A Rant Turned Tribute

I have a bone to pick.  I can't completely decide who it's with exactly, but contenders include Rolling Stone magazine, music critics in general, and the culture of popular music.

Perhaps you would like a bit of context.  Some of you may know by now that I am a bit of a list-o-phile.  Usually I like my lists to be specific enough to make sense, but open-ended enough to have to make tough decisions, such as the greatest ______ of a particular genre or time period.  But every once in a while I love to spend some time in the vast lists that Rolling Stone enjoys dropping.  Recently a coworker and I made a competition out of seeing whose iTunes library included more of their "500 Greatest Songs of All-Time".  (By the way, I won the competition, so this is not the response of a bitter loser).  The list was not nearly as sweeping as it claimed, completely ignoring anything before 1957 and barely entering our present decade or the one before it.  I won't even bother with that list here, but it did get me curious about their similarly titled list of albums, which I quickly found some issues with.

Out of 500 albums spanning from the 1950's to now, and across the genre spectrum from Country to Rap, Soul to Psychadelic Rock, those with female participation in bands or as solo artists make up 13%.  If I were to add only those by either solo female artists and bands with front women, it would be below 10% with 45 artists.  45!  out of 500!  See the whole thing HERE.

Now, I recognize that Rolling Stone magazine is about as sausage-festy as magazines get, but it is also one of the most well-respected publications in popular music, and is, at the moment, the driving force in writing our pop music history.  So, is it the fault of listeners and buyers of music that success is only given to male solo artists, or all-male bands?  Or, is it the fault of these panels of judges, who write articles and best-of lists, painting our perception of greatness with a brush of testosterone?  

And so I'd like to lead you on a scavenger hunt for great albums by female artists that seem to be missing from Rolling Stone's list.  Seeing as I have a tendency to specify lists in some way, we'll look at one genre at a time.  First of all, is there anything missing from the world of jazz and blues, music that has indeed paved the way for all modern pop music?  Miles Davis is there, John Coltrane is there, even Frank Sinatra showed up for the party!  Then, surely Ella will make an appearance, even if only alongside Louis Armstrong, and Billie Holiday should be expected at some point with a live recording or a best-of!  I dare you to try to find either of their names anywhere.  With the possible (but not justified) argument that Ella and Billie were not writing or producing their albums, an even more stark omission is Nina Simone, who wrote music for more than 40 albums in her lifetime, and continues to be constantly quoted, referenced, covered, and sampled all over the place in hiphop and pop.

Those are just the obvious, but in a list of 500 I might also expect to see Mahalia Jackson, one of the greatest gospel voices to hear on vinyl, or Bessie Smith the "Empress of Blues" who inspired all of the above, and who also inspired many blues artists (male and female) who did make the list.  I would also implore consideration of Alice Coltrane's Journey in Satchindananda, one of a few jazz records where the front woman is not a vocalist, but a pianist and harpist.  Still, it's possible that we know of her by the celebrity of her husband.  Newer women of jazz and blues could include Norah Jones, Cassandra Wilson, or Natalie Cole.

R&B/Soul is represented relatively well on this list by the likes of some expected (ie. Aretha, Dusty Springfield's Dusty in Memphis and Diana Ross & The Supremes) and some surprises (ie. TLC, Whitney Houston, and Mary J Blige).  I'm not going to lie, I loved the fact that Janet charts with both Rhthym Nation and Velvet Rope.  Many additions I would make would have more to do with a need for updating (the list was published in 2003), to include newer records such as Amy Winehouse's Back to Black, Janelle Monae's Archandroid, or nearly anything by Sharon Jones.  At this point I might even venture to suggest Beyonce's 4, but are you really surprised?  Still, others cannot be excused by time, because 3 years is certainly enough to recognize the force and beauty of Erykah Badu's Mama's Gun, which is nowhere to be found in the 500.  Not to mention the mature and smouldering Lover's Rock from british beauty, Sade, that came out the same year.  Others that I wouldn't mind seeing on the list might be Roberta Flack's First Take or legendary Killing Me Softly, Gladys Knight's Imagination, something from Jill Scott, or Tina Turner without the abusive Ike on Private Dancer.


