Nothing will ever break my brain like the Dave Ogilvie/NIN/Carly Rae Jepsen mutual admiration society did, but this story comes close.
What's more surprising, the fact that Godspeed like Weird Al's music and hand picked him for ATP, or that Weird Al sometimes listens to Godspeed's music? It's truly the chicken vs egg debate of our time. And it's hard to believe that he'd never played a single show in Europe over a career spanning more than thirty years, and after all this time, who finally stepped forward to make it happen? Did anyone guess Godspeed You! Black Emperor?
You have to respect GY!BE for staying true to their principles after all these years. Alternative icons like Trent Reznor, Metallica, and Red Hot Chili Peppers got nice haircuts and became mainstream (even Oscar winning!) superstars a long time ago, but GY!BE won't compromise or tone themselves down even just a little bit, even after more than fifteen years, even long after indie bands "selling out" became as routine as breathing. Most indie rock fans couldn't care less about these sorts of outdated "principles", and yet here they are more or less telling the Polaris Prize organizers to go fuck themselves. Railing against billion dollar companies on one hand, curating major music festivals featuring Weird Al Yankovic on the other, you can't say that GY!BE don't control their own destinies and do precisely what they want to do, when they want to do it, this time and for all time. And that's something I'll always respect about them.
Monday, September 30, 2013
Saturday, September 28, 2013
25th anniversary of the Billboard Modern Rock Chart
Chris Molanphy's article commemorating the 25th anniversary of the Billboard Modern Rock/Alternative chart is tremendous and an essential read for anyone who grew up on the version of "alternative" music as defined by that Siouxsie and the Banshees-topping first chart back in 1988. We're basically talking about people born between 1968 and 1976 who remember "alternative" music when it was a catch-all phrase for a genre-spanning (but mostly rock-based) collection of countercultural music that rarely found a way to sniff the "real" charts, rather than a genre unto itself (i.e. a euphemism for grunge and everyone who rode grunge's coattails to stardom).
Molanphy's breakdown of the chart into six "eras" is spot on. Anyone who was listening in the "British Empire" era (1988-1993 according to Molanphy) but still paid attention after that to the general happenings in the pop charts probably had a moment around era number four or five (2000-2008 or so) where they were surprised to see that the chart was still around. Like me, they probably glanced at Billboard, saw RCHP or Foo Fighters topping the chart in the middle of one of their many 10+ week runs at the top, and wondered what the hell happened and what was even the point of this chart anymore.
Three comments related tangentially to Molanphy's article:
1) Although the article gamely attempts to accord some kind of overall historical meaning to the chart, the fact is that nobody, probably including musical artists, has ever given a crap about the Modern Rock chart. Molanphy is certainly not blind to this -- he more or less defines it as "a chart to track music loved by an audience that didn't want to be charted -- but I'm hard pressed to think of a major national music chart that has had less impact or sense of worth to the artists and fans involved.
2) The "coming full circle" narrative of the article, where the awful rap-metal and rock of the 00's is symbolically phased out and a woman reaches #1 again on the chart, is a bit forced and artificial. It's been a male-dominated chart for the past fifteen years, no doubt, but Evanescence, Hole, Chumbawamba, and The White Stripes have all been to #1 for multiple weeks since then, and all feature female members in prominent roles (including lead singing roles, with the exception of The White Stripes). True, none of them were solo female artists, but it wasn't a total dead zone for female artists as the article implies (not even mentioning Gotye f. Kimbra from just last year). And in the two years prior to Tracy Bonham having the last #1 by a solo female artist until Lorde earlier this month, Tori Amos, The Cranberries, and Alanis Morissette had #1 hits and sold zillions of records at the height of alternative music's commercial peak.
"Somebody That I Used To Know" being recognized as the Billboard Hot 100 song of the year and Alternative song of the year is impressive, but not as impressive at it would seem considering that the music industry virtually killed off the single in the early 90's. Albums were what counted in the 90's unless you were Mariah Carey or a friend/collaborator of Mariah Carey. In 2013, the balance is tipped in favour of songs again, there are no more Cakes and Smashmouths having minor hits and selling millions of albums. Now, if your album went platinum then you almost certainly had a huge hit on the Hot 100. Alanis Morissette's songs were everywhere in '95-'96, and as it stands she had arguably the biggest album of the 90's. In the current climate she almost certainly would have had a few #1's on the Hot 100 as well.
To me, the most amazing thing about Gotye's success is that for more than a decade, there wasn't a single #1 on the Hot 100 that could even be remotely considered as an alternative crossover hit. Nobody fluked into a #1 until Owl City managed it in 2009, and since then the #1 spot on the Hot 100 has been more or less a steady stream of proven singles heavyweights. Nobody paved the way for "Somebody That I Used To Know" to break through, it was a truly unprecedented smash hit. The previous Hot 100/Alternative crossover smash hit was probably Barenaked Ladies' "One Week", which hit #1 on the Modern Rock and Hot 100 in 1998 (but not simultaneously, strangely enough).
3) Perhaps the most glaring omission in the article is any mention of the Hot 100 changing from a "singles" chart to a "songs" chart in 1998. For instance, Goo Goo Dolls' "Iris" was inescapable in 1998, but wasn't eligible to chart on the Hot 100 because it wasn't originally released as a single. But the time it finally received a single release, the song had peaked in real, popularity terms with five weeks at the top of the Modern Rock chart and eighteen weeks (still a record) at the top of the Hot 100 Airplay charts. So for all intents and purposes, Goo Goo Dolls should have had a smash crossover #1 hit, and you could say the same for No Doubt's "Don't Speak" and many other songs during the mid-90's. Molanphy's 1997-1999 "faux-ternative" era comes off as a tepid placeholder between the decline of the grunge giants and the resurgence of the 2000's brand of cock rock. Like them or not, the faux-ternative bands were a hugely successful brand of pop music, more so than any "alternative" bands that came before or since.
