Could anything in the world top the announcement that David Byrne and Brian Eno were at long last making another album together? Could anything top the announcement that Byrne was touring in support of the album, playing these new songs along with selections from the Byrne/Eno songbook? Could anything top the fact that the first stop on the tour was the Zoellner Center? Could anything top the amazing seats that we had? Can anything top last night's show? I think not.
The new album is really pretty good. It's currently only available for download here; a physical CD will be released November 25. I found the songs surprisingly melodic, at least in the live versions. I also found a somewhat surprising country influence to them, until I remembered Little Creatures, and then it made sense to me. The show itself was simply amazing. You can find the dates for the rest of the tour through the above link, and if you're a fan of Byrne's, or were a fan of Talking Heads, it's imperative that you attend.
I last saw Talking Heads in 1986, in another memorable show. That tour featured probably 20 musicians on stage - a horn section, full rhythm section, backup chorus, everything but the kitchen sink. This was more stripped down, but the sound was just as large. The stagecraft was simple: the lighting consisted of shifting primary colors against a backdrop, the costumes were simple white shirts and slacks, and in addition to the band the stage only contained three dancers. My happiness was probably in serivce to the fact that the Eno-produced albums are my favorites, and by limiting the playlist to selections from Talking Heads of that period Byrne performed my personal greatest hits.
The show features renditions of "Houses in Motion" and of "Crosseyed and Painless" perhaps better than the originals. If you're a fan of Remain In Light you must catch this tour, which also includes "Born Under Punches" and "Once In a Lifetime." Throw in "I Zimbra", "Heaven", and "Life During Wartime" from Fear of Music and you've got yourself one hell of a good time.
I only wish he would have figured out a way to preform more than one song from My Life in the Bush of Ghosts. I understand that the songs are built around vocal tracks that were sampled from random radio broadcasts and that the sound would be hard to reproduce live, but the version of "Help Me Somebody" that did make it into the show just left me wanting to hear more. This isn't a complaint, though. In fact, my only complaint was that I saw the show in a concert hall, where one had to dance standing in front of a seat. Seat dancing just doesn't do this music justice.
Showing posts with label heavy rotation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label heavy rotation. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
Happy Camper
The weather here went right from early spring to August-like, but I'm not complaining. I instead look at early warmth as the one good thing about global warming (well, that and the fact that New Jersey will be underwater, making my house beachfront property). For the past week, when I haven't been working or gardening, I've been lying on my porch reading Sheila Weller's Girls Like Us. Weller entwines the biographies of Joni Mitchell, Carole King, and Carly Simon, discussing their lives and music within the context of 60s and 70s sexual politics. At least that's what Weller believes her book is about. The music and the lives are in there, and some sexual politics as well, but I'd say about 70% of the book is just good gossip. Weller indefatigably chronicles each and every affair of all three women which, in Joni Mitchell's case in particular, turns out to be no small feat.
If you're interested in learning about these three lives, or about who slept with James Taylor when, then it's definitely a good summer read, perfect for a chaise lounge on a warm day. My main take-away from the book was that it brought back fond memories of Jew Camp.
What, you've never heard of Jew Camp? It's ostensibly a place where campers celebrate their Jewish heritage or some such thing but where the real lessons had to do with backrubs, boating, and learning how to turn up the collar of your Izod shirt. Just ask any Jewish person you know who grew up in the the NYC/Philly corridor and its environs and they'll tell you all about Jew Camp.
When Joni, Carole, and Carly were writing and recording their milestone albums I was busy listening to the Jackson 5, so I was a late convert to their music, but I have Jew Camp to thank for my introduction to the mellow. As a young teenager I spent time at one particular camp on youth group retreats - two weeks in the summer, one week in the winter. This camp had a radio station (from what I can gather all Jew Camps had radio stations, as well as newspapers and yearbooks - I guess they were teaching us how to control the media), and we'd get dressed mornings accompanied by James Taylor, Loggins and Messina, Carole King. During the downtime before dinner the older boys would give the older girls backrubs while "Loving You Is the Right Thing to Do" played softly in the background. After dinner guitars would be broken out and everyone would join in a rendition of "Been to Canaan." The first rule of Jew Camp was that there was no hard rock at Jew Camp.
I'm not talking about the early 70s here. During the time I'm talking about, that music was already something of the past. When I bought Tapestry in 1978 it appealed to me not just because the songs were soulful but also because it sounded to me then, as it does to this day, like an artifact from a hippie past, from a recent time that was already gone. Thanks to Jew Camp I learned to love the singer-songwriters, but in the rest of my life I was learning to love a different kind of music. In 1978 I'd listen to Tapestry in my yellow bedroom, followed by some Fleetwood Mac, finished off with Horses, in a sense inadvertently charting the course of women in rock through the 70s with one evening of music.
By my last couple of years in high school I'd moved on completely, not only from Jew Camp and backrubs but also from songs you couldn't dance to, if by "dance" you mean throw your body around a room as violently as possible. I've now moved on from that as well, and from the yellow bedroom and my Sony turntable, but I have Weller's book to thank for taking me back, temporarily, to all of it.
If you're interested in learning about these three lives, or about who slept with James Taylor when, then it's definitely a good summer read, perfect for a chaise lounge on a warm day. My main take-away from the book was that it brought back fond memories of Jew Camp.
