Beethoven's "Unfinished 10th Symphony"

The upcoming premiere of Beethoven's 10th symphony has been making headlines this week, I first learned about it through this feature at The Conversation.  

The article confuses more than it reveals.  It reads like a 1500 word pat on the back for doing something that is poorly defined and poorly described.  The main purpose of the article is to build anticipation for whatever this symphony turns out to be.  

In short, a team of AI researchers and musical consultants took some rough sketches of unfinished Beethoven compositions and attempted to shape them into a completed symphony.  Getting a computer to perform this task requires data, the more the better.  But the sketches contain barely any useful information in this regard, by definition they are incomplete and hardly representative of a completed Beethoven work.  Obviously the team had to rely on Beethoven's completed works to get a true sense of the composer's style.  In that case, what is being "completed" here?  This isn't the first time that computer scientists have trained computers to create music in the style of a famous composer.  If this project had been presented as a reinvention/reincarnation of Beethoven via computer, it would be fine.  But claiming to have completed an unfinished symphony has more sizzle.  

The phrase "Beethoven's creative process" or something to that affect appears six times in the piece, but I never had any inkling of what it is supposed to mean.  Did they teach the computer to throw temper tantums and yell at its programmers?  Is there really a linear, programmable way of extrapolating a piecemeal unfinished product into a polished, performable work?  The descriptions provided in the article are vague.  Usually AI uses the finished products as the inputs for the algorithm.    

Dave Hurwitz made a number of good points in his recent video rant on this article. First, he notes that the sketches they used weren't necessarily written for a symphony.  They were just that, sketches that could have developed into anything.  Assuming they were the basis for a new symphony is an unprovable assumption that is essential to the viability of the entire AI project.  Second, the AI team had to attempt to reproduce Beethoven's orchestration -- how exactly can you try to orchestrate like a deaf person?  Late in his life, were Beethoven's orchestration choices a byproduct of his genius, or inexcusable mistakes on account of his deafness?  There's no way to know.  Trying to sort this out via algorithm is not much more than a shot in the dark.  

The three minute advance clip of the symphony certainly sounds like Beethoven, a bit too much like Beethoven in fact.  It comes across like a variation on the 5th symphony with a dash of the 8th symphony's lighter moments.  There isn't one iota of the fury and pugnacity that appeared in the first movement of the 9th symphony, for instance.  I find it difficult to believe, based on Beethoven's progressions in his later symphonies, that he would have attempted to go retro for his much anticipated 10th.      

Charlie Watts RIP

 The Rolling Stones' drummer was arguably the biggest paradox in rock.  He was a core member of inarguably the most successful (financially speaking) rock band of all time, even though he didn't particularly care for rock and roll.  In interviews, if you could manage to get him to speak about anything at length, it was most likely jazz.  The artistic and canonical worth of the Stones' music wasn't something he'd brag about.  Is there another musician who approached his level of success who cared so little about his musical "legacy"?  The guy just loved drumming, did a masterful job holding down the rhythm section for the Stones, but his passion was whatever jazz ensemble he was leading on the side between tours for Mick and Keith.

The Stones were known for debauchery, it was even used as a marketing counterpoint to the more clean cut Beatles in the early and mid-60's.  But Watts was as straight as an arrow, never fooled around on the road, stayed married to the same woman for nearly his entire tenure with the Stones.  He had some problems with drugs in the 80's but was otherwise above all the rest of the Stones-related gossip.  

Watts' work for the Stones was solid and unspectacular, but as a jazz aficionado you always got the feeling that he was "dumbing it down" to fit the relatively simple rhythms and fills of rock. His drumming looked powerful but never muscular.  With a nonplussed look on his face from the beginning to the end of their concerts, he made drumming for the Stones look smooth, classy, and effortless.

There have been many deaths in the Stones' circle over the years and the juggernaut always finds a way to continue.  They were already planning to tour without Watts even when he out sick.  I'm sure they'll be just as successful without Watts for as long as they plan on continuing.  But his loss will be felt deep.      

EMF, "Schubert Dip"

If you were a Britophile living in North America in the 90's, the story was a familiar one.   Once they'd had some success in the UK, the debate surrounding your new favourite band was always "will they break through in America"?  A couple of years later, when they were on their third album and fourth European tour, the debate parameters almost invariably shifted.  Stateside success was now considered a longshot at best, and the debate question became defeatist -- "why can't they break through in America"?  

