Supernova Music Festival 2023

The dance music community has always been the underdog, and with the exception of a couple of years in the late 90's and the recent trend of Las Vegas approved EDM events, this music has never been part of the mainstream.  There are many reasons for this.  Of note, the origin stories of so many subgenres are connected to the LGBTQ scenes or visible minority groups (e.g. Black, Latino), who fought for decades (and still do) for tolerance and understanding from the mainstream music industry.  

Keeping the music alive wasn't always easy.  Party locations and permits were not always easy to come by.  Local authorities worked tirelessly to shut down raves and clubs, citing security and safety concerns.  It was the same story everywhere, in dozens of countries, which helped forge a global unity of purpose that I think was unprecedented in modern music.  This constant struggle against authority, the fight to keep the music going, battling for tolerance and acceptance, it was a beautiful thing that transcended borders and cultures.    

On October 7, Hamas terrorists murdered hundreds of partygoers at a trance music festival in Israel.  The scale of the carnage was several times larger than the largest mass shooting in US history -- the Route 91 Harvest festival in Las Vegas in 2017. It came only a year after the Pulse Nightclub shooting, which targeted the Orlando gay community and sent shockwaves through the dance community that have arguably not subsided to this day.  The nightclub never reopened and a permanent memorial to the victims is currently planned.  The Nova Festival attack, which was also carried out by Islamic extremists, was without exaggeration, the most horrible tragedy in the history of the global electronic music scene.   How did the music press react?    

The UK-based Mixmag wrote a bland, anti-emotional report stripped of any semblance of anger, sadness, or frustration.  It could have appeared on CNN, BBC, or any other MSM site.  They approached with the subject with zero sense of traumatic indignation.  With its stone faced layout of a scant few relevant facts, they might as well have been reporting on traffic or the weather. 

A couple of weeks later, Mixmag reported on an open letter for Palestine, which contained lines such as "queer liberation is inextricable from the ongoing global struggle against imperialism and colonialism".  Well, if you can't count on Hamas to bring queer liberation to the world, then who can you count on?  Remember you can't spell "gay shame" without "Hamas".

The US-based Fader wrote an even more objectionable piece, categorizing the mass slaughter, rape, and incineration of ravers as "part of a large scale offensive" by Hamas.  The death count is simply a number, an exercise in bean counting that represents a few more deaths in an ongoing conflict but nothing to get too worked up about in the grand scheme of things.   

The UK's Resident Advisor went into more detail about the horrors of the massacre itself, but felt the need to include some "context" by outlining the Israeli response.  It seems that mass murder at a music festival wasn't a big enough story on its own.  They couldn't simply report on the story without "all lives matter"ing the killings and inserting their own political biases.   Since that time, they have kept a running list of fundraising efforts for Gaza in the electronic music community.  They offer no money or even encouraging words for anyone in the Israeli scene, or for Israelis directly affected by the massacre.  RA used to be my go-to site for keeping updated with the global scene, but I wasn't too surprised by their takes, because their slow radicalization has been going on for some time.  

I can't say that we're at a turning point, where the global reach and togetherness of the dance music community is exposed as a hypocritical sham, but I did expect better.  Every music scene has its cliques.  Clubs were almost always an island of tolerance -- come as you are, and stay as long as you'd like.  Now, it seems as though you need to be fully committed to the causes du jour in order to have a place at the table.  

Billboard's Best 500 Pop Songs of All Time

I loved this list.  At its essence, this was no less than a concerted effort to assemble an entirely new canon of top songs, moving entirely away from album-oriented song selection and focusing solely on songs that made their impact on the Hot 100.  Years ago, I wrote about the Pitchfork 500 and noted that it was really a best albums list in disguise.  For the most part, they chose a favourite or representative track (or two) from each of their canonically accepted albums.  This problem has plagued far too many "best songs" lists over the past few decades.  They also limited the number of songs by any lead artist to three, ensuring greater variability in their selections and reducing the predictability.  The Beatles appear just once in the Top 100, as does Madonna.  Mariah Carey appears twice, as does Michael Jackson (once as a solo artist, once as part of the Jackson Five).  Those are the acts are 1st, 2nd, 4th, and 6th in all-time #1 hits, with 64 #1's between them.  They get just five spots in the all-time Top 100.  That's some rich variety.  The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin (who were never a singles band), and countless other huge rock acts don't appear in the top 100 at all.  

