Thursday, November 28, 2024

New Order, Live at Reading Festival 29/08/1993

I'm still hyped up on New Order since finishing both seasons of the Transmissions podcast, so let's drag out this historic live recording from their headlining set at Reading 1993, the 10th in a series of albums that I haven't heard in well over twenty years, since I started this blog.  I started this series in early 2020 as a 20th anniversary feature and absolutely intend to finish with it before the blog's 30th anniversary.  You can easily find recordings of this show online, here is one of many links.   

When New Order released "Republic" in 1993, Factory had collapsed, the Hacienda was soon to follow, and it was an open secret that the four of them couldn't stand working together anymore.  Yet somehow, "Regret" was one of their best ever singles (on many days, I would argue it's their very best), their videos were all over MTV and MuchMusic, they filmed the priceless "Top of the Pops" segment live from the set of "Baywatch", appeared at the Montreux Jazz festival, and released the excellent "Neworderstory" documentary (ignore all complaints about the shoddy voiceover commentary, those opinions are wrong).  Free of the flaming dumpster fire of financial ruin called Factory Records, and finally making decent coin on a properly run major label (London Records), in many ways it was a triumphant comeback for New Order.  

And yet, they quietly only played fourteen shows in support of "Republic".  This was the early 90's, when a band could pump out singles from a well-regarded album for well over a year, make good money from CD album sales (the single was mostly dead), have their videos in daily rotation and thus appear to be everywhere even though they were sitting at home or doing the occasional press tour.  Hitting the road for long tours was not a necessity once you reached a certain level, and New Order had reached it.  Despite their year-long success, heading into their set at Reading it was widely assumed that the band had reached the end of their rope and even could be breaking up.  This time, the rumours were true.  Following this show, the band fractured and essentially didn't see or speak to each other for years.  

I saw the Toronto show earlier in the year -- the first and still the only time I have seen New Order live -- and it was a wonderful experience even if the show wasn't anything special.  I bought a bootleg cassette of that show and enjoyed reliving the memories, as I tended to do with any recording from a show I had been to.  Later in the year, I bought a cassette recording of the Reading show.  The set list was identical, but the Reading gig was unquestionably different.  

New Order were a famously ramshackle band in the 80's.  They'd show up on stage trashed and write out the set list fifteen minutes before they went out.  They dragged computers, sequencers, synths, and guitars on stage years before anyone knew how to make that setup work reliably day in and day out.  Their concerts tended to be octane-filled dance rock parties or mistake-laden drunken embarrassments, there was mostly no inbetween.  The Toronto show was actually fine, but a bit rote.  By 1993, their concerts were slickly programmed and tough to mess up.  Gone were the days of scribbling down the set list based on their mood in the dressing room.  They were a professional band on a corporate-run label now.  They were real celebrities.  The Toronto show was held in a concert theatre in an amusement park.  They brought the roller coasters to a standstill that day -- the park staff brought them in to skip the lines and have private rides (not a joke, this is true).   They spent the day drinking and touring the park and the gig was fine, even though they didn't seem very invested in it.  

Reading was more energetic, more mechanical (in the best sense -- no blips, losses of concentrations, or obvious mistakes) and more magical.  One can sense that they knew it was their final gig as New Order and that they were determined to make it one of their best ever.  Mostly though, you can sense the lack of tension.  They'd been on the road playing the new songs and had worked out the kinks.  They knew the setlist -- it was the same every night.  They were relieved that the journey was finally over.  Listening to this back in 1993, when I heard the pitch perfect harmonies in "World" I knew that I was hearing something special.  Finally New Order had gotten their shit together, just in time for the end.

Well, not exactly.  Rob Gretton coaxed them back together to play live again in 1998.  The results were better than anyone could have expected.  They still sounded relevant, necessary, and wholly unique.  They started playing Joy Division songs every night, finally embracing that part of their history after publicly distancing themselves from it for the better part of two decades.  Other than a few years of uncertainty following Peter Hook's messy departure in 2006, they've been a functioning band ever since.  The post-1998 reunion period now spans a longer period than their "imperial" phase.  And I don't think it's controversial to say that the post-1998 model, in all its iterations, is a much better live band than any version that came before it.  They have a more maximalist, energetic presence now, the re-worked renditions of "Temptation" and "Bizarre Love Triangle" completely slay, post-reunion material like "Crystal" and "When The Sirens Call" come across like peak New Order, "Age Of Consent" and "Regret" are as vital as ever.  

"Republic" was an uneven album with a number of down moments, and the live versions were identical to the recorded ones.  It was the comedown record after the acid house-infused high of "Technique", it was not an album designed to electrify the world over a six month tour.  But for what it is, this set at Reading was the absolute best they could have done it.   It's still a fine recording, but it comes across as a bit lumpy and sterile due to the overly familiar programming and arranging that robs the music of any surprise or spontaneity.  