When it came down to it, nobody had the answers to these questions.  Manchester bands were all the rage in the late 80's and early 90's, but outside of select college and alternative stations, their music wasn't heard on North American radio.  A few years later, Britpop reached its peak but the music didn't translate for American audiences.  Eventually, Oasis did sell four million copies of "What's the Story Morning Glory" in the US and Blur sold more than 600K of their self titled album.  Oasis were presented as a Beatles retread (hardly a product of the 90's) and Blur mainly sold grunge back to the country of its creation (nothing British about it at all).  The stuff that broke big was rarely what you would have expected or predicted.  

There were some fallow years for British indie music between those two mini-eras.  Jesus Jones were considered hopelessly uncool and not worth hyping in Britain.  But in the US?  "Right Here Right Now" was a major smash, the definitive fall of communism anthem, and reached #2 on the Billboard 100 (kept out of the top spot by Bryan Adams' never-ending run with "(Everything I Do) I Do It For You").  In contrast, it didn't come close to the top 10 in Britain or any European country.  Their album "Doubt" also went platinum in Canada and the US.  

Even more inexplicable was the success of EMF.  The uncoolest copycats to emerge from Madchesters' ashes released "Unbelievable" and somehow ended up with a #1 single on the Billboard 100 in July 1991.  The song was a worldwide hit, reaching the top ten in many European countries, but only reached #1 in the US.  A little bit of context: this was pre-Nirvana when most people under the age of 20 had little clue about "alternative" music, let alone alternative/dance/baggy groups from the UK.  However, C&C Music Factory's "Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now)" went to #1 that year too, surprising many by crossing over from underground dance clubs to the pop charts.  Londonbeat's "I've Been Thinking About You" also hit the top spot that year, as did PM Dawn's "Set Adrift on Memory Bliss".  So pop/house crossovers had a good year on the Billboard 100 in 1991.  Still, who could have possibly guessed that a band of miscreants from the Forest of Dean (where??) would soundtrack the American summer with a number one hit sandwiched between the biggest career successes of Paula Abdul and Bryan Adams?

I haven't heard the album "Schubert Dip" since around 1993, around the time that Britpop took off.  Even when it was released, it felt like an album very much of its time.  By 1993, EMF were practically a relic from ancient times.  But it's been nearly thirty years and the band have reunited three times, so the music remains somewhat timeless at least for some people.  

"Children", the opener, fits that description in spades.  Featuring the oft-used Madchester shuffle beat, acid-y squelches, and a shouty, energetic chorus, it's hard to conceptualize a more 1991-sounding song than this.  But it remains a chest-thumping triumph, and probably should have been an anthem.   "Long Summer Days" and "When You're Mine" are perfectly passable album track fodder that keep the energy level simmering along nicely.  

Then things take a turn towards the ridiculous with what was supposed to be a love song, "Travelling Not Running".  The laid back vibe actually ressembles the polished dance pop that New Order would overuse on "Republic" two years later.  The effortless, acerbic charm that characterizes even the worst New Order songs is nowhere to be found though, the song has no reason to exist other than to show a more serious, sensitive side to the band.  The lyrics are sub-sub-Sumner-ian at best.  The chorus begins: "I could have been, anything for you/I could have been old/I could have been blue."  Read all the lyrics for yourself, nearly every line is a howler.   The next track, "I Believe", is a Madchester paint-by-numbers song that fills out the first side of the album and nothing more.

The next two seconds of music you'll hear are a giant wake-up call -- the half-shouted, half-moaned "OHH", clanging cowbell, gurgling bass, and squealing guitar are the intro to their deservedly huge hit single.  Four ideas that could have clashed horribly but somehow fit perfectly.  The "Paid In Full" beat, the awkward rap, the Andrew Dice Clay samples, the false endings -- all could have come off as silly cliches, but never do.  "Unbelievable" is the sound of a naive band piling all their best ideas into one song and hitting a home run with their eyes closed. 