Unfortunately, they couldn't quite stick the landing.  Crowning Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance With Somebody" as the #1 pop song felt forced, an attempt to rebrand a good song into an all-time great.  The 80's were full of joyous dance pop, and many did it as good or better than Whitney.  "I Will Always Love You" appeared at #60, in its time it was completely inescapable and went on to be her most influential song, inspiring countless aspiring divas and reality show contestants.  Half of the songs in the top 20 would have been better choices for #1.  In my opinion "Dancing Queen", "My Girl", "Be My Baby", "Baby One More Time", "Hey Ya", "Crazy In Love", "Dreams", "Fantasy", "I Want To Hold Your Hand", "Billie Jean" and "Like a Prayer" all could have been justifiable, worthy #1's.  Personally, out of that group, I would have went with "Billie Jean" or "Dancing Queen".  

U2 in the "Sphere", Las Vegas

The advance hype surrounding their 1997 "Popmart" tour promoted it as an audiovisual spectacle that had never before been seen.  It would be bigger and more audacious that their already audaciously big "Zooropa" tour.  The giant, gleaming yellow arch (a half-McDonalds logo that represented a critique of bloated consumerism or a brilliant piece of cross-promotion, or both, who really knows) would be hauled from town to town and had to be seen to be believed.  Oddly enough, this was the only time I ever saw U2 in concert.  These days, even their fans see the tour as classic overreach, a creative speed bump on the way to getting back to basics with "All That You Can't Leave Behind" in 2000, and re-connecting with their fans in a more direct way without the Mephisto-like avatars and technological gadgetry.

The U2 of 2023 probably wishes that the Sphere in Las Vegas had been around in the 90's.  Instead of constructing those gaudy sets, they could have simply projected them onto all-immersive, super-IMAX-like LED board.  Finally, their wildest ambitions can be straightforwardly turned in to (virtual) reality.  The city of Las Vegas is betting a couple of billion dollars that this experience is the future of concert-going.

The video clips look absolutely spectacular.  The problem is that U2 almost feel like an afterthought at their own concert.  People flocked to see Laser Floyd because of the lasers, not because of the Floyd.  The attraction wasn't in seeing a band, it was the bombardment of the senses while the music played in the background.  Does any of that matter to U2?  No doubt they're making enough money to make it well worth their while not to care.   

Prom 62, Aurora Orchestra cond. by Nicolas Collon, "The Rite By Heart"

I have been meaning to write about this performance for a while.  For me, this was the most noteworthy and unique concert at the Proms.   Certainly there is an aspect of gimmickry here.  If the whole drawing card of a concert (classical, pop, or any genre) is to hear the music played live to the highest standards possible, then what's the point of playing by heart?  Is there really an orchestra in the world that could play this music better by heart than they could by looking at the sheet music?  Does playing by heart inevitably downgrade the quality of the music in tangible and wholly avoidable ways?  Yes, concertos are played by soloists by heart, because it makes for a stronger performance -- with nothing to obscure the view of the musician from concertgoers, the soloist can move more freely and project a more emotional connection with the music to the audience.  But the orchestra and conductor's job is to provide the accompaniment.  The soloist sets the tone and the pace, the orchestra follows along and rely on their sheet music and the instructions of the conductor in order to do it.  But in these performances by the Aurora Orchestra, everyone on stage is playing by heart, it's truly a remarkable visual sight.  How was the music?  