Molanphy's breakdown of the chart into six "eras" is spot on. Anyone who was listening in the "British Empire" era (1988-1993 according to Molanphy) but still paid attention after that to the general happenings in the pop charts probably had a moment around era number four or five (2000-2008 or so) where they were surprised to see that the chart was still around. Like me, they probably glanced at Billboard, saw RCHP or Foo Fighters topping the chart in the middle of one of their many 10+ week runs at the top, and wondered what the hell happened and what was even the point of this chart anymore.
Three comments related tangentially to Molanphy's article:
1) Although the article gamely attempts to accord some kind of overall historical meaning to the chart, the fact is that nobody, probably including musical artists, has ever given a crap about the Modern Rock chart. Molanphy is certainly not blind to this -- he more or less defines it as "a chart to track music loved by an audience that didn't want to be charted -- but I'm hard pressed to think of a major national music chart that has had less impact or sense of worth to the artists and fans involved.
2) The "coming full circle" narrative of the article, where the awful rap-metal and rock of the 00's is symbolically phased out and a woman reaches #1 again on the chart, is a bit forced and artificial. It's been a male-dominated chart for the past fifteen years, no doubt, but Evanescence, Hole, Chumbawamba, and The White Stripes have all been to #1 for multiple weeks since then, and all feature female members in prominent roles (including lead singing roles, with the exception of The White Stripes). True, none of them were solo female artists, but it wasn't a total dead zone for female artists as the article implies (not even mentioning Gotye f. Kimbra from just last year). And in the two years prior to Tracy Bonham having the last #1 by a solo female artist until Lorde earlier this month, Tori Amos, The Cranberries, and Alanis Morissette had #1 hits and sold zillions of records at the height of alternative music's commercial peak.
"Somebody That I Used To Know" being recognized as the Billboard Hot 100 song of the year and Alternative song of the year is impressive, but not as impressive at it would seem considering that the music industry virtually killed off the single in the early 90's. Albums were what counted in the 90's unless you were Mariah Carey or a friend/collaborator of Mariah Carey. In 2013, the balance is tipped in favour of songs again, there are no more Cakes and Smashmouths having minor hits and selling millions of albums. Now, if your album went platinum then you almost certainly had a huge hit on the Hot 100. Alanis Morissette's songs were everywhere in '95-'96, and as it stands she had arguably the biggest album of the 90's. In the current climate she almost certainly would have had a few #1's on the Hot 100 as well.
To me, the most amazing thing about Gotye's success is that for more than a decade, there wasn't a single #1 on the Hot 100 that could even be remotely considered as an alternative crossover hit. Nobody fluked into a #1 until Owl City managed it in 2009, and since then the #1 spot on the Hot 100 has been more or less a steady stream of proven singles heavyweights. Nobody paved the way for "Somebody That I Used To Know" to break through, it was a truly unprecedented smash hit. The previous Hot 100/Alternative crossover smash hit was probably Barenaked Ladies' "One Week", which hit #1 on the Modern Rock and Hot 100 in 1998 (but not simultaneously, strangely enough).
3) Perhaps the most glaring omission in the article is any mention of the Hot 100 changing from a "singles" chart to a "songs" chart in 1998. For instance, Goo Goo Dolls' "Iris" was inescapable in 1998, but wasn't eligible to chart on the Hot 100 because it wasn't originally released as a single. But the time it finally received a single release, the song had peaked in real, popularity terms with five weeks at the top of the Modern Rock chart and eighteen weeks (still a record) at the top of the Hot 100 Airplay charts. So for all intents and purposes, Goo Goo Dolls should have had a smash crossover #1 hit, and you could say the same for No Doubt's "Don't Speak" and many other songs during the mid-90's. Molanphy's 1997-1999 "faux-ternative" era comes off as a tepid placeholder between the decline of the grunge giants and the resurgence of the 2000's brand of cock rock. Like them or not, the faux-ternative bands were a hugely successful brand of pop music, more so than any "alternative" bands that came before or since.
Saturday, September 21, 2013
Electronic music in the 80's in East Germany
Most unique and outright fascinating oral history of the year? http://www.redbullmusicacademy.com/magazine/east-german-electronic-music-oral-history
I'm not even sure what I can add to this, since the subject matter is so far removed from my personal experience, but this is essential reading. Cold War era Eastern European music history is sitting on a gold mine of great stories and important music criticism just waiting to happen (at least in English). For the longest time, these stories literally couldn't be spread outside of their extremely well guarded borders. The press and other forms of written communication were subject to crackdowns, and so the best way to perpetuate a music scene (and preserve its memory) had to be through word of mouth and personal experiences of those involved. Thus, for retelling the story today, the oral history is completely appropriate and not simply the fashionable thing to do.
This really turns the American version of DIY on its head. In New York there were countless stories of art school dropouts forming bands because they were bored. They didn't know how to play instruments but it hardly mattered -- in fact, it was almost a badge of honour -- and they would stumble into regular gigs without even trying But in East Berlin in the 80's, you had talented musicians who were heavily devoted to their craft who had to jump through a labyrinth of hoops just to get their instruments smuggled into the country, let alone find gigs. Building a fan base without getting the secret police on your case was a challenge, and you practically had to know somebody in the ruling communist party to sniff the inside of a recording studio. There's no doubt it was DIY, but it couldn't be more different from the oft-told American version.
Hopefully this and anthologies like Depeche Mode's Monument are just the tip of the iceberg.
I'm not even sure what I can add to this, since the subject matter is so far removed from my personal experience, but this is essential reading. Cold War era Eastern European music history is sitting on a gold mine of great stories and important music criticism just waiting to happen (at least in English). For the longest time, these stories literally couldn't be spread outside of their extremely well guarded borders. The press and other forms of written communication were subject to crackdowns, and so the best way to perpetuate a music scene (and preserve its memory) had to be through word of mouth and personal experiences of those involved. Thus, for retelling the story today, the oral history is completely appropriate and not simply the fashionable thing to do.