"Girl Of An Age" is the downtempo teen angst-y track that "Travelling Not Running" tried to be.  You won't find anything profound in EMF's lyrics, but this is a uncomplicated near-ballad that is an effective comedown after "Unbelievable"'s euphoria.  The rest of the album, "Admit It", "Lies", and "Longtime" are mostly padding.  You could call "Schubert Dip" the proverbial great EP stretched out into an album.  EMF obviously knew what kind of band they wanted to be with this album, but they clearly didn't have enough great songs to actually fill an album.

So overall, "Schubert Dip" in 2021 was exactly what I expected -- a perfectly listenable and completely of its time album.  Their ambition still shines through nearly thirty years later, even if the execution couldn't come close to match. Before 90's music became dour, before emo, before grunge, EMF were all about dancing and fun and you still enjoy that in quick doses even today.    

"Rocketman", dir. Dexter Fletcher (2019)

 My earliest memories of Elton John are from the era of "I Guess That's Why They Call It the Blues" and "I'm Still Standing", that is, the MTV-ready, suburbia-approved, flamboyance-lite version of Elton.  To this day, Elton prancing on the beach in Cannes in the video for "I'm Still Standing" is my default likeness of him, and the juxtaposition between that Elton and the mythical chameleon-like creature who became a megastar in the 70's has informed my opinion of him ever since.  Incidentally, the same is true for David Bowie, who made a similar about face around the same time.   

It thus turns out that my memories begin where "Rocketman" ends, with Taron Egerton digitally inserted into the "I'm Still Standing" video in place of Elton.  It's the exact point when every VH1 "Behind The Music" episode ends, with the return to prominence to conclude the artist's redemption arc.  I can understand why they chose this plot structure for the movie, because who doesn't root for a happy ending?  

As a piece of art, however, there's very little substance here.  Most of the characters are caricatures of record producers, managers, even Elton's wife Renate comes across like a naive simpleton during the few minutes she's on screen.  The plot proceeds in bullet point form, providing only the barest of relevant details designed to set up the intro to the next song.  Dialogue and the relationships between characters are minor interludes while we wait for the music to start up again.  Perhaps, with the success of totally vacuous movie musicals like "Mamma Mia", that's what people really want.

The interactions between Egerton and Jamie Bell as Bernie Taupin are the exceptions, the rare moments when two real human beings were navigating through a set of complex emotions on screen.  There's a scene when somebody praises Elton by effusing about how much the songs speak to them, essentially saying "I feel like I really know you".  Elton more than anyone knew that he was the vessel for Taupin's words.  For a person who spent most of his life to that point searching for his identity, dressing up daily in a land of make believe love and celebrity that revolved around him, that was a bitter pill to swallow.  

The best scene in the movie, and the only one truly approaching high art, is the "Rocket Man" episode, where Elton tries to drown himself in his LA pool.  He's snatched from the pool bottom, loaded into an ambulance, and in one fell swoop (accompanied by dancing paramedics) thrust onto the stage in Dodger stadium wearing a sequin covered baseball uniform.  Those five minutes perfectly encapsulated the illogical excesses of the time.

A better movie about Elton would have focused on a single year of his life in the mid-70's, a blow by blow examination of the madness that could have taken its cues from "Almost Famous" rather than "Behind the Music".  

Jane Bordeaux, live at Shoham Arts Centre (26/06)

 This was my first post-pandemic concert and it was in a most unlikely place -- a cultural centre in the small city of Shoham.  Surprisingly, the Tel Aviv alt-country hipster vibe translated well to the more upscale suburban population of this town.  And it couldn't have been easy for the band -- with the mask mandate back in place over the weekend, they were faced with a wall of expressionless, masked clones with which to engage with.

Jane Bordeaux are a charming, professional bunch, but I actually find their Americana-drenched songs about heartbreak and whiskey fairly unconvincing.  They're at their best when they delve into sleepy dreampop, more akin to early Beach House.  I'm sure most of their fans (and even perhaps the band themselves) would strongly disagree.  Nevertheless, their perfectly paced 75-minute set was filled with highs and ended with a sweet singalong to the Beatles' "All You Need Is Love".  Tough to find a better band to ease out of a pandemic with -- slowly, gracefully, and without much fanfare.  