The piece starts out punchy and energetic at the start.  There's no question that they are impeccably rehearsed.  The intra-communication necessary to pull this off is "aided" by having smaller forces on stage, I think this task would be nearly impossible with a large orchestra.  I find that the excitement tails off by the end of the work.  As the time signatures get more diabolical toward the finish, every musician must be counting furiously to keep things together, and as a result, their playing gets stiffer and more mechanical.  The magic in the conclusion to Rite of Spring is to construct a furious, swirling, disorienting chaos upon the audience, without the orchestra falling victim to it themselves.  The safe choice is take it slow and risk losing the excitement.  So the Aurora Orchestra doesn't quite get there.  But make no mistake, Prom 62 was a brilliant piece of performance art and an exemplary achievement viewed through that lens.    

Country music dominating the Hot 100

Morgan Wallen setting a record for the most weeks at #1 by a solo artist, in any genre.  Luke Combs hanging in the top five for weeks.  Jason Aldean stirring up a minor firestorm.   Oliver Anthony Music appearing out of nowhere and improbably debuting at #1.  The top three songs in the US are country songs, and it's happened only once before.  The only previous time was one month ago.  I have been struggling to come up for a reason as to why this is happening now.  It makes sense that in times of collective trauma, such as COVID-related forced isolation and mass uncertainty, that people would turn to acoustic, homeland music.  Except that COVID was three years ago, and Taylor Swift already made the mood-defining indie-folk lockdown albums.  So once again, why now?  

I really don't know what's happening, but I am quite sure that any time an artist can upend industry conventions like Oliver Anthony Music has done, then it's a good thing.  A musician who had zero prior chart exposure hit number 1 without any resources at his disposal -- no record labels, A&R people, or corporate sponsors.  Just a guy and his guitar, performing in the woods.  It seems nearly inconceivable, but then again, Justin Bieber was discovered on youtube and "Killing In the Name Of" was the UK Xmas number one a few years back thanks to a viral campaign, so perhaps I should stop being surprised by such unusual occurrences.    

The CD refuses to die

There isn't all that much to this WaPost article other than an offhand reminder to casual music fans that the CD still exists.  It probably won't help CD sales in the slightest.  

I do think that something interesting is happening though, in the same way that 8-tracks and cassettes enjoy a long tail of underground appreciation long after their peaks as a format.  The article covers the basics: 1) the CD is a physical format, and people like to own pretty objects.  2) CD's are inexpensive, and there has never been a better time for cheap finds on this format.  3) CD's are easy to store, and take up little space.  4) for those who want to own their music, rather than be subject to the content whims of streaming services, the CD is tough to beat.  

The fates of vinyl and the CD have virtually flipped since the 90's.  I used to find countless classic albums on vinyl for a dollar and sometimes even for free (yes, some stores simply placed boxes of records out on the curb when they couldn't sell them).  These same albums are now luxury items pressed for Record Store Day specials.  These days, CD's are far too cheap and undervalued considering the music they contain.  

Unlike vinyl, I don't expect a full on CD revival.  The vinyl revival was well deserved and long overdue.  Those of us who still supported vinyl in the mid-90's, when it was considered dead by almost everyone other than DJ's, collectors, and hardcore audiophiles, knew that it was aesthetically and sonically superior to the CD and cassette formats.  Obviously vinyl lost out when it came to convenience.  But it deserved better than the treatment it got, and vinyl's comeback has been richly rewarding.  

One lesson learned from the recent history of vinyl is that there isn't a single, universally great format.  From 1990-2000, the CD was touted as the apex of musical ownership, driving out nearly all the competition.  "Perfect Sound Forever" -- it wasn't true, but plenty of people bought into it. Depending on the mood (morning, night, alone, with friends ...) or setting (at home, at the gym, in the car ...), the ideal format can vary.  Multiple formats should absolutely co-exist in any serious fan's collection.   

