Finally getting back to this project and jumping straight into the chaos of 1969!
Salome, "Vivo cantando" (Spain).
There are several notable things about this performance, starting with Salome's mile high beehive hairdo and pale blue dress that looks like a cross between scraggly animal fur and exotic beads. There's the tuxedo-clad barber shop trio that were beamed in from a completely different, much sleepier song. There's the way she loses herself in the song and resorts to dancing (against Eurovision rules at the time!), distracting herself from the singing she's supposed to be doing but upping the excitement factor of the song times ten. All these performance aspects add up to more than the sum of their parts -- this is arguably the first all sizzle, no (or very little) steak performance in Eurovision. The song doesn't amount to much, jumping between Broadway glitz, flamenco rave-up, and touching ballad, trying to cover all bases at once but never establishing an identity. Nevertheless, "Vivo cantando" helps establish the Eurovision tradition of putting on a wild performance with flashy costumes, dancing, and other bizarre gaga and hoping people won't notice the deficiencies of the song overlaying it. 6/10.
Lulu, "Boom Bang-a-Bang" (United Kingdom)
Lulu was a fairly big star when she represented the UK and her team clearly expected that to win the day for them in the contest. And hey, it worked. Lulu looked like the cuddly pink precursor to Meghan Trainor in the "All About That Bass" video, she won Eurovision, and "Boom Bang-a-Bang" was a massive hit in the UK and all over Europe. The song, however, is treacly nonsense that I never want to hear again. 3/10.
Lenny Kour, "De troubadour" (Netherlands)
I wouldn't have guessed that a straight up folk song with a strong protest/political bent actually won Eurovision exactly fifty years ago. Political songs are, and I assume were against the Eurovision rules except when the rules are arbitrarily ignored (e.g. when a dictator is rumoured to have fixed the contest to show off to the world). Certainly no other song in Eurovision channeled the spirit of Woodstock '69 more than this one. The mostly orchestra-free first minute is a welcome break from the usual bombast of the orchestra, and although the song builds to a rousing climax, I can't help but think it would have been stronger with just the two guitars all the way through. 8/10.
Frida Boccara, "Un jour, un enfant" (France)
After hearing this tremendous, almost apocalyptic ballad about an innocent child re-imagining the world, I'm beginning to make sense of this unusual four way tie. Each song is completely different from the others and would appeal to different voting demographics. Presumably, the older, golden age of classic songwriting fans would have voted for Frida Boccara and Salome, whereas the younger generation would have been drawn to the reactionary street cred of Lenny Kour and the bubblegum pop of Lulu. There is no right answer, although I would choose "De troubadour" by a hair over Un jour, en enfant". Boccara's performance is one to remember for sure, boasting the purest, strongest vocal delivery of any Eurovision winner thus far. And for trivia buffs, I believe that Frida Boccara was the first Jewish winner (performer, not songwriter) of Eurovision. 8/10.
Wednesday, July 17, 2019
Thursday, July 04, 2019
Glastonbury 2019
I have been watching clips from the festival all week and what is there to say? There are dozens of huge festivals all over the world each year, but playing at Glastonbury carries a certain gravitas and historical importance that other festivals can't match. I think the artists have bought into this too.
A lot has changed over the years. Miley Cyrus got into the Glastonbury spirit with a kitchen sink set of her songs, covers, and guest appearances. Can you imagine Mariah Carey or any of her contemporary female solo stars playing Glastonbury in the 90's? Or even Alanis Morrissette, to name a 90's artist more similar to Miley? It was unthinkable. When it came to festivals, Americans only knew Woodstock, which was a one off. In the post Woodstock era, festivals were the domain of hippies who liked folksy, countercultural bands that flew under the radar and were never heard on the radio. Festivals weren't the place for real stars. Today, Glastonbury is truly a global festival, on everyone's radar.
Glastonbury used to be a platform for underappreciated artists. Those 90's lineups are littered with bands who were ascending and "deserved" their chance to break through by headlining somewhere. Pulp's headlining set in 1995 (replacing the Stone Roses who cancelled after guitarist John Squire broke his arm mountain biking) is legendary. Radiohead's headlining set in 1997 is legendary for different reasons -- they held a huge crowd in a rapture, and made them forget their weekend of misery in horrendously muddy conditions -- and cemented the status they enjoy today. Skunk Anansie, Ash, and Carter USM all headlined (all three had huge hit albums in the UK but were never quite mainstream).