Flaming Lips, "The Time Has Come to Shoot You Down ... What a Sound"

Like most fans who grew up adoring the Stone Roses' debut album, I was prepared to hate this track-by-track 2013 remake by Flaming Lips and a motley crew of guest collaborators.  But instead I found it a charming, even mildly ambitious take on the original album.   All hints of the swagger and arrogance of the Roses have disappeared, buried under layers of bleepy electronica and blissed out dream pop.  That could be viewed as a positive depending on your views of the Roses.  Arrogance can be easily construed as a negative, even in the context of rock and roll.  I prefer to frame it as belief.  Bands that emerge fully formed on their debut albums exude a tangible belief in the concept and vision for the band, despite their reluctance (or even failure) to conform to the norms of their time.  The Velvet Underground had it on their debut album, Joy Division had it, Guns N Roses had it.  Anyway, all of that is missing on the Flaming Lips versions.  But the melodies, if anything, shine through even stronger, and the sound palate is far wider. 

It's the Flaming Lips, so of course there are silly, unnecessary excesses.  "Waterfall" doesn't need to switch moods and vocalists midway through, shifting from pretty bedroom pop into screechy noise.  "She Bangs The Drums" is progressing just fine before devolving into an embarrassing space movie electronic squelch-fest.  On the other hand, "Bye Bye Badman" was the throwaway track on the Roses album, but FL transform it into an echo-laden, shimmering, sun-drenched anthem.  "Sugar Spun Sister" unexpectedly turns into a minor epic thanks to a gorgeous ambient shoegaze intro leading into a wonderfully hazy mess that's straight out of "Lovelee Sweet Darlene"-era MBV.  "Shoot You Down", one of the weaker tracks on the original album, turns into a storming 80's synth pop.  Beneath the huge gated drums sound and the twinkly looping synths, you can almost believe it was meant to be a love song.  

Romantic Revolution - Bruckner Unlimited

 I was intrigued by this album after hearing excerpts on a Spotify playlist ("Classical meets electronica -- classical pieces reworked by contemporary electronic musicians).  The collection is the results of a remix contest promoted by the Deutsches Symphonie Orchester Berlin.  Henrik Schwarz was a patron of the competition and served on the judging committee.  The entrants were given the task of remixing a DSO recording of the fourth movement of Bruckner's Fourth Symphony ("Romantic"), and the results form an eclectic collection of styles ranging from fuzzy ambient to downtempo lounge beats.   Despite the pedigree and the uniqueness of the enterprize, I couldn't find a single review on the internet (at least not in English)! so here are some of my thoughts:

S/QU/NC/R's "Maessig bewegt" is a more than deserving winning entry, very reminiscent of Fennesz's work.  It falls somewhere between Fennesz's own Mahler remix experiments -- classical maximalism meets blissed out ambient serenity -- and his sublimely twisted "Plays" EP.   However, the second prize entry, Lambert Windges' "Something Went Wrong" is fairly straightforward downtempo coctail bar fare.  In third place, Aibos' "SONEL" is delightfully adventurous.  It starts with Murcof-like expansiveness -- lonely piano, stark atmospherics and dry beats -- before morphing into a funky jazz trio type thing punctuated by slabs of string orchestra-like noise.  

Rounding out the compilation, VennDiagram's "Moments de Lucidite Consciente" is more bleepy downtempo music but with some interesting atmospherics in the form of ghost-in-the-machine strings lurking throughout.  Artic Joy's "Revolution of Chaos" features breakbeats and a multitude of processed orchestra samples.  Pizzicatto strings and chilling, shuddering bass are the most prominent.  But it's the first track on here that sounds very much like a remix of the original material rather than a completely reimagined piece.  Next, V. B. Kuehl's "One Step Away" is straightforward and simple, a mid-90's Red Snapper homage driven by a noodly guitar loop and a flurry of samples.  

Quadra Pong 2.0's "Goodbye to Romance" is a unexpected change of pace, a beautifully sad work filled with nearly unintelligible whispers and lonely-sounding vibraphone.  It's the shortest work on the album but really comes across like a long, sentimental goodbye. 

The album then takes a 180-degree turn, as Frieder Dziobek and Patrick Eckert bury the source material deep within a sunny club-ready tech-house track, followed by another sharp turn back to icy, near-isolationist downtempo electronica.  Haraamo's "Symphony #4" isn't for everybody, but for me is a standout track on this collection and should have landed one of the top three prizes. 