Personally, I still love the CD as a convenient format for owning music in large quantities.  Holding a vinyl record is special.  Looking at a great album cover is like admiring great art, it's a nostalgic and even humbling experience.  With few exceptions, I don't get nostalgic about CD covers.  I do love searching for catalog items (particularly electronic and classical music) that are long out of print or difficult to find, especially if I can pay next to nothing for them.  Most of all, I love owning an object, reading the liner notes, and getting information about the people who wrote and recorded the music (which is notoriously absent on virtually all streaming services).

Sinead O'Connor RIP

Sinead once said that ripping up the photo of the pope on SNL didn't destroy her career, it allowed her to recover her career and be the confrontational artist she always had been and always wanted to be.  The SNL appearance destroyed the career of the music execs who were banking on another five million copies sold for her next album. She had a long, successful career and never conformed to popular demand.  Her career trajectory will never be repeated.

I admittedly lost track of her musical output around 1995, her interests and mine were completely divergent in the mid-nineties.  When you'd read something about her it would usually be clickbait-style reporting on her personal hardships.  That's just how it was post-1993, once the money (according to the music establishment) was no longer in selling millions of records, it shifted to incessant negativity and phony narratives, crazy Sinead is opening her mouth and saying controversial things again so let's listen and laugh.  It was sad at the time and it's simply inexcusable now.  She was complex, she was always searching, she stood for something, and if she wasn't always perfectly eloquent about it then what does it matter.   Look at the tributes pouring in from musicians across several decades and wildly distinct genres.  I had forgotten how many guest appearances she did on other people's records and various compilations.  The wide spectrum of people who worked with her knew how special she was.  

I have written about "I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got" before, as time passes I think it become an increasingly indispensable classic.  The politics may have changes but the sentiments haven't.  It's still baffling to recall that millions of people paid money to listen to "Three Babies", "Black Boys on Mopeds", and "The Last Day of Our Acquaintance". 

"Get Back", dir. Peter Jackson (2021)

There is so much to say about this remarkable documentary, and yet what can I possibly say about the Beatles and "Get Back" that hasn't been said in the nearly two years since its release?

There have been a recent spate of biopics with shabby narratives and one-dimensional characters that exist mainly to provide a "fly on the wall" experience for the viewer who often dreamt of "being there" during those magical moments.  Every one of them has been put to shame by "Get Back".  Eight hours of insight into the inner workings of the actual, real life Beatles -- how can you top it?  

For the most part, the Beatles were who we thought they were at the time the documentary was filmed.  Paul was the confident perfectionist, assumed leader of the band, whose visionary ideas influenced the final output more than any other Beatle.  

John was the reluctant Beatle, charming and magnetic, but not entirely reliable and prone to moments of lethargy.  He was at home jamming with the others and goofing off in the studio, but less tolerant of the minutiae of deadlines and day-to-day business of the band.  Yoko accompanied him everywhere, and it's clear that he was mentally checked out of The Beatles.  The seeds are clearly sown for his departure from the band later that year.   

George's heart wasn't entirely in their work either, it's clear he felt underappreciated and restrained by continuing to work in the Beatles.  Some have commented that George comes across as petulant and immature, fighting over creative credit with John and Paul instead of just enjoying his fame and money.   For the most part I felt sorry for George.  He couldn't crack the McCartney-Lennon partnership, and had no hope of being a key creative force in the band no matter how hard he tried.  John could get away with bringing Yoko everywhere, and the other Beatles simply needed to learn to cope with it.  But nobody had much patience for George's meditation retreats and weirdo Hare Krishna friends.  In short, George needed to go solo more than any of the others. 

Ringo might have been quiet, barely uttering a word during most of the recording sessions, but his importance to the Beatles' sound couldn't have been more stark.  He hardly ever spoke, but he was constantly attentive, never caused any drama, and never had a bad take.  Ringo and Billy Preston were the unsung heroes of the film, always radiating positive vibes and providing the glue to keep the music flowing.  Preston's entry into the band is like night and day, the direction of the project doesn't fully gel until he joins.  