This really turns the American version of DIY on its head. In New York there were countless stories of art school dropouts forming bands because they were bored. They didn't know how to play instruments but it hardly mattered -- in fact, it was almost a badge of honour -- and they would stumble into regular gigs without even trying But in East Berlin in the 80's, you had talented musicians who were heavily devoted to their craft who had to jump through a labyrinth of hoops just to get their instruments smuggled into the country, let alone find gigs. Building a fan base without getting the secret police on your case was a challenge, and you practically had to know somebody in the ruling communist party to sniff the inside of a recording studio. There's no doubt it was DIY, but it couldn't be more different from the oft-told American version.
Hopefully this and anthologies like Depeche Mode's Monument are just the tip of the iceberg.
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Kanye West, "Yeezus"; Nine Inch Nails, "Hesitation Marks"
"On Sight", the first track on "Yeezus", explodes out of the blocks with abrasive industrial noise that I never would have expected from on a Kanye West album. And that's taking into account his past and current collaborations with Daft Punk. This isn't like Darren Price producing a Madonna record in his own image, this is something funkier and meaner than anything Daft Punk would have conceived on their own. "On Sight" shocks you to attention and forces you to notice it from its first moments onward, which is something I haven't been able to say about a Nine Inch Nails record since "Broken".
And yet, despite the obvious nods and outright theft from industrial music (NIN included), "Yeezus" isn't the kind of album that makes you want to play a game of spot the influences. He's captured the mood of the genre, twisted it in new shapes, and forced it to conform to something resembling a Kanye West album. Sure, "I'm In It" makes me think of "Down In It" (especially the intro), but as a whole, I don't find myself wondering which Skinny Puppy album inspired a certain bassline or what have you. Techno producers have plenty to be jealous about here too. "I'm a God", with it's layers of echo, oddly processed guitar sounds, and stomach churning, cavernous bass, could be credited as a Dubfire track featuring Kanye West and nobody would doubt it for a moment. "Send It Up" brings back 80's industrial thudding and OTT rave sirens to contemporary music, and not a moment too soon. West's attempts at connecting industrial, EDM, and hip hop don't always fit together so smoothly, for instance, the bruising robofunk bridge on "Bound 2" seems unnecessary, a complete non sequiteur in the midst of a mellow 70's soul number. But for the most part, this is another startlingly creative home run for Kanye West.
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"With Teeth" is clearly the album that kicked open the door for the second act of Trent Reznor's career. "Hesitation Marks" probably could have been made at any time in the past ten years, there's nothing particularly contemporary about it and that's the entire point of it (i.e. it's the album where he returns to his late 80's/early 90's heyday, except older, wiser, and mellower). But if this album is released in 2003 then he's likely labeled as a 90's burnout trying to hang on and stay relevant. Instead, Reznor disappeared for a long time following "The Fragile", returned with an armful of stories about how he'd been to the brink and lived to tell about it (who can resist that narrative in music?), and an album that sounded nothing like his earlier work. It was different enough not to draw too many comparisons to anything on "The Downward Spiral", but still recognizable as a NIN album. Gone was the pressure of having to make each record more shocking and more extreme than the one before it, and so much of "With Teeth" and its more rock-influenced tracks fit in well with alternative radio of the time, without rocking the boat too much. He was now a Reliable Artist -- no longer representing the vanguard of new music, but someone who could be counted on for a decent slate of songs and an energetic tour every few years. And for artists who sold millions in the sales inflated 90's, that's a recipe for doing healthy arena tours from now until retirement age.
The success of "With Teeth" also left room for Reznor to escape his 90's image, an image that easily could have been turned into a caricature like with so many 80's hair metal bands. It left him free to do what he wanted without feeling pressed to make a Nine Inch Nails (TM) album each time out. Not five years later, this former junkie and 90's relic, best known in mainstream circles for singing "I want to fuck you like an animal" in heavy rotation on MTV (bleeped during the daytime of course) and performing at Woodstock '94, was a respected Oscar winning soundtrack composer. It boggles the mind just thinking about it.
I do play a lot of spot the influences when I listen to "Hesitation Marks". "Copy of A" sounds like the new "Sin", although a better comparison might be the style of electronic blues that Depeche Mode have been doing (and doing better that Reznor) on their last two albums. "Find My Way" contains elements of "Something I Can Never Have", ditto "Running" and "Ringfinger". In many ways it's a very safe album for Reznor to make, although I can't fault his timing in wanting to get back to writing the kinds of songs he does best and recalling his glory years a bit. Parts of "Hesistation Marks" are great, but mostly it's just reliably good NIN music, and honestly, that's enough.
And yet, despite the obvious nods and outright theft from industrial music (NIN included), "Yeezus" isn't the kind of album that makes you want to play a game of spot the influences. He's captured the mood of the genre, twisted it in new shapes, and forced it to conform to something resembling a Kanye West album. Sure, "I'm In It" makes me think of "Down In It" (especially the intro), but as a whole, I don't find myself wondering which Skinny Puppy album inspired a certain bassline or what have you. Techno producers have plenty to be jealous about here too. "I'm a God", with it's layers of echo, oddly processed guitar sounds, and stomach churning, cavernous bass, could be credited as a Dubfire track featuring Kanye West and nobody would doubt it for a moment. "Send It Up" brings back 80's industrial thudding and OTT rave sirens to contemporary music, and not a moment too soon. West's attempts at connecting industrial, EDM, and hip hop don't always fit together so smoothly, for instance, the bruising robofunk bridge on "Bound 2" seems unnecessary, a complete non sequiteur in the midst of a mellow 70's soul number. But for the most part, this is another startlingly creative home run for Kanye West.