Inspiral Carpets, "Cool as **** EP"

If ESPN can milk "30 for 30" well past their 30th anniversary, then I can run my series of 20 records I haven't heard in 20 years (since starting the blog in January 2000) well past year 21.  We will get to 20 eventually, I promise.  This will be the sixth in the series, and I have the next six records already lined up, waiting to be heard for the first time (with near certainty) since the 1990's ...

Out of the Madchester Big Three, Inspiral Carpets are, and were, by far the least famous.  The Stone Roses had the best peak musically, Happy Mondays had the best notoriety and were uncannily in the right place at the right time to capitalize on their limited talent (in no small part thanks to their label, which did all they could to promote the myth).  Inspiral Carpets had a longer peak than either of them (and a better peak than the Mondays) but could never quite transcend their reputation as a somewhat geeky number three in the Manchester hierarchy.    

I wore my "Cool as F***" shirt (without the asterisks) a good luck charm in tests and exams for years.  So this EP has a unique sentimental value that no other record in this series can match thus far.  

The record itself is a US-only release that compiled a few of their early singles and was released as a sort of lead-in to their debut album "Life".  

The Carpets' formula is on display from the opening notes of "Joe" -- blasts of shiny organ over shuddering bass and syncopated beats.  There's a clear nod to the Fall (and perhaps even the Mondays) in its minimalist bluster and shouty-lite vocals, but without the grit and upheaval that you get from the best of the Fall.  More creative, catchier melodies would come with the "Life"-era singles.  

"Find Out Why" is silly and awkward but nails the chorus in a way that "Joe" can't touch.  "So Far" has barely a glint of a decent melody and comes as every bit of the blatantly tossed-off B-side that it was.  "Out of Time" mostly exists in order to be an easily shoutable chorus in live shows, but as a two minute slice of bouncy pop, it certainly accomplishes its intended goal. 

The EP ends with the 16-minute "Plane Crash", which starts as an homage to "Bob Dylan's 115th Dream" before launching into an extended organ jam punctuated by churning guitar-based noises and other airy sound effects.  "What Goes On" it's not.  Singer "Tom Hingley" declares, on record, that "it's only been ten minutes" toward the end of the middle jamming portion, suggesting that they were going long purely for the sake of doing it.  A couple of years later, they'd get it right with "Further Away", a 14-minute monster with nary a wasted note.  But "Plane Crash" is certainly not the tense epic that I remember it being.  

How about that t-shirt though?  It supposedly sold better than any of their albums? 

Jim Steinman RIP

I just heard about Steinman's passing this past weekend.  I wrote about "Bat Out of Hell II" recently and since then, I have been feeling sentimental about Steinman's contributions to music.  I knew about many of his non-Meatloaf compositions for some time but it was only a year or two ago that I stumbled upon the knowledge that he co-wrote and produced some of Sisters of Mercy's biggest hits ("This Corrosion", "More", "Dominion").  It makes perfect sense once you know, at which point you can't unhear Steinman's influence in future listens.  And it figures that Steinman would be the best person to bring out the OTT hilarity in goth rock.  

Which was the more impressive achievement, BOOH I or BOOH II?  The first album was famously rejected by every major record label but went on to become one of the biggest selling albums ever.  It's hard to understand why no label thought it would be marketable, considering that the 70's was a decade full of overproduced histrionic rock excess.  The 90's gets repped (by rock fans) as the decade of grunge and alternative rock, but the truth is more complex.  In the early 90's, Bryan Adams, Tom Petty, Aerosmith, and Eric Clapton hit their commercial peak.  Each was highly recognizable thanks to heavy rotation on MTV and some memorable videos.  So there was plenty of space for rock "veterans" even as the landscape was shifting.  However, each of them were active during the 80's and continued their success into the 90's. By 1993, Meatloaf was a burnout and a nobody who made a completely improbable comeback to the upper strata of the industry.  Even more improbable was how BOOH was promoted as a Big Event Album despite Meatloaf not being relevant for over a decade.  "I'd Do Anything For Love" hit the airwaves/MTV and its astonishing success seemed almost preordained.  That speaks to Steinman's continued clout in the industry, the value in the BOOH name, and of course, the unexpected quality of the album.  The music was a black sheep completely out of place and out of sync with everything else happening at the time.  There was no indication that this type of music would make a comeback -- and in fact, it didn't.  Steinman-inspired rock wasn't a returning fad, BOOH II was in a bubble of its own success.  It was influenced by nothing except itself and inspired no copycats. It appeared out of nothing and then vanished into the ether.  BOOH I is the better album, but BOOH II's triumph ran contrary to all sense and logic of the time, and still stands as the more impressive overall achievement.   