I'm sure I could go on, but we'll take a break and move along to Country and Folk.  I don't have a lot to say about Country music in general, and when it comes to albums, the few female-made records I would expect are here: collections of Dolly Parton, Patsy Cline, and Lucinda Williams' Car Wheels on a Gravel Road.  I do however, notice a lack of certain folk singer-songwriters.  Joni Mitchell has some representation with Blue and Court and Spark, but I would add Hejira, For the Roses and maybe Clouds (If Randy Newman can chart with 3 albums, I think Joni Mitchell is entitled to at least one more).  The Joans (Baez and Armatrading) are both missing entirely along with two incredibly prolific poets, Ani DiFranco and Kate Bush.  They would have been well represented in my opinion by Not a Pretty Girl and Hounds of Love respectively, although they each have many additional album contenders.  Tori Amos' Little Earthquakes should probably be included, and maybe her Strange Little Girls as well.  As singer-songwriters go, Tori offers not only well-written individual songs, but album contexts that invite us to find relationship between the songs.

                                         

Moving on to the genre that Rolling Stone loves most: good old Rock 'n Roll.  This genre makes up an overwhelming majority of the list, and is littered with multiple albums of The Beatles (with 11), The Rolling Stones (with 10) and Bruce Springsteen and The Who (with 8 each).  I have no problem with classic rock - and I'll freely admit to having a lot of this music, either on vinyl or mp3 - but it becomes overkill when a list so clearly wants to promote one kind of album to greatness, without considering albums that are the products of imagination and a desire to move the culture of pop music in a new direction.  It also suggests to me a "golden age" of music (7 of the top 10 are from the 60's), that doesn't consider other influences and movements enough.

That being said, this rant is really only worth writing if it is true that there are indeed women making music as well as men.  So who can replace an extraneous 60's or 70's British rock band record?  I have a few suggestions.

Patti Smith finds herself in the top 50 (at #44) with Horses, but I would love to also see her more conceptually driven Easter, which fearlessly explores themes of the religious holiday, such as death and resurrection.  I was certainly expecting some of my favorite female rockers, especially Ann and Nancy Wilson of Heart with Dreamboat Annie.  "Crazy on You" was equally snubbed from RS's 500 Greatest Songs, in my opinion, so I suppose we shouldn't be shocked.  I found myself scanning for either Pat Benatar or Joan Jett, who may have done more with singles, but so did a lot of men on the list.  For some 90's representation, I would have thought Sheryl Crow's Tuesday Night Music Club could hold its own, having won Crow the first 3 of her 9 Grammys.


Annie Lennox shows up for the first and only time on the list at #500, and even then, only with the Eurythmics.  I'm not entirely sure what that's about, but wonder if the editors of Rolling Stone have heard album giants Diva and/or Medusa.  Medusa is full of great songs written by men, many of which they consider to be "all-time greats".  Perhaps they feel threatened that a woman does these tracks so thoughtfully and originally.

Another one-hit-wonder on the list is Bjork, whose accessible Post is at #373, but her brilliant electronic masterpiece, Homogenic is left out. Homogenic is considered by many to be the best of electronic music, yet can't even scrape into the top 500 albums of all time.  If this is not an offense to women, it is an offense to the genre.  As we've already moved into the world of pop, I can't help but wonder about Mariah.  In 2003, did we still love to hate her so much that we couldn't take seriously anything she did in the 90's?  If so, it's unfortunate.  Say what you want about Mariah, but she has a more impressive range than nearly anyone on the list, and although it's pop, she's writing her own material.  All the while in heels and a mini-skirt.  Broadway divas such as Barbara Streisand and Judy Garland are also ignored, although each has at least one album that has been recognized by a Grammy.

Finally, let's take a minute to talk about rap music.  I will admit, there are not enough women in rap in general.  However, there is only one woman recognized: Lauryn Hill at #312 with her Miseducation and #477 on The Fugee's The Score, so even though they chose the best, they keep her above 300.  I understand that there is not exactly a plethora of solo female rap artists putting out fantastic albums (and RS was probably patting themselves on the back for including any rap at all), but I seriously hoped for a bit of Missy Elliott, and crossed my fingers for a taste of Salt-n-Pepa.  If they revisit the list, I would be floored if they fail to include M.I.A.'s Kala.


This is by no means a comprehensive list of women in music, but I hope it at least it reminds us that women are making music, even if male-critics like those at Rolling Stone don't seem to recognize it.  In the mean time, check out some of the artists I've mentioned.  I made it easy to get started: all the pictures (and some of the words) link to performances on youtube.

