"Its soldiers' daily duties included observing and patrolling the mix", 102 minutes
I can't believe it took me this long to make a long ambient mix with no-gimmicks. No thirty minute beatless intros to a beats-heavy mix and no noisy ambient interludes (tricks I've used in the past a bunch of times). Every track breathes deeply, often for ten minutes or more, everything is cloaked in a thick aural haze and the drift speed is held to a glacial pace throughout.
Sunday, March 31, 2019
Tuesday, March 26, 2019
Reviewing every Eurovision Song Contest Winner (1962, 1963, 1964)
1962. Isabelle Aubret, "Un premier amour" (France).
With its third winner in five years, France established itself as the powerhouse in the early years of the contest. "Un premier amour" isn't as grating as "Tom Pilibi" or as dramatic as "Dors, mon amour", but its easily the most nondescript. Even after multiple listens, I found myself not remembering a thing about it other than the repeated title. You might never forget your first love, but you won't have any trouble forgetting about this song the instant its over. Not bad, not offensive, just boring and devoid of colour or character. 2/10.
The song leads off with the deep twang of Jorgen Ingmann's guitar, which for this contest, is like an sudden infusion of punk energy. By becoming the first duo to win Eurovision, the Ingmanns redirected the focus away from the ever present orchestra and towards their own performance. The orchestra is still there, but for the first time I feel like I'm watching a pair of artists in concert rather than a glitzy singing contest. It's a simple, mildly uptempo song with a hint of swing and a head nod to rock and roll. They don't try to do too much with it, which is fine because no histrionics are needed. By breaking free of wistful balladry, they've done enough to be memorable. 7/10.
1964. Gigliola Cinquetti, "Non ho l'eta" (Italy).
With its third winner in five years, France established itself as the powerhouse in the early years of the contest. "Un premier amour" isn't as grating as "Tom Pilibi" or as dramatic as "Dors, mon amour", but its easily the most nondescript. Even after multiple listens, I found myself not remembering a thing about it other than the repeated title. You might never forget your first love, but you won't have any trouble forgetting about this song the instant its over. Not bad, not offensive, just boring and devoid of colour or character. 2/10.
1963. Grethe and Jørgen Ingmann, "Dansevise" (Denmark).
1964. Gigliola Cinquetti, "Non ho l'eta" (Italy).
Cinquetti was just sixteen years old at the time of her winning performance and became the youngest winner ever (a record not surpassed until 1986). She sings with a shy, almost awkwardly restrained demeanor, but considering the song is about a meek young girl who's not ready to fall in love, it works for her. The music has a proto-Spectorian grandeur dating from the years right before Spector nailed his formula. The best comparison would be The Paris Sisters' "I Love How You Love Me" -- innocent and heartwarming, a grown-up subject matter sung in a manner that's palatable for teenagers. I can understand why this became an international hit in several languages. Cinquetti would return to Eurovision ten years later with another great song, but picked the wrong year for her comeback, finishing second to the most famous winning act ever. 8/10.
Thursday, March 14, 2019
Reviewing every Eurovision Song Contest winner (1960, 1961)
1960. Jacqueline Boyer, "Tom Pillibi" (France).
Apparently the early years of Eurovision were all about big fluffy ballads and tongue in cheek character profiles of flawed lovers. Judging by his name, "Tom Pillibi" is likely a rich English philanderer, although the lyrics don't specifically mention where he's from. The cadence and vaguely ironic tone of the lyrics suggest that Britpop came to Eurovision five or thirty five years early (it depends on which generation you're from). But the song's plastic charm doesn't extend beyond the first few lines, and somehow I felt like it would never end, as if I was listening to a seven minute lyrical epic rather than a three minute radio friendly song contest entry. Its cheeriness might be pleasing for some, but I found this song nearly intolerable. 2/10.
1961. Jean-Claude Pascal, "Nous les amoureux" (Luxembourg).
I'm reminded here of a familiar theme in 50's and early 60's balladry -- the young couple who are furiously in love and fight to stay together even though "they" (usually their parents) want to break them apart. This song is set to light jazz and carries none of the desperation or passion that you'd expect for it to work. Who "they" are is never explained, we're told they're idiots and haters, but without a personality behind the description, they're just weasel words. Hating your parents is cool and relatable, anonymous "idiots" might as well be nothing but bad drivers. Plus, Pascal is no teenager, he's a 34-year old bland singer in a suit. Yet another new low in the early years of the contest. 1/10.
Apparently the early years of Eurovision were all about big fluffy ballads and tongue in cheek character profiles of flawed lovers. Judging by his name, "Tom Pillibi" is likely a rich English philanderer, although the lyrics don't specifically mention where he's from. The cadence and vaguely ironic tone of the lyrics suggest that Britpop came to Eurovision five or thirty five years early (it depends on which generation you're from). But the song's plastic charm doesn't extend beyond the first few lines, and somehow I felt like it would never end, as if I was listening to a seven minute lyrical epic rather than a three minute radio friendly song contest entry. Its cheeriness might be pleasing for some, but I found this song nearly intolerable. 2/10.