Vienna Philharmonic Symphony Edition, Volume 2

There is a bottomless pit of boxsets devoted to a single conductor, and rightly so.  It's a shame that there aren't more that focus on orchestras.  On iTunes I could only find this set and a couple of similar sets for the Berlin Philharmonic (broken into different time periods).  Admittedly, those are the first two you'd expect to be given the box set treatment.  I'm sure there are others -- I've seen Israel Philharmonic sets in brick and mortar stores -- but there should be more. 

The Vienna box presents a brief survey of a composers work, usually featuring multiple conductors. It makes perfect sense to feature the VPO like this, since they are the rare orchestra that has eschewed having permanent principal conductors throughout most of their long history.  In other words, they're used to having their signature sound molded by a sequence of guest conductors.  Although the first, larger volume seemed to attract more attention when it was released, the second volume is much more my style, based around Romantic and early 20th century composers.

I received a crash course in Bruckner from this box, which was actually a big selling point for me.  Bruckner essentially wrote the same symphony nine times, with progressively longer run times, while rarely straying from strictly imposed forms for each movement.  That's a criticism for some, but an ethos for Bruckner superfans.   Abbado's Bruckner 1 is taut and energetic.  His Bruckner 4 is strong too, but Bruckner 5 felt too safe, too benign.  von Karajan takes over for the 7th and 8th, two oft-cited reference recordings.   The 8th, which was one of his final concerts, is simply spectacular.  Giulini's Bruckner 9 is certainly passable, but failed to bring out anything truly inspiring from the piece.

von Karajan conducts Tchaikovsky's 4th, 5th, and 6th, which are all wonderful but special mention must go to the devastatingly powerful 6th.

Next comes Dvorak.  I was unfamiliar with Myung-Whun Chung, but he did fantastic work on Dvorak's 6th and 7th symphonies.  Both are punchy, exciting, and strike the perfect emotional tone of the work.  Lorin Maazel's 8th and 9th were big disappointments though, particularly the 9th, which was simply dull and underplayed throughout.  The dynamics were simply absent, the entire piece felt devoid of feeling and inspiration.       

I had read reviews about this recording of Mahler 2 by Abbado, which universally criticized it as dull and slow-moving.  Those reviews were completely correct.  The first movement comes off well, but the rest plods along.  All the tension in the music evaporates during each quiet part in the finale, and the final minutes were horribly recorded and overcompressed.  Bernstein's Mahler 5 is deserving of its reputation as one of the finest ever recordings of that symphony.  My favourite thing on this box set might be Pierre Boulez's simply breathtaking Mahler 6.  The whole symphony is great, but the finale in particular is seat-of-your-pants excitement and suspense.  Just the perfect combination of orchestra and a conductor with the right temperment for the source material.  Bernstein's live Mahler 8 is certainly fun, with the conductor audibly banging on the podium and barely keeping the tiger under control.  Abbado's Mahler 9 is a mixed bag.  The opening movement gets the emphasis wrong for my tastes.  The chaotic parts should be the interludes that interrupt the blissfully quieter portions, but Abbado does the opposite.  However, the third movement is scorching, and the final Adagio is suitably devastating without a doubt.

Bernstein's four Sibelius symphonies are far from his best work with that composer.  All were recorded in Bernstein's 80's slow tempo period.  These tempos almost completely kill the 1st and 5th symphonies, both are exciting in parts but the longer running lengths simply drained my patience while listening to them.  That approach is much more successful on the short, single movement 7th symphony.  I have a soft spot for this Sibelius 2 recording, which I first discovered via videos on Youtube.  It's also far too slow, and drags significantly for the first two movements but the melodramatic tempos are exploited to their fullest on the powerful two final movements.  

Bernstein closes out the box conducting Shostakovich's 6th and 9th, which are passable but nothing special.

All in all, what's to complain about?  Each recording was previously released, so many VPO fans will have heard the best stuff already.  But for someone looking to grow their collection, you get 24 discs worth of music (more if you buy the full symphony edition set) including a few all time great recordings, and generally notable work from beginning to end.