Peace out,

Danice

The Score - The Fugees, 1996

As I continue to reflect on the past year, I love to remember great concerts.  I had the great privilege of seeing the magnificent Ms. Hill at the Commodore – it may no longer have bouncy floors, but it’s still my favorite Vancouver venue - last spring.  The best surprise of the night – after discovering it was her birthday and having the crowd burst into song for her – was L. Boogie’s presentation of material from The Score.  She did a total of 5 songs from the album and owned everything.  Regardless of whether verses were originally spat by Wyclef or Pras, she would authoritatively rap every bit of the song at nearly double speed.  The songs lost some of their groove this way – the familiar rap felt a little less melodic than I was used to - and yet it had a new kind of forceful power. 

Anyway, this is not a concert blog, but seeing Lauryn Hill in 2011 brought her work with Fugees back into my regular playlists over the past several months, and most recently I even made The Score my alarm CD to wake up to.  At Lauryn's show, I was reminded not only how deeply Miseducation shaped and spoke to my adolescent self, but how her role in the Fugees introduced me a world of socially conscious rap.  Not that I would have called it that in Jr. High, but even in 1996 I could tell The Score was different than Snoop’s Doggy Style.   

Suprisingly, it was never Lauryn alone that made The Fugees attractive to a 13 year old white girl from the burbs.  Wyclef Jean allows his sense of humor shine through even the most serious verse, giving a sense of playfulness in “Fu-Gee-La” especially.  Pras sounds like a man with a lot of anger, but is too stoned to do anything about it.  Together they made a loveable trio, who though clearly intelligent, never lost their ability to have a good time.  When I bought the album, I had only heard the two radio-played covers: “Killing Me Softly” and “No Woman No Cry”.  Although hearing Ms. Hill sing the Roberta Flack tune would alter whatever actions I had been in the middle of, it was Wyclef’s guitar and vocals on the Bob Marley cover that drew the money out of my pocket. 

At the time, I didn’t know much about these refugees (other than having loved Lauryn Hill's performance in Sister Act II), but soon the first half of the album would open up my understanding of what music could be.  “How Many Mics”, “Ready Or Not”, and “Zealots” quickly became my favorite 13ish minutes.  To this day, I love how the three MCs share the songs; No one gets more mic time than anyone else, even though there are admittedly “too many MC’s, not enough mics”.  References are thick and plenty, whether it’s to Marcus Garvey or Corey Hart, and rhymes are effortlessly smooth.  Choruses are crooned, and I momentarily forget that this isn’t a classic R&B album.  Momentarily until “Ready or Not” reminds us, which is home to my favorite Lauryn line ever: “So while you imitating Al Capone, I’ll be Nina Simone and defecating on your microphone.”  Ok, one of my favorites.  She’s got a lot (oh yeah).  ;)

It took me some time to appreciate “The Beast”, even though I loved to imitate the beastly-noises that Wyclef makes.  I don't think, at the time, that I picked up on the comic-feel of this song, even though it's constantly referencing super heroes and sci-fi characters. Now when I listen to this frustration rant against greed and corruption in government and policing.
  

Like Miseducation, most songs on The Score are punctuated by spoken scenes emphasizing the down-to-earth style of the Fugees.  "The Beast" is followed by possibly the oddest and funniest sketch, set in a Chinese restaurant that is "like burger king, have it your way".  

At a younger age, both “The Mask” and “Cowboys” always felt awkward to me.  “The Mask” is one of my favorites now because it is positively brilliant, showing off the Fugees ability to use extended metaphor.  Cowboys is also an example of this, although lacking in groove. “Cowboys” allows the three MCs to have some fun with the plethora of Western clichés and cowboy media references.  It’s a bringing together of Reggae and Country in a way that I can stomach, and on top of it, critiquing drug culture.  Fave line: “F*** the Sheriff, I shot John Wayne”.   LOVE it. 

Fu-Gee-Las (the original and the three remixes provided) never get old to me.  Sometimes I'll plan to skip one of the versions, but it’s hard – they’re each unique enough to require a listen.  Actually, I take that back.  Now that I’m listening through it all again, I know the Sly & Robbie mix the least.  I think I would tend to listen to the first Refugee Camp Remix and than skip ahead to “Mista Mista”, which is eerily beautiful.  When I was younger I thought it was a joke – every time Wyclef answers himself with “Hell No Mutha*****”, it would tickle my funnybone.  Now I hear it as a musical conversation that can be seen on a regular basis in my neighborhood, and the questions so many of us in any city have to ask ourselves: when do we help those we see in need, and what is helping?  Money?  Food?  A fix to forget? 