1961. Jean-Claude Pascal, "Nous les amoureux" (Luxembourg).
I'm reminded here of a familiar theme in 50's and early 60's balladry -- the young couple who are furiously in love and fight to stay together even though "they" (usually their parents) want to break them apart. This song is set to light jazz and carries none of the desperation or passion that you'd expect for it to work. Who "they" are is never explained, we're told they're idiots and haters, but without a personality behind the description, they're just weasel words. Hating your parents is cool and relatable, anonymous "idiots" might as well be nothing but bad drivers. Plus, Pascal is no teenager, he's a 34-year old bland singer in a suit. Yet another new low in the early years of the contest. 1/10.
Friday, March 08, 2019
Diary of Musical Thoughts Podcast Episode 41
"They mix the path of these strange steps", 55 minutes
My latest attempt at a "fun", super-clubby mix. Lots of proggy house and techno, tracks with vocals, extended remixes all over the place, 25 years of music represented.
My latest attempt at a "fun", super-clubby mix. Lots of proggy house and techno, tracks with vocals, extended remixes all over the place, 25 years of music represented.
Two anniversaries: Yeah Yeah Yeahs, "It's Blitz", Animal Collective, "Merriweather Post Pavilion"
This post was inspired by "It's Blitz", which was released ten years (!!) ago this week. I hadn't listened to the full album in years, but guess what? If this album was released tomorrow it would still blow minds. Which rock band working today (indie or not) could combine the pure elation of disco with dramatic string-led balladry while still maintaining their garage rock edge? Arcade Fire tried a similar thing with "Reflector" and failed miserably. Nobody could pull it off except Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and as the week came to a close I was wondering how there could possibly be 22 albums better than "It's Blitz" released in the decade of the 00's.
Tenth anniversary pieces for "Merriweather Post Pavilion", released in the first week of January 2009, took on a different tone entirely. Whereas "It's Blitz" sound better than ever these days, even talking about "Merriweather" feels like reminiscing about ancient history. It might as well have been released twenty or even thirty years ago. It sounds so much like a dead concept from an entirely different era. At the time, I'd been overdosing for over a year on Animal Collective recordings that were based almost entirely on the new songs. When "Merriweather" finally came out, I hardly needed it anymore, the album already existed for me in a live format, and the recorded version could do nothing but disappoint. It was not too different from my reaction to GYBE's "Yanqui U.X.O." in 2002. Animal Collective were a niche indie band whose hype made them and consumed them in quick order. I live that they've continued to do their own thing and never tried settling into the rut of copying their most famous album over and over. But I rarely feel like listening to "Merriweather" these days, and in fact, I rarely listened to it in 2009 too.
Nonetheless, it's a bit sad that many critics chose to remember "Merriweather Post Pavilion" via "hey remember when we all liked this? LOL" pseudo nostalgia. But it's more than balanced by the pure joy that comes out of remembering how great "It's Blitz" was and still goddamned is.
Tenth anniversary pieces for "Merriweather Post Pavilion", released in the first week of January 2009, took on a different tone entirely. Whereas "It's Blitz" sound better than ever these days, even talking about "Merriweather" feels like reminiscing about ancient history. It might as well have been released twenty or even thirty years ago. It sounds so much like a dead concept from an entirely different era. At the time, I'd been overdosing for over a year on Animal Collective recordings that were based almost entirely on the new songs. When "Merriweather" finally came out, I hardly needed it anymore, the album already existed for me in a live format, and the recorded version could do nothing but disappoint. It was not too different from my reaction to GYBE's "Yanqui U.X.O." in 2002. Animal Collective were a niche indie band whose hype made them and consumed them in quick order. I live that they've continued to do their own thing and never tried settling into the rut of copying their most famous album over and over. But I rarely feel like listening to "Merriweather" these days, and in fact, I rarely listened to it in 2009 too.
Nonetheless, it's a bit sad that many critics chose to remember "Merriweather Post Pavilion" via "hey remember when we all liked this? LOL" pseudo nostalgia. But it's more than balanced by the pure joy that comes out of remembering how great "It's Blitz" was and still goddamned is.
Wednesday, March 06, 2019
Reviewing every Eurovision Song Contest winner (1958, 1959)
1958. André Claveau, "Dors, mon amour" (France)
This is ostensibly a lullaby from the singer to his sleepy lover, although the music is fairly upbeat with more than a faint air of Percy Faith's "Theme From a Summer Place" (which would be recorded two years later, but the coincidental similarities are there). Dramatizations of the eternal love between couples apparently made for great sleep aids in Europe in the late 50's. Stylistically, I found this inconsistent -- is it a gentle lullaby or a vehicle for the chanson singer's voice? -- but by the end, you've got to fairly hard hearted to say that Claveau can't stick the landing. 6/10.
1959. Teddy Scholten, "'n Bettje" (Netherlands)
The cheeky sense of humour that characterizes this song works immeasurably better than it did on Corry Brokken's "Net als toen". First, it's a playful, upbeat song that doesn't take itself too seriously. More importantly, Scholten gives a memorable performance by clearly having fun with the song, telling the story through her eyes even more so than with her voice, and utilizing a wide variety of coquettish facial expressions to completely immerse herself in the character. As a song, it's fairly basic, but make no mistake, this was a champions' performance by Scholten, the first truly great performance by a Eurovision winner. 7/10.