Tuesday, November 26, 2024

"Transmissions" Podcast

Having read more than my share of JD/NO books/articles/interviews over the years, including all three of Peter Hook's very candid autobiographies, I was skeptical about this being the "definitive" account that it claims to be.  I can't say it isn't fun to hear these interviews and stories in an easily digestible audio format, but for hardcore fans there weren't many surprises in Season 1, which covers the JD story and the NO story up to and including "Blue Monday".  The lack of new bombshell revelations isn't a negative -- of course most listeners will be casual or lapsed fans who will find plenty to digest, and even longtime devotees of the bands seem to enjoy it based on the responses I've seen.  It features interviews with nearly all the principals plus a healthy number of celeb cameos and commentaries, the episodes are short (30-40 minutes each) and incredibly well paced, and the story arc is wholly unique.  What's not to like?  

Things pick up in Season 2.  The JD story has been told in a myriad of ways and frankly there's not that much to tell, considering how short their career was.  Getting to the bottom of the NO story has always been a more elusive endeavour, considering their aversion to liaising with the press (interviews, photo sessions, videos) throughout most of the 80's.  Hook's biography is still the gold standard, but it's only one side of the story.  "Transmissions" features many other key figures who have never, to the best of my knowledge, talked this openly about the band before.  Chief among them is Tom Attencio, the Qwest label exec who served as their US manager, and Peter Saville, who designed just about everything of note for Factory.  Now that the lawsuits have been definitively settled, with both the Hook-led side and Bernard Sumner-led side enjoying healthy careers, everyone seems to have mellowed out.  Even the tense, bitter moments in New Order's career are recalled with considerable detachment, as if everyone involved has since seen the error of their ways.  Mostly, they are all keen to focus on the good times and the process behind crafting such groundbreaking music.     

Sunday, November 17, 2024

Music in "House, M.D."

After about six months (with kids it's difficult to binge watch) I have finally finished watching all eight seasons of "House, M.D." from beginning to end.  For a few years during it's broadcast run, it was my favourite show on television and I wasn't alone -- it was the most watched TV show in the world for a period thanks to international broadcast rights.  At the time, I started watching during Season 2, watched religiously during Seasons 3, 4, and 5, but my interest started waning during Season 6 (spurred by a specific "jump the shark" episode, but we'll get to it).  Frustrated by a frankly ludicrous ending to Season 6, I gave up on the show and never watched any of Seasons 7 and 8 (outside of clips of the finale).  

The show debuted twenty years ago this week, so there have been a number of articles about it on entertainment sites recently.  All of them focus on the influence "House" had on a number of "edgy" shows with flawed, but brilliant anti-hero main characters.  Virtually none of them talk about the music in the show.  And since this is a music blog, I figured I'd pay tribute to my half-year label of love and talk about "House"'s use of music.  This is not a discussion of the soundtrack album released in 2007 as a cash cow tie-in, or an attempt to provide a definitive, comprehensive list of the top ten or twenty musical moments in the show's history.  It's an excuse to write some words about "House" by framing it through a sampling of songs (out of the seven hundred that featured over its eight seasons) that stuck with me for various reasons.


Massive Attack, "Teardrop".   The theme song (but not in most international markets), backed by an intro video with computer generated anatomical diagrams of spidery blood vessels, dissected brains, and x-rayed rib cages all floating through the screen in suspended animation.  The intro is a perfect match for the music and the combination is much beloved by pretty much everyone, but oddly enough it does nothing to prepare you for the style and pacing of the show or the sharp, acerbic personalities of many of the characters.  

Gorillaz, "Feel Good, Inc.", S3E1 ("Meaning").  Season 2 ended on a cliffhanger, with House getting shot and subsequently rushed into the OR for life-saving surgery.  Season 3 begins with a complete turnaround, skipping forward to a few months later with House transformed into a hardcore fitness freak, jogging through parks and up flights of stairs, his life completely rejuvenated by a risky ketamine treatment as a side benefit to his surgery.  

Mazzy Star, "Into Dust", S3E3 ("Informed Consent").   This plaintive, blissful track plays for a full three minutes at the end of the episode, soundtracking the devastating reveal of a fatal diagnosis, a likely euthanasia, and the most genuine and affecting House-Cameron moment of the series.  It's an exquisite pairing of music, scenery and dialogue, seemingly stretching these agonizing few minutes into what feels like an hour.  