This year, that artist in that position was Stormzy. The Killers were arguably in that position when they headlined ... in 2007. What changes over twelve years these days? Didn't that used to be an eternity? The basis of The Killers' set list hasn't changed a whole lot since 2007, they still sculpt their gigs biggest moments around the hits from their first two albums. The Killers were classic rock almost upon arrival. Kylie had to pull out of her headlining spot in 2005 and here she was in 2019, still a legend, and attracting the biggest crowd of the festival and on TV. When the Stone Roses cancelled in 1995 they lost their chance to regain their spot at the peak of British rock. That chance was gone forever, the industry changed too quickly in those days, and they were broken up less than two years later.
Speaking of never changing, take The Cure. This year, everyone was in reverence over how brilliant they still sound after all these years. NME readers voted them the best headlining set of the weekend. The last time, they headlined, in 1995, nobody was talking about The Cure, least of all NME readers. I know because I read the NME nearly weekly in those days and The Cure's headlining set drew about two lines of coverage. People were giddy about Pulp stealing the festival, and whether Oasis were cracking under the pressure of the spotlight. The Cure had been inactive for about two years and already felt like antiques from a different era. They were giants who you had to respect in their spot, but they could no longer define the narrative.
This year, The Cure are still antiques from a different era, but it scarcely matters. They can play headlining sets at whatever festivals they want under the earth falls into the sun. Each time they blow away a festival crowd feels like the first time. They're as legendary as the Stones, but with a key difference. "Disintegration" could be released tomorrow, as is, and would still be a huge phenomenon. The lyrics, music, and production have all stayed current. Think about that, "Disintegration" is thirty years old (!!). When it was released in 1989, which 1959 rock god could have had a hit single or album in the then contemporary climate? Can you even imagine it?
A lot has changed over the years. Miley Cyrus got into the Glastonbury spirit with a kitchen sink set of her songs, covers, and guest appearances. Can you imagine Mariah Carey or any of her contemporary female solo stars playing Glastonbury in the 90's? Or even Alanis Morrissette, to name a 90's artist more similar to Miley? It was unthinkable. When it came to festivals, Americans only knew Woodstock, which was a one off. In the post Woodstock era, festivals were the domain of hippies who liked folksy, countercultural bands that flew under the radar and were never heard on the radio. Festivals weren't the place for real stars. Today, Glastonbury is truly a global festival, on everyone's radar.
Glastonbury used to be a platform for underappreciated artists. Those 90's lineups are littered with bands who were ascending and "deserved" their chance to break through by headlining somewhere. Pulp's headlining set in 1995 (replacing the Stone Roses who cancelled after guitarist John Squire broke his arm mountain biking) is legendary. Radiohead's headlining set in 1997 is legendary for different reasons -- they held a huge crowd in a rapture, and made them forget their weekend of misery in horrendously muddy conditions -- and cemented the status they enjoy today. Skunk Anansie, Ash, and Carter USM all headlined (all three had huge hit albums in the UK but were never quite mainstream).
This year, that artist in that position was Stormzy. The Killers were arguably in that position when they headlined ... in 2007. What changes over twelve years these days? Didn't that used to be an eternity? The basis of The Killers' set list hasn't changed a whole lot since 2007, they still sculpt their gigs biggest moments around the hits from their first two albums. The Killers were classic rock almost upon arrival. Kylie had to pull out of her headlining spot in 2005 and here she was in 2019, still a legend, and attracting the biggest crowd of the festival and on TV. When the Stone Roses cancelled in 1995 they lost their chance to regain their spot at the peak of British rock. That chance was gone forever, the industry changed too quickly in those days, and they were broken up less than two years later.
Speaking of never changing, take The Cure. This year, everyone was in reverence over how brilliant they still sound after all these years. NME readers voted them the best headlining set of the weekend. The last time, they headlined, in 1995, nobody was talking about The Cure, least of all NME readers. I know because I read the NME nearly weekly in those days and The Cure's headlining set drew about two lines of coverage. People were giddy about Pulp stealing the festival, and whether Oasis were cracking under the pressure of the spotlight. The Cure had been inactive for about two years and already felt like antiques from a different era. They were giants who you had to respect in their spot, but they could no longer define the narrative.
This year, The Cure are still antiques from a different era, but it scarcely matters. They can play headlining sets at whatever festivals they want under the earth falls into the sun. Each time they blow away a festival crowd feels like the first time. They're as legendary as the Stones, but with a key difference. "Disintegration" could be released tomorrow, as is, and would still be a huge phenomenon. The lyrics, music, and production have all stayed current. Think about that, "Disintegration" is thirty years old (!!). When it was released in 1989, which 1959 rock god could have had a hit single or album in the then contemporary climate? Can you even imagine it?