Yard Work" in particular. But rest assured that this blog isn't going anywhere. Not like anyone was concerned that it was. But just in case you were.