Reviewing every Eurovision Song Contest Winner (1965, 1966)

1965.  France Gall, "Poupée de cire, poupée de son" (Luxembourg).

In which Serge Gainsbourg fulfilled one of his career goals by bringing his music to the masses, winning Eurovision, and giving the contest the kick in the teeth it sorely needed.  "Poupée de cire, poupée de son" can be credited as the first non-ballad to win Eurovision, but as we've seen, some uptempo, pop-lite songs had won in previous years, so that designation depends on your exact definition of ballad. More importantly, it was the first truly contemporary winner, the moment where the modern pop charts crash landed centre stage in Eurovision, the first song that exuded effortless cool and street cred.  The moment when the drums kick in is like a bolt of lightning that shocks the system after years of sleepy ballads.  The overall arrangement is so breathtaking that you can easily forgive France Gall's somewhat nondescript delivery, she's almost a sideshow within her own performance.  But Gainsbourg would make a career out of being the real star behind the scenes while interchanging his singing dolls as he wished.  One could go on for days about how he schooled all the winning composers from previous years and their "I'm too young to be in love" numbers with his continuous roll of puns, innuendos, and double entendres.  10/10.   

1966.  Udo Jürgens, "Merci, Chérie" (Austria).

And now it's a trip back to the dark ages of sentimental ballads about leaving one's lover, thanks for the memories, bittersweet love oh how it stings, and so on.  This song suffers a lot when you have to listen to it immediately following "Poupée de cire, poupée de son".  It's a safe entry, but it's immediate and relatable, something that could be counted on to score votes in the then contemporary climate.  6/10.  

Weezer (the Teal Album)

It's hard to justify a covers album most of the time. The source material is probably going to be good, so the album won't be bad per se. The collective "why??" is the most common reaction -- any good song played competently won't be worth a bad review, but at the same time there's no reason to care about this new(er)(est) interpretation.

No album in recent memory embodies this reaction more than the latest from Weezer. It's simultaneously of our time and hopelessly dated in and of our time. Artistically, there is absolutely nothing of substance here. There are no hidden gems, no creative reworkings, nothing recast in a contemporary light. The clear intention was to do the exact opposite -- to play some of the most iconic hits note for note, with nearly the same instrumentation in the most straightforward pub rock style. Until very recently (insert year of choice here) nobody would have taken this seriously as a "real" album, it would have been a fan club only release or something exclusively sold on tour. Maybe it would be even be given away as a bonus CD with a proper album or DVD.  There would most certainly be no money in a covers album so clearly half assed, so it would be marketed as a cheeky bit of fun for hardcore fans. 

These days, there's no money to be made in recorded music anyway, albums are more of a touring loss leader than ever before. Still, I expect albums to exist for better reasons than "made on a Twitter dare". 

The art of DJing: Jeff Mills

Courtesy of Resident Advisor, this feature is possibly the equivalent of a mid-90's interview with Eric Clapton about the proper use of guitars in rock.  Lamentations about the sorry state of affairs these days?  Check.  Schooling the young whippersnappers about how things are supposed to be done?  Yes to that too.  It's a sobering thought to consider that techno has been around long enough to produce its share of surly older statesmen just like rock and roll did. 

Nevertheless, Mills is essentially a god and reading this interview firmly established (as if there was really any doubt) that he is on another level completely.  He can detect details in music that would go unnoticed by any ordinary person, and can react and process these details in real time, while DJing.  Two or three minutes to make the subtraction, i.e. to remove a track from the mix completely?  I know the concept and I strive to do the same with some of my mixes.  But cueing three tracks simultaneously, intentionally lagging the beats, and rephasing them in just the right way to build the excitement for the listener?  How do you do that without having it all devolve into, to cop a phrase Mills uses, "a herd of horses"?  Mills can hear differences in calibration between three identical CDJ's, including the effect of room temperature and humidity.  The man simply understands his craft better than most of us will ever understand anything in our lives.  Learning to DJ in Detroit must have been like boot camp, where only the strongest and most talented could survive, and anyone who did was more disciplined than the best DJs from virtually any other place (he talks a bit about this too).  I can't do the interview justice, and literally the entire thing is quotable, you just have to read it. 

My favourite bit actually might have been the part where Mills used to leave records in his crate that he had no intention of playing.  He'd leave a James Brown record in there not to play it, but as a reminder to keep his set funky.  Brilliant.  Or maybe the part about focusing on the last quarter of the track in his mixes, because that's where the track best comes together, where the real groove can be found.  I really must try my hand at that in a future mix.