Catalogue music is king

The Telegraph published an article lamenting on how difficult it is for new artists to generate hit albums.  Note that this refers to hit albums, not singles, as far as I can tell, hit singles for newer artists are booming just fine.  

I find it difficult to sympathize with how new artists supposedly have it so bad.   I think it was inevitable that with streaming becoming the dominant medium for listening, and algorithms shaping personal tastes (as opposed to actually going into a music store, listening, and deciding what you like for yourself) that catalogue music would explode.  It's never been easier or more convenient to seek out older music.  The music industry loves this model -- labels don't have to spend money on A&R and marketing, every lisence agreement and stream is pure profit for them.  Directing listener's tastes toward more profitable music is obviously in their interest, so why wouldn't they embrace streaming and allow algorithms to market their music to listeners for them?  And of course, with this system the consumer never owns anything -- they pay subscription money in perpetuity to continue hearing the songs they want.  

Rick Beato spoke about a topic that I believe is related -- the homogeneity of radio station programming and producer styles.  Uniformity leads to collectively playing it safe.  National radio programming means you can't risk catering to niche elements of your listener base, you need to tailor your programming choices to the broadest possible audience, and that extends to the sounds of the records as well.

The increasing homogenization of music makes catalogue music stand out even more.  "Running Up That Hill" wasn't a massive hit after thirty seven years just because it was featured in a popular Netflix show.  It became a hit because it doesn't sound remotely like anything else produced in the 2020's.  It didn't sound like anything produced in the 1980's either, but the point isn't that listeners today are more cultured or educated and appreciate Kate Bush more than the supposedly less-forward thinking listeners of the 80's.  The point is that homogenization and corporately approved algorithms has numbed the taste of the modern listener to such an extent that a Kate Bush can put 90% of today's music to shame simply by existing and getting even the smallest random marketing boost.  How many other would-be hits from past decades are waiting in the wings, ready to burst onto the charts if they're given the tiniest promotional opening?

Bo! Soon Is Now

I'm sure he's told the story before, but Johnny Marr's description of the creative process that lead to the iconic intro riff to "How Soon Is Now? is nothing short of mesmerizing. 

When you listen to his story, and compare the guitar parts without tremelo (pleasant, but not really happening, as acknowledged by Marr) and with the tremelo, then it couldn't be any more obvious.  Why had I never made this association in my mind even once during the past thirty plus years?  Of course it's a Bo Diddley sound and groove.  What else could it even be? 

Of course musicians try to emulate their heroes.  It's just that their heroes aren't always the people we expect.  The contemporary music press frames a band and their influences according to then current trends.  A band markets itself relative to what its fans want.  British indie rock fans weren't name dropping Bo Diddley in 1985.  He was too bluesy, too American, too older generation.  

The best thing about social media is its proclivity to get these kinds of stories out, irrespective of the commercial apparatus that surrounds the music.  

"How Soon Is Now" is older now than Bo Diddley's earliest hits were when "How Soon Is Now" was recorded.  The best way for a legend like Marr to advertise his current projects is to open the curtain into a long departed world. 

Ode to the n'th shoegaze revival

Shoegaze is more culturally relevant now that it has ever been.  I had nothing to do with this, and didn't even know it was happening until I started reading the year in review pieces over the past month.  One had to be on TikTok or following certain TV shows, I guess, and that's not a complaint or a put-down, it's simply a self-reflecting statement about how far I'm removed from the reality of popular Gen Z culture these days. Although in retrospect, I should have suspected something based on the number of quality dream pop playlists showing up on Spotify.

Philip Sherburne's wrap-up for Pitchfork is predictably excellent, summarizing the successes of first generation and newer bands, as well as acts given a second life thanks to current trends.  His explanation for the genre's success is simple: it may have started as an introspective micro-offshoot of indie rock (with a derogatory name to boot), but its sound was always bold, confident, powerful, and even inspirational. As Sherburne writes, "...the sound of shoegaze has always aimed skyward, reaching further toward the stars with every billowing, coruscating chord."  When you put it that way, it comes across as a genre that was forever convinced of its own inevitable, inescapable success!  