This is ostensibly a lullaby from the singer to his sleepy lover, although the music is fairly upbeat with more than a faint air of Percy Faith's "Theme From a Summer Place" (which would be recorded two years later, but the coincidental similarities are there). Dramatizations of the eternal love between couples apparently made for great sleep aids in Europe in the late 50's. Stylistically, I found this inconsistent -- is it a gentle lullaby or a vehicle for the chanson singer's voice? -- but by the end, you've got to fairly hard hearted to say that Claveau can't stick the landing. 6/10.
1959. Teddy Scholten, "'n Bettje" (Netherlands)
The cheeky sense of humour that characterizes this song works immeasurably better than it did on Corry Brokken's "Net als toen". First, it's a playful, upbeat song that doesn't take itself too seriously. More importantly, Scholten gives a memorable performance by clearly having fun with the song, telling the story through her eyes even more so than with her voice, and utilizing a wide variety of coquettish facial expressions to completely immerse herself in the character. As a song, it's fairly basic, but make no mistake, this was a champions' performance by Scholten, the first truly great performance by a Eurovision winner. 7/10.
Monday, March 04, 2019
Reviewing every Eurovision Song Contest winner
Eurovision is coming to Tel Aviv, and I'm starting to get swept up in the excitement. As a prelude to the competition, I've decided to review and grade every past Eurovision Song Contest winner.
I'm approaching this as an unbiased outsider who hasn't heard most of these songs and is unfamiliar with many of the artists. I'll make the effort whenever possible to understand the context behind the choices each year, e.g. who was favoured going in and why, how musical or political trends may have affected the voting, etc. But mainly I'm looking for a gut, first impressions kind of reaction. A song doesn't necessarily have to stand the test of time, because after all, many of them were written with the express purpose of winning a competition and were looking to capture the moods and tastes of the moment. Crafting a creative tour de force wasn't intended, or expected a lot of the time. But good songs are good songs, period. That said, I'll have to figure out some kind of sliding scale for grading the parade of shlocky power ballads, especially in the non English-language early years.
1956. Lys Assia, "Refrain" (Switzerland)
On first listen, I thought this was a fairly standard mid-tempo ballad. Then I delved into the lyrics (French being a language I can partly comprehend) and the heartstrings were dutifully pulled. Upon further listens, it grew on me even more. For some reason I was reminded of Bobby Vee's "Take Good Care of My Baby" (which was released years later -- this is purely a mental connection in the present day). The longing for loves of yesterday, dreaming about getting a second chance, it's a brilliant mixture of hopelessness with that small flash of hopefulness. So much for the sliding scale. 8/10.
1957. Corry Brokken, "Net als toen" (Netherlands)
Technically speaking, "Refrain" wasn't about teenage love -- there's a lyric referring to those (long ago?) loves of her 20's. But remove that line and it's a song that could have been sung by an idealist in their early 20's who frequently fell in love, and far too easily. On the other hand, "Net als toen" is from the perspective of an older couple. Lines such as (in translation), "you're getting fat and your hair is turning grey/but you can still flirt, believe me" are likely meant to be in good humour, but they leave behind the most unflattering imagery imaginable for a supposed love song. Is she playfully making fun of her husband, speaking about their younger days like 80's sitcom parents used to? Or is she spurned and insulted by his lack of affection for her? Perhaps I'm not picking up on the composer's sense of humour. Perhaps there's something there musically that wasn't recycled from the 1930's. But I won't be returning to this song any time soon. 3/10.
1956. Lys Assia, "Refrain" (Switzerland)
On first listen, I thought this was a fairly standard mid-tempo ballad. Then I delved into the lyrics (French being a language I can partly comprehend) and the heartstrings were dutifully pulled. Upon further listens, it grew on me even more. For some reason I was reminded of Bobby Vee's "Take Good Care of My Baby" (which was released years later -- this is purely a mental connection in the present day). The longing for loves of yesterday, dreaming about getting a second chance, it's a brilliant mixture of hopelessness with that small flash of hopefulness. So much for the sliding scale. 8/10.
1957. Corry Brokken, "Net als toen" (Netherlands)
Technically speaking, "Refrain" wasn't about teenage love -- there's a lyric referring to those (long ago?) loves of her 20's. But remove that line and it's a song that could have been sung by an idealist in their early 20's who frequently fell in love, and far too easily. On the other hand, "Net als toen" is from the perspective of an older couple. Lines such as (in translation), "you're getting fat and your hair is turning grey/but you can still flirt, believe me" are likely meant to be in good humour, but they leave behind the most unflattering imagery imaginable for a supposed love song. Is she playfully making fun of her husband, speaking about their younger days like 80's sitcom parents used to? Or is she spurned and insulted by his lack of affection for her? Perhaps I'm not picking up on the composer's sense of humour. Perhaps there's something there musically that wasn't recycled from the 1930's. But I won't be returning to this song any time soon. 3/10.
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