-----------------------
"With Teeth" is clearly the album that kicked open the door for the second act of Trent Reznor's career. "Hesitation Marks" probably could have been made at any time in the past ten years, there's nothing particularly contemporary about it and that's the entire point of it (i.e. it's the album where he returns to his late 80's/early 90's heyday, except older, wiser, and mellower). But if this album is released in 2003 then he's likely labeled as a 90's burnout trying to hang on and stay relevant. Instead, Reznor disappeared for a long time following "The Fragile", returned with an armful of stories about how he'd been to the brink and lived to tell about it (who can resist that narrative in music?), and an album that sounded nothing like his earlier work. It was different enough not to draw too many comparisons to anything on "The Downward Spiral", but still recognizable as a NIN album. Gone was the pressure of having to make each record more shocking and more extreme than the one before it, and so much of "With Teeth" and its more rock-influenced tracks fit in well with alternative radio of the time, without rocking the boat too much. He was now a Reliable Artist -- no longer representing the vanguard of new music, but someone who could be counted on for a decent slate of songs and an energetic tour every few years. And for artists who sold millions in the sales inflated 90's, that's a recipe for doing healthy arena tours from now until retirement age.
The success of "With Teeth" also left room for Reznor to escape his 90's image, an image that easily could have been turned into a caricature like with so many 80's hair metal bands. It left him free to do what he wanted without feeling pressed to make a Nine Inch Nails (TM) album each time out. Not five years later, this former junkie and 90's relic, best known in mainstream circles for singing "I want to fuck you like an animal" in heavy rotation on MTV (bleeped during the daytime of course) and performing at Woodstock '94, was a respected Oscar winning soundtrack composer. It boggles the mind just thinking about it.
I do play a lot of spot the influences when I listen to "Hesitation Marks". "Copy of A" sounds like the new "Sin", although a better comparison might be the style of electronic blues that Depeche Mode have been doing (and doing better that Reznor) on their last two albums. "Find My Way" contains elements of "Something I Can Never Have", ditto "Running" and "Ringfinger". In many ways it's a very safe album for Reznor to make, although I can't fault his timing in wanting to get back to writing the kinds of songs he does best and recalling his glory years a bit. Parts of "Hesistation Marks" are great, but mostly it's just reliably good NIN music, and honestly, that's enough.
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Beautiful pictures of the week -- the DJ Diner and record stores to die for
A couple of gems courtesy of the RA news feed ...
DJ Diner episode 6 featuring Ruede Hagelstein and his shnitzel recipe. Why was the "DJ's and their living rooms" photo series such a hit a few years ago? As much as people try to pretend that the club scene is all about the music, or all about setting a mood in the club, or the interaction between DJ and audience in the club, or about the DJ showcasing his or her personality using only music, we all want to peek behind the curtain at some point. It's precisely because DJ's usually are, or were so reclusive (or altogether faceless) that we'd jump at the chance to be a fly on the wall and learn more about them, for example, by sneaking into their houses and photographing their living rooms when they weren't at home. Or at least that's what it feels like to browse through those pictures. Of course you can learn a lot about someone just by seeing how they live -- who's unexpectedly a slob, who's the most tech savvy, who has the rig or music collection you'd give your right arm to have.
That was seven years ago, before the widespead use of social media and before podcasts accompanied by extended interviews with DJ's became commonplace. Reclusiveness is fading into the past and openness is the new, expected norm. The EDM explosion has probably contributed to the willingness of DJ's to advertise their personalities a bit more, although perhaps many of them would not want to admit this. Resentment toward "superstar DJ's" of the 90's like Sasha and Sven Vath is still reasonably fresh -- in the not so recent past, the backlash was fierce and destructive if a DJ got too big. But the mainstream attention given to the club culture of cities like Berlin is likely a huge factor too. Clubbing is no longer the exclusive domain of select individuals who are in the know, worldwide, it's probably never been as socially acceptable to be a club kid or a DJ than right now.
So what's the next logical step in the "DJ as pop star" series? Maybe it's DJ's sharing home cooking recipes while playing your tracks in the background. I mean sure, why not? I love shnitzel and Ruede Hagelstein's tracks are exactly the kind of stuff I like to play while I'm in the kitchen too.
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Just when you thought you couldn't take any more stories about record store or concert club closures, an article such as this one pops up -- 27 breathtaking record stores you need to shop at before you die. I've only been to five of them (1, 3, 5, 6, 26) and they are all worth the plane fare to get there with the exception of the last one. Seriously, is there anything better in music photography than pictures of beautiful record stores or of a person's sprawling music collection?
DJ Diner episode 6 featuring Ruede Hagelstein and his shnitzel recipe. Why was the "DJ's and their living rooms" photo series such a hit a few years ago? As much as people try to pretend that the club scene is all about the music, or all about setting a mood in the club, or the interaction between DJ and audience in the club, or about the DJ showcasing his or her personality using only music, we all want to peek behind the curtain at some point. It's precisely because DJ's usually are, or were so reclusive (or altogether faceless) that we'd jump at the chance to be a fly on the wall and learn more about them, for example, by sneaking into their houses and photographing their living rooms when they weren't at home. Or at least that's what it feels like to browse through those pictures. Of course you can learn a lot about someone just by seeing how they live -- who's unexpectedly a slob, who's the most tech savvy, who has the rig or music collection you'd give your right arm to have.
That was seven years ago, before the widespead use of social media and before podcasts accompanied by extended interviews with DJ's became commonplace. Reclusiveness is fading into the past and openness is the new, expected norm. The EDM explosion has probably contributed to the willingness of DJ's to advertise their personalities a bit more, although perhaps many of them would not want to admit this. Resentment toward "superstar DJ's" of the 90's like Sasha and Sven Vath is still reasonably fresh -- in the not so recent past, the backlash was fierce and destructive if a DJ got too big. But the mainstream attention given to the club culture of cities like Berlin is likely a huge factor too. Clubbing is no longer the exclusive domain of select individuals who are in the know, worldwide, it's probably never been as socially acceptable to be a club kid or a DJ than right now.