Shoegaze in the late 80's and early 90's was the story of shy teenagers and early 20-somethings bursting out of their bedrooms and finding the inner strength to be extroverted standing behind a panel of guitar effects pedals.  It appears that's still true today, except that the kids don't need to leave their bedrooms, and in some cases, don't even need to buy the guitar pedals.  Eli Enis dives deep into TikTok's role in making shoegaze a breakout genre, and it's not even appropriate to talk about a "revival" when none of the 18-year olds were even born until years after the initial wave of 90's band had mostly broken up and disappeared.  Personally, when I listen to the TikTok acts, I hear more of a resemblance to Nirvana's standoffish ennui than MBV maximalist sheets of noise.  Nirvana T-shirts are more popular than ever, and it feels like they're long gone but have never really gone away, much like it was with the Beatles, Doors, Pink Floyd and plenty of other 60's bands that every music obsessed teenager was familiar with in the early 90's.  

Nirvana's anti-rock star poses have never really aged, it goes without saying that they've permeated the culture more than any shoegaze act ever did.  But at the same time, I have always been struck by how forward-thinking shoegaze has always been.  One could usually identify a 70's or 80's track based on their signature production cues, but with shoegaze, it's almost like we reached the production endgame.  Any track made today could have been believably recorded in 2013, or 2003, or 1993.  Burying the vocals in the mix also helps to transcend language and culture barriers, never tying the music to a specific country or era, thereby helping the music endure irrespective of its then-contemporary audience.       

"Maestro", dir. Bradley Cooper

I remember the final years of Leonard Bernstein's life, he was the superstar classical conductor who was paradoxically famous for composing one of the most beloved musicals.  His life story was spectacular but wholly linear.  In Mahler's time, he too was considered to be a conductor first, and a composer a distant second.  As the decades passed, the narrative flipped.  The person and his art was out of step with the societal norms of his time.  

"Maestro" accomplishes two very remarkable things.  First, it prominently features Bernstein's compositions in the soundtrack.  It showcases his remarkable flexibility as a composer, ranging from campy musical theatre to serious symphonic tours de force.  Overloading the soundtrack with pieces from the standard repetoire, from Mozart, Beethoven, or Haydn (Bernstein was an outstanding conductor of all three) would have been a safe and easy choice.  By placing his music front and centre, the movie makes the case that Bernstein was one of the most dynamic 20th century composers, and in my opinion it largely succeeds.  

Second, it presents Bernstein's struggle with his homosexuality and his struggles with his personal creativity as two sides of the same coin.  Actually, "struggle" is a bit misleading.  Bernstein knew exactly who he was in his personal life, and knew exactly who he was as a composer.  The problem was in how to present these facets in public.  Attempting to conform to what was expected of him, as a husband/father and as an artist, was a ongoing battle that was never resolved in his lifetime.  

"Maestro" isn't a biopic in that there is no attempt to highlight the key moments and accomplishments in Bernstein's life, no gimmicky "fly on the wall" recreations save for a brief snippet of his NY Phil conducting debut and the final six minutes of Mahler's "Resurrection" Symphony from Ely Cathedral with the LSO.  The latter essentially packs all of the reenactions into a single epic take.  The music and the setting is magical, although Cooper's conducting is unnecessarily histrionic, even for a Bernstein imitation.  I know the video and audio recording of that performance quite well, Cooper takes it a bit too far, perhaps the only time in the movie where he doesn't completely nail his subject.  Consider the difficulty of Cooper's task, in playing Bernstein at ages 25, 35, 45, 55, and 65, adapting flawlessly to the changes in his voice and mannerisms over those decades.

Thus, Bernstein's prodigious career accomplishments are downplayed, and the movie really focuses on his fascinating and complex relationship with his wife Felicia. It might be the best love story I have even seen in a music-centred movie.        

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).