What, you've never heard of Jew Camp? It's ostensibly a place where campers celebrate their Jewish heritage or some such thing but where the real lessons had to do with backrubs, boating, and learning how to turn up the collar of your Izod shirt. Just ask any Jewish person you know who grew up in the the NYC/Philly corridor and its environs and they'll tell you all about Jew Camp.
When Joni, Carole, and Carly were writing and recording their milestone albums I was busy listening to the Jackson 5, so I was a late convert to their music, but I have Jew Camp to thank for my introduction to the mellow. As a young teenager I spent time at one particular camp on youth group retreats - two weeks in the summer, one week in the winter. This camp had a radio station (from what I can gather all Jew Camps had radio stations, as well as newspapers and yearbooks - I guess they were teaching us how to control the media), and we'd get dressed mornings accompanied by James Taylor, Loggins and Messina, Carole King. During the downtime before dinner the older boys would give the older girls backrubs while "Loving You Is the Right Thing to Do" played softly in the background. After dinner guitars would be broken out and everyone would join in a rendition of "Been to Canaan." The first rule of Jew Camp was that there was no hard rock at Jew Camp.
I'm not talking about the early 70s here. During the time I'm talking about, that music was already something of the past. When I bought Tapestry in 1978 it appealed to me not just because the songs were soulful but also because it sounded to me then, as it does to this day, like an artifact from a hippie past, from a recent time that was already gone. Thanks to Jew Camp I learned to love the singer-songwriters, but in the rest of my life I was learning to love a different kind of music. In 1978 I'd listen to Tapestry in my yellow bedroom, followed by some Fleetwood Mac, finished off with Horses, in a sense inadvertently charting the course of women in rock through the 70s with one evening of music.
By my last couple of years in high school I'd moved on completely, not only from Jew Camp and backrubs but also from songs you couldn't dance to, if by "dance" you mean throw your body around a room as violently as possible. I've now moved on from that as well, and from the yellow bedroom and my Sony turntable, but I have Weller's book to thank for taking me back, temporarily, to all of it.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Distort Yourself
This week, I've got The Magnetic Fields' Distortion in heavy rotation. I've been a Stephin Merritt fan since 69 Love Songs, and I thought I was one of the best releases of 2004, but it has taken me a while to get into this latest offering. Merritt hasn't been at all idle the past four years. He writes and records with four different "bands" (most of which consist of him playing all instruments, with an occasional guest in the studio), but this is the Merritt incarnation I enjoy the most.
What makes this album a departure for Merritt, and makes the title apt, is the presence of distortion. Merritt's usual pop melodies are here in abundance, but they are layered with ambient sound, feedback, overdubs, etc. The net effect is a sound that might have been recorded underwater, or in a paper bag, a palimpsest of noise accompanying Merritt's jaunty tunes. Which is not to say it's loud, or discordant, or atonal. The layering and the use of varying musical styles instead produces a sound that's contemporary yet timeless and impossible to place. Distortion contains within its melodies the past 45 years of pop history. The best way to describe it is if the Shangri-Las merged with the circa-Pet Sounds Beach Boys, became a punk band, spent a decade listening to Garbage, added a cellist and accordionist, and then recorded this album.
This connection to pop history is made overt in Merritt's twisted "California Girls," not a cover but a complete re-imagining. The song begins, "See them on their big bright screen/tan and blonde and seventeen/Eating nonfood keeps them mean/but they're young forever/If they must grow up/they marry dukes and earls/I hate California girls." And it goes on from there, hysterically. Sense of humor and of play is central to Merrit's lyrics. Who wouldn't like an album that features songs titled "Please Stop Dancing", "Too Drunk to Dream", or "Three-Way" (which contains only one lyric, the word "three-way" exclaimed at intervals)? And who wouldn't like an album where Daniel Handler, author of the Lemony Snicket novels and of The Basic Eight, plays the accordion?
If you aren't familiar with The Magnetic Fields, give them a try. If you are, then you're probably catching one of their shows this weekend at Town Hall, and maybe I'll see you there.
What makes this album a departure for Merritt, and makes the title apt, is the presence of distortion. Merritt's usual pop melodies are here in abundance, but they are layered with ambient sound, feedback, overdubs, etc. The net effect is a sound that might have been recorded underwater, or in a paper bag, a palimpsest of noise accompanying Merritt's jaunty tunes. Which is not to say it's loud, or discordant, or atonal. The layering and the use of varying musical styles instead produces a sound that's contemporary yet timeless and impossible to place. Distortion contains within its melodies the past 45 years of pop history. The best way to describe it is if the Shangri-Las merged with the circa-Pet Sounds Beach Boys, became a punk band, spent a decade listening to Garbage, added a cellist and accordionist, and then recorded this album.
This connection to pop history is made overt in Merritt's twisted "California Girls," not a cover but a complete re-imagining. The song begins, "See them on their big bright screen/tan and blonde and seventeen/Eating nonfood keeps them mean/but they're young forever/If they must grow up/they marry dukes and earls/I hate California girls." And it goes on from there, hysterically. Sense of humor and of play is central to Merrit's lyrics. Who wouldn't like an album that features songs titled "Please Stop Dancing", "Too Drunk to Dream", or "Three-Way" (which contains only one lyric, the word "three-way" exclaimed at intervals)? And who wouldn't like an album where Daniel Handler, author of the Lemony Snicket novels and of The Basic Eight, plays the accordion?
If you aren't familiar with The Magnetic Fields, give them a try. If you are, then you're probably catching one of their shows this weekend at Town Hall, and maybe I'll see you there.
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