So what's the next logical step in the "DJ as pop star" series? Maybe it's DJ's sharing home cooking recipes while playing your tracks in the background. I mean sure, why not? I love shnitzel and Ruede Hagelstein's tracks are exactly the kind of stuff I like to play while I'm in the kitchen too.
--------------------------
Just when you thought you couldn't take any more stories about record store or concert club closures, an article such as this one pops up -- 27 breathtaking record stores you need to shop at before you die. I've only been to five of them (1, 3, 5, 6, 26) and they are all worth the plane fare to get there with the exception of the last one. Seriously, is there anything better in music photography than pictures of beautiful record stores or of a person's sprawling music collection?
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Two more oral histories
Oral histories -- they're everywhere now! I singled out these two mainly because of the one interesting factoid in each that sort of blew my mind.
First, an oral history of Maxwell's in Hoboken, NJ.
The good: Makes you feel as though you were actually there.
The bad: An incomplete, all too brief history, they skipped the middle of the story and presented just the beginning and the end. It seems they could have elaborated more on what they had -- how many more gold nuggets like the Korn story are left to be told?
The factoid: Bruce Springsteen filmed the video for "Glory Days" at Maxwell's! I had no idea, but it makes perfect sense. Go Bruce.
Second, an oral history of "Be My Baby" on its 50th anniversary.
The good: Not a whole lot. A lot of the key figures in the story have passed away (or are in prison), so perhaps we should be thankful to get any stories at all. It's a little sad to present an oral history with only three interviewees, one of whom had no connection to the original recording. Maybe that's the best thing to come out of this -- I listened to Eddie Money's "Take Me Home Tonight" about five times in succession after reading this. Great tune, awesome chorus, and I hadn't realized it was his biggest hit. So there's that.
The bad: The article revealed absolutely nothing that we didn't already know. I've thumbed through Hal Blaine's autobiography and this interview was just more of the same, in short, how can he be so dispassionate about everything he's done in his career? He's played on literally hundreds of legendary rock songs, but to hear him talk about it, everything was just a gig, they did the jobs they were hired to do, the Wrecking Crew were pros, etc.
The factoid: The "By My Baby" beat is the same rhythm as that on Sinatra's "Strangers in the Night" (which Blaine also played on)! It's sped up and played with more emphasis, but it's the same! I couldn't believe my ears -- this is up there with the "More Than a Feeling"/"Smells Like Teen Spirit" riff stealing that nobody notices or even suspects until it's pointed out to you.
First, an oral history of Maxwell's in Hoboken, NJ.
The good: Makes you feel as though you were actually there.
The bad: An incomplete, all too brief history, they skipped the middle of the story and presented just the beginning and the end. It seems they could have elaborated more on what they had -- how many more gold nuggets like the Korn story are left to be told?
The factoid: Bruce Springsteen filmed the video for "Glory Days" at Maxwell's! I had no idea, but it makes perfect sense. Go Bruce.
Second, an oral history of "Be My Baby" on its 50th anniversary.
The good: Not a whole lot. A lot of the key figures in the story have passed away (or are in prison), so perhaps we should be thankful to get any stories at all. It's a little sad to present an oral history with only three interviewees, one of whom had no connection to the original recording. Maybe that's the best thing to come out of this -- I listened to Eddie Money's "Take Me Home Tonight" about five times in succession after reading this. Great tune, awesome chorus, and I hadn't realized it was his biggest hit. So there's that.
The bad: The article revealed absolutely nothing that we didn't already know. I've thumbed through Hal Blaine's autobiography and this interview was just more of the same, in short, how can he be so dispassionate about everything he's done in his career? He's played on literally hundreds of legendary rock songs, but to hear him talk about it, everything was just a gig, they did the jobs they were hired to do, the Wrecking Crew were pros, etc.
The factoid: The "By My Baby" beat is the same rhythm as that on Sinatra's "Strangers in the Night" (which Blaine also played on)! It's sped up and played with more emphasis, but it's the same! I couldn't believe my ears -- this is up there with the "More Than a Feeling"/"Smells Like Teen Spirit" riff stealing that nobody notices or even suspects until it's pointed out to you.
Sunday, August 18, 2013
Shlomo Artzi, Ashdod Amphitheatre (15/08/2013)
Shlomo Artzi tok to the stage flanked by a tightly rehearsed nine piece band.
I'm fairly new to the experience of seeing stadium sized concerts by sixty something rockers, which means, fairly or unfairly (probably the latter), my first thought is to generalize and find a way to lump them all together. The plot certainly seems familiar, as an example, consider Leonard Cohen's hugely successful world tour. An aging music star wants to assemble a stage show that will be worthy of the ambitious arena and stadium tour he has planned. He puts together an impressively sized band, complete with brass, strings, and other odd instrumentation as he sees fit. He hires attractive background singers and musicians to inject some youthful energy into the proceedings, because nobody wants to buy tickets to see a traveling circus of senior citizens. The staging and lighting are reserved, tasteful, and not too complicated, because huge LED screens and flashy graphics would look like a ploy for trying to appear younger and more contemporary. All in all, the show is clearly centred around him and higlights him as the star, while at the same time not requiring him to do all that much. He plays and sings at all the key moments but knows when to step aside and leave his capable musicians and singers to their extended solos, intros, and filler parts in order to fill out the whole of a two plus hours long concert. This isn't meant to be a putdown of Leonard Cohen (I didn't get to see him in concert but heard recordings and saw many video clips of his last tour, which was more than deserving of the praise it received) or anyone else. Concerts and tours are long and exhausting, and performers of any age or experience should be taking all steps to show off their strengths while simultaneously hiding their weaknesses.