"Georgia on My Mind" (Hugh Laurie on Piano), S5E22 ("Saviors").  Anything with Hugh Laurie on piano (or guitar) was gold.  The last minutes of the episode are a montage of different characters finding joy and happiness, which cuts to House at the piano in his apartment, jamming alone in his without a care in the world, celebrating his apparent emancipation from drug-induced psychosis.  But the mood turns on a dime with a slow exhale into a harmonica and a surprise hallucinations.  Jubilant, and then chilling, all within a few seconds.

Norman Greenbaum, "Spirit In the Sky", S4E9 ("Games").  This song bubbles up after House's new team members are revealed.  "House" featured a lot of classic rock, but was always framed as a "let the good times roll" moment or used for comic effect.  This is a rare poignant moment set to fuzzy guitar.  There's little doubt that whoever chose the song went for the full ironic effect due to its equally famous 80's cover by Dr. and the Medics (get it ...)

Bon Iver, "Stacks", S416 ("Wilson's Heart").  The song works as the farewell to Amber, and especially at the very end when Wilson returns home to read her heartbreaking note.  This really makes the list because the "House's Head"/"Wilson's Heart" finale were likely the two best episodes of the entire series, and this was the song that capped it.  

Hugh Laurie, "Cuddy's Serenade", S5E15 ("Unfaithful").  Composed and played by Laurie during the final minutes of the episode, this touching little piece was the peak of the Cuddy/House storyline, in which House deals with his inability to reveal his feelings to Cuddy by retreating to the safety of his home and expressing his emotions at the piano.  

Rolling Stones, "As Tears Go By", S5E24 ("Both Sides Now").  "You Can't Always Get What You Want" appeared in about three episodes, but "House"'s best use of a Rolling Stones song was in the Season 5 finale.  The elation of Chase and Cameron's wedding is blended with the devastating uncertainty of House's trip to a psychiatric unit, having pushed his drug addictions over the edge into full blown psychosis.  This was the logical end point of House's addiction, which had been tolerated and enabled for years by his colleagues and even turned into something of a running joke.  There was no way to get more extreme than this, and as a result House's behaviour was far more subdued in the next season.  But the showrunners tried to top it at the end of Season 7, trying for shock and awe to recover the show's edge (I guess), and failing.    

Radiohead, "No Surprises", S6E1 ("Broken").   The only episode that didn't use "Teardrop" as a theme song (outside of a handful that featured a cold open without any music), this coupled House's brutal detox from vicodin addiction with Radiohead's claustrophobic masterpiece.  Arguably the best minute of television the series ever produced.  

Prince, "God", S6E4 ("The Tyrant").   I would never have guessed that this snippet of stirring, neo-classical ambience was a "Purple Rain"-era b-side.  Taken at face value (Foreman burns the log with proof of Chase's guilt), the music works.  The episode is the jump the shark moment of the show that irrevocably destroyed my devoted fandom at the time.  As I watched the entire series, compressed into a shorter time span, it became clear that this was easily the worst episode of "House" to that point, and likely the worst of the series.  A fiercely apolitical show suddenly developed a moral conscience with each character inexplicably virtue signaling, and breaking with their established character arcs.  In the narrative presented on the show, this should have touched off a major international incident.  Instead it led to weeks of crybaby Chase, the laughably dumb break-up of his marriage to Cameron, and then the whole thing was mostly forgotten about.  As an eerie coincidence, James Earl Jones (who played the dictator) died in real life the day after I watched this episode.  I don't have the space or the gumption to provide a detailed overview of the preposterous premise behind this whole storyline, it was an experiment in political posturing that never should have been attempted.   

Funkadelic, "Maggot Brain", S6E11 ("The Down Low").  There is hardly a context in life or in art that isn't suited to hearing "Maggot Brain".  Here, an undercover cop dies in horrifying agony in the hospital while the criminals he spent months pursuing meet their own ignominious ends at the hands of law enforcement.   

LCD Soundsystem, "No Love Lost", S7E10 ("Carrot or Stick").  This serves as the motivational music during a boot camp scene.  But it really makes the list because I had no idea this Joy Division cover existed, and was startled to hear it pop up during a random Season 7 opening scene.

House and Cuddy sing "Get Happy", S7E15 ("Bombshells").  Now here's an experiment that passed with flying colours.  I never wanted to see House and Cuddy get together and there were many, many cringe-worthy moments in Season 7 as I watched them try to conduct a semblance of a serious relationship.  You know what "Huddy" needed more of?  More FUN, more outlandishness, more camp!  This "Material Girl" meets "Rocky Horror" take on a Judy Garland number was a home run, a dream sequence to remember in an episode based upon increasingly bizarre dream sequences.  

Warren Zevon, "Keep Me In Your Heart", S8E22 ("Everybody Dies").  Chosen by Hugh Laurie himself as the penultimate song of the series, providing a glimpse into all the principal characters' lives post-House.  I'm not a Zevon fan, but the music fits and the final scenes of the series are nothing if not memorable.  