Prior to the release of "Get Back", the narrative was that the mood in the studio was horrible and that The Beatles were on the verge of collapse.  This is partly due to the "Let It Be" documentary (which I haven't seen) that was released over fifty years ago using some of the same footage.  I expected more shouting and arguments, but those are virtually non-existent.  For the most part, everyone is professional and enjoying themselves when they're able to sit together and jam.  A significant part of the film shows them messing around in the studio, playing wacky cover versions and impromptu jams.  Seeing Yoko as a constant presence is a bit strange, she didn't merely come to the studio and hang out, she sits literally next to John all the time, huddled together with the other three Beatles in the jam circle for hours on end.  But she always sits silently, never interrupts, and is never a distraction.  John never asks her to do anything, never asks her opinion.  After a while she simply blends in with the scenery, John clearly wanted her with him day and night, such was the depth of their connection. 

I can't possibly go into detail on all the nuanced character traits, or the multitude of charming and brilliant musical moments.  The direction of the project changes course a few times during the film, and we get to see it play out.  The build to the rooftop concert is a satisfying payoff, but one that remains in doubt nearly until the final moments. 

If there's a theme to it all, it would be the struggle between the idea of the Beatles as a band, and the Beatles as a brand.  Everybody understands that the band is a valuable commodity, even outside of the the conventional record-tour-album cycle, but nobody really understands how to manage it.  Today, it's normal for bands to go on hiatus, pursue outside projects, and reconvene later.  But there was no precedent for it in 1970.  Each Beatle had begun recording solo work -- they even released their work on the record label they personally set up to handle their interests.  And yet they couldn't find a way to balance their solo work with Beatles business.  It was all or nothing.  They were constantly pushing forward, with new projects and new creative outlets.  Monetizing their back catalog and making a profit off of Beatles nostalgia wasn't part of the vocabulary.  Even the addition of Billy Preston presented a challenge -- these days it's normal to add touring musicians, but at the time it was a genuine struggle to find a way to perform the songs because the four of them on stage was the only performance model they'd ever known.  

If there has ever been a better music documentary, I have yet to see it.  I can't see "Get Back" being topped any time soon.               

"Wham!", dir. Chris Smith

This documentary is difficult to follow, flying by breathlessly in a flurry of audio interviews, video clips, and scrapbook entries (the latter lovingly compiled, in thirty comprehensive volumes, by Andrew Ridgeley's mother during the 1980's").  I'm quite sure that was exactly what was intended.  The brief blaze of glory that was Wham should be presented as a whirlwind of events.  

I constantly needed to remind myself about how young they were.  When Michael tearfully accepted the Ivor Novello award for songwriting (the tabloids cruelly found humour in his show of emotion), he was barely twenty one and had been a mainstream pop star for less than two years.   The entire Wham story lasted only four years, and in documentary form it can seem a bit puzzling to watch it end so quickly.  But that four year arc is roughly the same as that of the Spice Girls, Take That, and One Direction.  Anyone who lived through the peaks of those bands knows how ubiquitous they were.  With the years in the rear view mirror, four years seems like a short time, but in the moment, events unfolded in slow motion nearly every day.  None of those groups imploded, they all went out at or close to the peaks of their power and influence.  It was simply time to move on to something else. 

As corny as it sounds, the highlight of the documentary is observing the strength of the Ridgeley-Michael friendship.  There was never any deep bitterness between them, and Ridgeley couldn't have been prouder or more supportive of Michael's solo success.  Michael comes off as a precocious savant, his talents were underappreciated until his genius became impossible to ignore or write off once "Faith" was released.  From writing "Careless Whisper" in 1981 and later producing it himself, to composing "Last Christmas" in a sudden burst of inspiration, the roots of his more mature and complex solo work are evident. 