Most of this is also true of Shlomo Artzi. Except that nobody told him that he's supposed to step aside and lets his backing band do the yeoman's share of the work. From the first minute to the last of this nearly two and a half hour concert, Artzi was in total command of the stage. His still strong voice dominated nearly every moment that of the show, and his remarkable energy is what drove his band, not the other way around. His tireless work ethic was the key difference between a near pantheon level show and just another greatest hits set by a guy who could live comfortably off playing greatest hits sets for as long as he wants.
It's partly because the people with him on stage are more than just capable hired hands. It's more of a family affair, with his son Ben, his drummer of more than 25 years, and a pair of brass-playing brothers. But can you show me another 63-year old performer who can sing a nonstop train of lyrically complex hits for over two hours (there was a teleprompter but he barely glanced at it), dance with audience members, act as the joke telling emcee, and generally entertain a mixed crowd of literally all ages (everyone from teenagers to their grandparents were there) while doing so? I'm not sure I've ever seen an artist connect with his audience as well as Shlomo Artzi connected with the crowd in Ashdod. The connection was almost telepathic, people stood when he wanted, sat when he wanted, danced when he wanted, sang along when he wanted, and while some of that can be chalked up to setlist pacing and song selection, you mostly have to chalk it up to Artzi's incredible charisma as a performer.
I'm fairly new to the experience of seeing stadium sized concerts by sixty something rockers, which means, fairly or unfairly (probably the latter), my first thought is to generalize and find a way to lump them all together. The plot certainly seems familiar, as an example, consider Leonard Cohen's hugely successful world tour. An aging music star wants to assemble a stage show that will be worthy of the ambitious arena and stadium tour he has planned. He puts together an impressively sized band, complete with brass, strings, and other odd instrumentation as he sees fit. He hires attractive background singers and musicians to inject some youthful energy into the proceedings, because nobody wants to buy tickets to see a traveling circus of senior citizens. The staging and lighting are reserved, tasteful, and not too complicated, because huge LED screens and flashy graphics would look like a ploy for trying to appear younger and more contemporary. All in all, the show is clearly centred around him and higlights him as the star, while at the same time not requiring him to do all that much. He plays and sings at all the key moments but knows when to step aside and leave his capable musicians and singers to their extended solos, intros, and filler parts in order to fill out the whole of a two plus hours long concert. This isn't meant to be a putdown of Leonard Cohen (I didn't get to see him in concert but heard recordings and saw many video clips of his last tour, which was more than deserving of the praise it received) or anyone else. Concerts and tours are long and exhausting, and performers of any age or experience should be taking all steps to show off their strengths while simultaneously hiding their weaknesses.
Most of this is also true of Shlomo Artzi. Except that nobody told him that he's supposed to step aside and lets his backing band do the yeoman's share of the work. From the first minute to the last of this nearly two and a half hour concert, Artzi was in total command of the stage. His still strong voice dominated nearly every moment that of the show, and his remarkable energy is what drove his band, not the other way around. His tireless work ethic was the key difference between a near pantheon level show and just another greatest hits set by a guy who could live comfortably off playing greatest hits sets for as long as he wants.
It's partly because the people with him on stage are more than just capable hired hands. It's more of a family affair, with his son Ben, his drummer of more than 25 years, and a pair of brass-playing brothers. But can you show me another 63-year old performer who can sing a nonstop train of lyrically complex hits for over two hours (there was a teleprompter but he barely glanced at it), dance with audience members, act as the joke telling emcee, and generally entertain a mixed crowd of literally all ages (everyone from teenagers to their grandparents were there) while doing so? I'm not sure I've ever seen an artist connect with his audience as well as Shlomo Artzi connected with the crowd in Ashdod. The connection was almost telepathic, people stood when he wanted, sat when he wanted, danced when he wanted, sang along when he wanted, and while some of that can be chalked up to setlist pacing and song selection, you mostly have to chalk it up to Artzi's incredible charisma as a performer.
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Hey granddad, EDM is huge in vegas
Yeah, I didn't see this article coming.
Of course I knew about EDM taking off and the incredible success of Skrillex et. al. and the re-re-re-rise of the superstar DJ charging obscene fees for two hours of work. Naturally there's some crap being peddled in that article by the kinds of people you'd expect to be peddling it in the interests of making money, i.e. everyone who boasts about how there's no end in sight to the growth potential of the scene and whatnot. I seriously doubt that the EDM industry is worth $4.5B annually, because that's not much less business than what major North American sports leagues are doing every year. The article doesn't even clarify if that's supposed to be just in North America, or worldwide, or what kind of tickets/merch/other are included in that number. Does it include the total cost of a weekend in a major city centre if somebody travels there for festival or a party (probably)? The scene is undoubtedly big, but whether it's a 21st century rave fad or something more permanent isn't yet clear. That's implied in the article too. The merging of technology (state of the art animation, video screens, and lighting) with the excitement of electronic music has finally led to the EDM scene becoming more accessible to a wide spectrum of people. That's obvious to anyone with a passing interest in the scene as well, and it's a relief to finally move on from the "laptops and video screens: is it 'real' live music or not?" arguments.
What I didn't know before reading Andrea Domanick's report in SPIN is that the epicentre of EDM excess is VEGAS. I had no idea that Vegas could draw 200K people for an EDM festival. I didn't know that Vegas was making Celine Dion-sized investments in EDM clubs for partygoers.
I aged about five years reading this article. Hell, I still read "EDM" as "EBM" half of the time, and wonder how I managed to miss out on the Front 242 revival.