Sunday, November 03, 2024

The Cure, "Songs of a Lost World"

This will be my first review of a new album release in about four years ... although one could say that it was sixteen years in the making.

The anticipation surrounding this album has drawn in many casual and lapsed fans.  Even without any new music, their profile has arguably never been higher thanks to regular touring, high profile festival appearances, the RnR Hall of Fame induction, and the overall appreciation of a still-functioning band whose enormous influence is still being felt.  For much of the 2010's, I had the sense that The Cure didn't need to record anything else, that they could continue indefinitely as a legacy act.  I'm thinking of the likes of Billy Joel, who hasn't released an album of new music in thirty years (and has no plans to do so) but sold out MSG monthly for years and received the most glowing reviews of his entire career. 

The new album is out and two more are reportedly on the way, so the Cure are very much a fully active band again.  The early reviews for "Songs of a Lost World" have been outstanding.  The new songs were centrepieces of their last world tour, and the lyrics are sobering takes on the incessant reality of death and aging in a broken, uncertain world.  The Cure are back to help us make sense of it all, people are ready and waiting for this album, and hoping for it to be a masterpiece.  

There has been a lot of criticism about the mixing of the album, and on my initial listen I agree with most of it.  It sounds squashed and overly compressed, the drumming is muffled and lacks punch, the synths are too upfront in the mix and have a confusingly preset quality to them, there is little of the high reverb ambience that I want from such an overwhelmingly sobering album.  

Despite those sonic issues, many truly great songs shine through.  Sometimes they imitate the funereal, dirge-like qualities of Joy Division's "Decades" (e.g. "Alone") and sometimes they beef up the doom-laden inevitability not unlike New Order's "In a Lonely Place" (e.g. "Endsong").  The mountains of synths covering "And Nothing Is Forever" produce one of the most lush and purely gorgeous backing tracks in the Cure's 40+ year recorded history. "Drone:Nodrone" distinguishes itself from the somber majority of the album by featuring a more muscular, funk metal sound.  Throughout the album, Robert Smith's voice is in pristine form.  Perhaps nothing is forever, as the album keeps telling us, but his unvarying voice is miraculously the one constant in an ever-evolving band.

Putting aside the production issues for the moment, this is a very good album, although not the classic I was expecting based on the tour recordings and the the pre-release hype.  When the Rolling Stones reformed for "Steel Wheels" and launched a record-breaking tour, everyone remembered that they were a singular band after they had lost their sense of purpose for much of the 1980's.  Starting with that album, and for much of the next fifteen years, critics and fans were on the lookout for the next classic Stones album, the one that would complete their journey from yesterday's legends to contemporary studio giants, irrespective of their remarkable concert tour successes .  Each album was hailed as the best since "Some Girls", or "finally, a Stones album that you don't need to make excuses for".  I think the Cure are firmly entrenched in that phase of their career.  Remarkably, the Stones in the 90's were a much younger band than the Cure is now.  That entire studio run of the Stones didn't add anything to their overall legacy, that vindicating return to form never happened.  Mick et al laughed all the way to the bank (and still are!).  But there was an outsized emphasis relevance through new studio material, and the Stones were judged accordingly.  If that was happening today, with the album in rapid decline as the definitive musical artifact, I think they'd be judged very differently.  

The Cure are one of those few remaining legacy bands who continue to be judged according to the old standards.  I think we've been here before.  "Bloodflowers" was expected to be a classic following the underwhelming "Wild Mood Swings".  It had the hyped up pedigree as the final album in the trilogy that began with "Pornography" and "Disintegration".  It's a good album and the Trilogy DVD is still one of the best projects they ever did, but who reps for "Bloodflowers" these days?  The self-titled album in 2004 was also praised by fans and earned respectable reviews.  It had Ross Robinson producing, adding a nu-metal sheen to the band's sound that at the very least made for an interesting pairing.  They headlined the Curiosa festival with a cadre of bands that owed them a debt creatively, and it all made perfect sense.  Old meets new, the Cure properly launch themselves into a 21st century context!  At the time I listened to the album a lot, but who listens to it today?   During the "Songs of a Lost World" tour, they played 60 different songs across 89 shows, but not a single one of them from "The Cure" (according to setlist.fm).  

"Songs of a Lost World" feels like a big deal now, not least because it's been such a long wait.   But who will be listening to it in ten or twenty years?   As much as there is to like about this album, I can't say that I hear anything "permanent" about it.  That said, much like the Stones beginning with "Steel Wheels", does that even matter?  Focusing too much on the quality of a new Cure album, and evaluating their worth based on that, might mean that we were asking the wrong questions all along.