Michael's sexual orientation is discussed at length.  We learn that he came out to Ridgeley early in Wham's career, and was torn between pursuing megastar status on the Madonna/Prince level and the pressures of not living his life openly.  I'm obviously not the best person to comment on it, but the 80's were not an easy time for the gay community.  They suffered through AIDS while many politicians remained indifferent and large sections of the general public vilified them for introducing it into the general (i.e. straight) population.  Frankie Goes To Hollywood and Jimmy Sommerville were more the exceptions, a great number of stars were terrified about letting the truth get out and presented themselves as ambiguously as possible.  In the 70's, David Bowie and Elton John could flamboyantly dress up in sequined jumpsuits and skintight leotards, that stuff was a no-go in the 80's.  Pop stars were expected to appear suave, rugged, and straight as an arrow, much like in Duran Duran's era-defining video for "Rio".   Michael speaks repeatedly about his ego, about constantly striving to be the best.  Would he have been even better than he was without the emotional stress?

Lush, "Spooky"

I need to counter the revisionist history of Julianne Shepherd's Sunday review in Pitchfork.   

The review paints Lush as underrated and misunderstood, a pop band unfairly lumped into a scene that wasn't suited for them, subject to discrimination on account of the two main songwriters and vocalists being women.  

As a side note, I need to take issue with this line: "Berenyi was the rare woman of color in the alt-rock scene of any subgenre".  As usual, Jews get no diversity points from most critics, the 90's had Justine Frischmann (Elastica), Louise Wener (Sleeper), Carrie Brownstein and Janet Weiss (Sleater-Kinney), just to name a few off the top of my head.  

"Female fronted rock bands" was a media catchphrase in 90's British indie rock, so I don't understand the implication that two women in a rock band was something particularly rare or notable, even in the shoegaze genre.  

Was there discrimination?  Undoubtedly.  Berenyi's autobiography (which I haven't read, but hopefully will eventually) describes many disturbing events in detail.  The video for Spooky's "Nothing Natural" is all the proof you need of the way male record execs tried to market them as sexy exotic gravure idols rather than just focusing on the music as they would have done with any male band.  With their hair billowing in the artificial wind, bodies pressed close, and wistful stares, it's like indie T.A.T.U. one decade ahead of its time.  Berenyi and Anderson don't look comfortable in the least.  

The suggestion that Lush were a pop entity and not really shoegaze is simply false.  In any number of interviews from the time (many good examples are collected here) they talk about burying their vocals in the mix, turning up the guitars, and playing with other bands in the shoegaze scene.  It's nonsensical to suggest that two former fanzine writers with virtually no prior experience in bands didn't know exactly what they were doing by latching onto a popular underground movement to boost interest in their group.  

Lush were always fairly rated.  During the 90's and 00's, dozens of urban centres had dozens of great shoegaze bands each.  Lush weren't better than most of them.  If anything, being a female fronted band helped distinguish them from the wealth of charisma-challenged male bands.  Musically speaking, "Spooky" is fairly pedestrian and displays its influences (Cocteau Twins, MBV) a bit too outwardly, there's a distinct lack of originality and plodding sameness to the tracks.  But that's how it was in the early days of shoegaze.  Most bands simply ripped off the undisputed kings of the genre and burned out quickly.  The more talented ones learned to adapt. Unfortunately, the mid-to-late 90's were a horrible time for shoegaze veterans trying to remain relevant and grow their audience, they were swiftly shunted aside by Britpop (in the UK) or by grunge and nu-metal (in the US).  

Sharing bills with the Gin Blossoms in America wasn't the right move, but the odds were stacked against them anyway.  Still, they had a decent chance at sustaining their success with "Lovelife".  "Ladykillers" smart and sassy and made perfect sense in the post-"Last Splash", post-"Live Through This" alt-rock scene.  It didn't happen, but that's OK.  I always liked them, I bought their "Best Of" and still enjoy a couple of the early EP's.  But they were not a great band, or an important one, or a band that demands an revision of their legacy.