Of course I knew about EDM taking off and the incredible success of Skrillex et. al. and the re-re-re-rise of the superstar DJ charging obscene fees for two hours of work. Naturally there's some crap being peddled in that article by the kinds of people you'd expect to be peddling it in the interests of making money, i.e. everyone who boasts about how there's no end in sight to the growth potential of the scene and whatnot. I seriously doubt that the EDM industry is worth $4.5B annually, because that's not much less business than what major North American sports leagues are doing every year. The article doesn't even clarify if that's supposed to be just in North America, or worldwide, or what kind of tickets/merch/other are included in that number. Does it include the total cost of a weekend in a major city centre if somebody travels there for festival or a party (probably)? The scene is undoubtedly big, but whether it's a 21st century rave fad or something more permanent isn't yet clear. That's implied in the article too. The merging of technology (state of the art animation, video screens, and lighting) with the excitement of electronic music has finally led to the EDM scene becoming more accessible to a wide spectrum of people. That's obvious to anyone with a passing interest in the scene as well, and it's a relief to finally move on from the "laptops and video screens: is it 'real' live music or not?" arguments.
What I didn't know before reading Andrea Domanick's report in SPIN is that the epicentre of EDM excess is VEGAS. I had no idea that Vegas could draw 200K people for an EDM festival. I didn't know that Vegas was making Celine Dion-sized investments in EDM clubs for partygoers.
I aged about five years reading this article. Hell, I still read "EDM" as "EBM" half of the time, and wonder how I managed to miss out on the Front 242 revival.
Friday, July 26, 2013
Daft Punk, "Random Access Memories"; The National, "Trouble Will Find Me"
Maybe Daft Punk will start releasing new albums more than once every eight years and eventually build up a real catalog. Regardless of how long it takes, eventually they will build up a deeper and more varied catalog and it will become increasingly harder for people to keep putting their first two wildly overrated albums on their undeserved pedestals. They would disappear for years at a time and their fans dissected their only two albums without end on countless message boards and blogs, entrenching the Daft Punk canon into a feedback loop that it hasn't been able to escape to this day because there hasn't been enough new material to freshen up the discussion.
The best two Daft Punk albums are the most recent two. This shouldn't even be a debate. The first two are radio friendly techno pop made by anonymous robots. It's been done to death. Then you have "Human After All", a coarse and brutal slab of minimal dance funk, recorded cheaply and absurdly quickly, packed with loops and shrill squawks, and a supporting tour that literally revolutionized the industry and helped pave the way for EDM's commercial breakthrough in the US. And now we have "Random Access Memories", a full on disco revival album right down to the live instrumentation and collaborations with a impressive list of disco pioneers and contemporary vocalists. "Get Lucky" is far and away their finest ever single and in twenty years people will talking about how Daft Punk finally had the breakthrough anthemic disco megahit that their hardcore fans had always wanted them to have. They won't be talking about how they always get a tear in their eye when they hear "Digital Love".
------------------------------
Every year I seem to get way into a new album by a much admired indie rock band that I'd never paid any attention to in the past (see: YYY's, Beach House). I can't really explain why this has been happening, any more than I can explain exactly what touched a nerve inside me that morning when I heard a song from "Trouble Will Find Me" on the radio one morning and decided to give the whole album a chance. Maybe it's related to those 2000-1 years when I got really into Travis for a while, which I attributed to an unconscious backlash against all the wordless techno and "difficult" experimental music I was listening to. Sometimes you need a break from that stuff and need to listen to simpler, gentler rock songs that you can sing along to.
The National chose that name because it sounds anonymous and nondescript. Like their name, "Trouble Will Find Me" is difficult to pin down or define. In a way this could be any one of a million mopey indie bands. Their obvious influences (Nick Cave, Joy Division, Leonard Cohen) have influenced so many bands that the comparisons don't really help to describe what they sound like. I could add a couple of more, but I'm not sure it helps.
1) Smashing Pumpkins ballads from "Mellon Collie ..." and "Adore". In particular, "I Need My Girl" would have been at home on "Adore", and the whole album kind of gives me a "thirteen more fully fleshed out versions of 'Blank Page'" vibe.
2) Drunken Arab Strap ballads, especially "Pink Rabbits". Like the best of Arab Strap, "Trouble Will Fine Me" is melancholy, but not particularly sad, you can wallow in it but it doesn't really bring you down. It's not like the best Smiths lyrics, where almost anyone who was once a teenage can relate, rather, it's something you observe from afar, ultimately feeling uplifted and thankful that these things aren't happening to you. Lines like "You didn't see me I was falling apart/I was a television version of a person with a broken heart" are devastating though.
The best two Daft Punk albums are the most recent two. This shouldn't even be a debate. The first two are radio friendly techno pop made by anonymous robots. It's been done to death. Then you have "Human After All", a coarse and brutal slab of minimal dance funk, recorded cheaply and absurdly quickly, packed with loops and shrill squawks, and a supporting tour that literally revolutionized the industry and helped pave the way for EDM's commercial breakthrough in the US. And now we have "Random Access Memories", a full on disco revival album right down to the live instrumentation and collaborations with a impressive list of disco pioneers and contemporary vocalists. "Get Lucky" is far and away their finest ever single and in twenty years people will talking about how Daft Punk finally had the breakthrough anthemic disco megahit that their hardcore fans had always wanted them to have. They won't be talking about how they always get a tear in their eye when they hear "Digital Love".
------------------------------
Every year I seem to get way into a new album by a much admired indie rock band that I'd never paid any attention to in the past (see: YYY's, Beach House). I can't really explain why this has been happening, any more than I can explain exactly what touched a nerve inside me that morning when I heard a song from "Trouble Will Find Me" on the radio one morning and decided to give the whole album a chance. Maybe it's related to those 2000-1 years when I got really into Travis for a while, which I attributed to an unconscious backlash against all the wordless techno and "difficult" experimental music I was listening to. Sometimes you need a break from that stuff and need to listen to simpler, gentler rock songs that you can sing along to.
The National chose that name because it sounds anonymous and nondescript. Like their name, "Trouble Will Find Me" is difficult to pin down or define. In a way this could be any one of a million mopey indie bands. Their obvious influences (Nick Cave, Joy Division, Leonard Cohen) have influenced so many bands that the comparisons don't really help to describe what they sound like. I could add a couple of more, but I'm not sure it helps.
1) Smashing Pumpkins ballads from "Mellon Collie ..." and "Adore". In particular, "I Need My Girl" would have been at home on "Adore", and the whole album kind of gives me a "thirteen more fully fleshed out versions of 'Blank Page'" vibe.
2) Drunken Arab Strap ballads, especially "Pink Rabbits". Like the best of Arab Strap, "Trouble Will Fine Me" is melancholy, but not particularly sad, you can wallow in it but it doesn't really bring you down. It's not like the best Smiths lyrics, where almost anyone who was once a teenage can relate, rather, it's something you observe from afar, ultimately feeling uplifted and thankful that these things aren't happening to you. Lines like "You didn't see me I was falling apart/I was a television version of a person with a broken heart" are devastating though.
Saturday, July 20, 2013
Rolling Stones at Glastonbury
Somehow, while I was doing a bunch of traveling over the past few weeks and remained out of the loop on a lot of music news, the Rolling Stones played what might go down as the gig of the year in their headlining appearance at Glastonbury.
It's 2013~!
But this is nothing new for the Stones, who have been the poster boys for rock ageism for the past forty years.
The idea of a band playing rock and roll into their mid-30's was considered preposterous during the 1960's. The Stones released all their best albums in the 70's and traveled the world on their most famously debauched tours.
The idea of a rock band touring well into their mid-40's was widely ridiculed during the late 80's. When the Stones made something of a comeback with the "Steel Wheels" album and tour, popular sentiment assumed they'd be a parody of themselves onstage while cynically hauling in truckloads of money. Instead, they experienced a career rebirth of sorts. Critics and fans were surprised by their energy and stage presence. Their new albums would remain redundant in this phase of their career, but it hardly mattered because the "Steel Wheels" tour solidified them as a major touring act for the next two decades (and counting).
All the subsequent milestones/excuses to go on tour have been met with skepticism (30th, 40th, 50th anniversary tours). Why not humour them and let them collect their last payday, after all, there are always people who never saw them before or will pay to see them for the 100th time. Except that last payday has never arrived, because they won't stop touring. They even seem to enjoy it!
What's more, a lot of people from my generation were brought up on the idea of Glastonbury being a place where indie bands broke through to a wider audience, where we, the fans who'd been supporting them for years, could feel vindicated when they became the stars we'd always hoped they'd be. But those days, where the likes of Pulp, Radiohead, and Orbital were breakthrough headliners, are long gone. Glastonbury is the place where the world's biggest bands choose to appear when they want to make a long awaited festival appearance, and it's been that way for many years now. A memorable show at Glastonbury becomes instantly legendary and carries more lasting impact than any tour, no matter how big. Blur's reunion gig from 2009 actually seems like small potatoes next to the likes of Jay-Z and U2. Rolling Stones '13 is a fairly logical extension of the last few years of increasingly fevered anticipation over headlining spots by increasingly legendary bands.
And yeah, I watched the Stones' Glastonbury set (or at least the last hour or so that was broadcast by the BBC) and it's crazy good, or, if you're basing the comparison on a different scale, about a billion times better than it had any right to be. Mick Jagger must be a space alien because it can't be possible that a human being could live Mick Jagger's life and still have the same physique at 70 that he did at 20 (and his voice isn't too far off either). And how many men of any age can still look cool wearing black feathered boas and gold lamé jackets?
It's 2013~!
But this is nothing new for the Stones, who have been the poster boys for rock ageism for the past forty years.
The idea of a band playing rock and roll into their mid-30's was considered preposterous during the 1960's. The Stones released all their best albums in the 70's and traveled the world on their most famously debauched tours.
The idea of a rock band touring well into their mid-40's was widely ridiculed during the late 80's. When the Stones made something of a comeback with the "Steel Wheels" album and tour, popular sentiment assumed they'd be a parody of themselves onstage while cynically hauling in truckloads of money. Instead, they experienced a career rebirth of sorts. Critics and fans were surprised by their energy and stage presence. Their new albums would remain redundant in this phase of their career, but it hardly mattered because the "Steel Wheels" tour solidified them as a major touring act for the next two decades (and counting).
All the subsequent milestones/excuses to go on tour have been met with skepticism (30th, 40th, 50th anniversary tours). Why not humour them and let them collect their last payday, after all, there are always people who never saw them before or will pay to see them for the 100th time. Except that last payday has never arrived, because they won't stop touring. They even seem to enjoy it!
What's more, a lot of people from my generation were brought up on the idea of Glastonbury being a place where indie bands broke through to a wider audience, where we, the fans who'd been supporting them for years, could feel vindicated when they became the stars we'd always hoped they'd be. But those days, where the likes of Pulp, Radiohead, and Orbital were breakthrough headliners, are long gone. Glastonbury is the place where the world's biggest bands choose to appear when they want to make a long awaited festival appearance, and it's been that way for many years now. A memorable show at Glastonbury becomes instantly legendary and carries more lasting impact than any tour, no matter how big. Blur's reunion gig from 2009 actually seems like small potatoes next to the likes of Jay-Z and U2. Rolling Stones '13 is a fairly logical extension of the last few years of increasingly fevered anticipation over headlining spots by increasingly legendary bands.
And yeah, I watched the Stones' Glastonbury set (or at least the last hour or so that was broadcast by the BBC) and it's crazy good, or, if you're basing the comparison on a different scale, about a billion times better than it had any right to be. Mick Jagger must be a space alien because it can't be possible that a human being could live Mick Jagger's life and still have the same physique at 70 that he did at 20 (and his voice isn't too far off either). And how many men of any age can still look cool wearing black feathered boas and gold lamé jackets?
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