Finally, they end on a happy note, with the last Fu-Gee-La remix.  It's possible that 4 versions of the same song on a full length album is overkill, but at least it's a good, catchy song.  Or maybe we should just consider ourselves lucky that in The Score you received both an LP and a single.  Either way, it's not worth a complaint.  If you're not sick of it yet, you should probably watch this video.

Earlier I mentioned that all 3 Fugees share the microphone well.  Still, I can’t help but notice that Ms. Hill is already hitting the hardest.  And she gets away with some of the best words.  I mean, Poli-trick-cians?  And rhyming galaxy with phalaxy?  Awesome, right?  She is a phenomenon, and high on my list of hopes for 2012/beyond is a full comeback for this talented woman we grew to love, respect, and groove to.  Until then, I'll keep returning to The Score, far more than other rap albums from the mid-90's, most of which was about hating on MC peers, at the height of the East-West tensions (Tupac died later that year).  While the majority of the rap world was focused on destruction and self-promotion, The Fugees attempted to spit some positivity and call out the larger systems to blame, rather than simply slamming their own competition. And when they did address their peers in rap, they called them to maturity instead of violence.  Sounds like something worth listening to, both now and then.    

Undun - The Roots, 2011

I've been meaning to go back a little and give you reason to pull an older slightly-neglected album off the shelves again, but new music has been so good lately!  Undun is the record I can't get enough of right now, and I want to offer it up as an alternative to Kanye's My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy as an album that attempts to push rap music in a new direction.  The Roots, however, are able to do so far more narratively and positively on Undun, which focuses on a man - Redford Stevens - who dies at the beginning of the album, and everything we hear after that looks back to what led up to that particular moment.  And that's about as much pre-amble as I want to give you, because something tells me Undun is the kind of thing that we'll enjoy as we discover new things each time we listen.

The first thing I notice, before I even hit play, is the album art depicting a kid "flipping in the ghetto on a dirty mattress" as Lauryn Hill so eloquently describes.  Like any great rap album, Undun is full of reference, even in its few, but intentional visuals.  The first track, "Dun", builds (or fades out backwards-ly) sonically toward the first full song, "Sleep": stunning in its short and slow depiction of Redford looking on his own death through incredibly poetic rap.  Similarly, "Make My" is Redford's coming to terms with his near-approaching life's end.  This song is so beautiful, and strikes me as brutally honest in its ability to realistically capture someone's final song or word.  As conceptual as Undun is, I can't get over how catchy the music is throughout.  The Roots are relatively un-rivalled in the arena of instrumental hip-hop (heck, they created it), and prove they are still on top.  The bass line from "Make My"slips and slides around everywhere, and "One Time" is driven forward by percussive piano chords that, although with a low bpm, force physical movement out of its listener.

"Kool On" introduces a completely different beat with one of the slickest transitions I can remember - and it's just a fade in!  And let's face it, using an old-school vocal line as a rhythmic beat is so awesome right now, whether it's on Watch the Throne or not.  This and the next, "The OtherSide" is the closest track to a dance groove that you'll find on the album, but they are not really for dancing at all since they are gritty looks at a life of chasing drugs and money.  Greg Porn has some of the most direct and simple phrases, like "I'm on the edge of my bed making love to my meds".  

I keep thinking that the worst must be over; Redford is dead, so eventually we'll get to some happy memories, right?  On the contrary, it seems like his death is the most peaceful moment on the album, and "Stomp" definitely intensifies things, and gets the physicality of life, viscerally describing "blood sweat and tears, broken teeth and spit".  "Lighthouse" continues that theme as guest rapper Dice Raw asks us to "take a look at my lungs and my liver - it's disgusting".  Again, the rawness of the story is never abandoned in the midst of thoughtful and catchy hooks that can be played anywhere.  I have cooked and cleaned and just chilled out to this record, and it all works.  

"I Remember" suggests that Redford never really had a chance, drawing "a two from the deck" and continues to be fairly aware that death is not too far off.  "Tip the Scale" is the last track that gives us any lyrics, and I suppose it can be seen as the beginning of the end in multiple ways.  It reveals either a real or felt decision he is making between a friend's life and his own.  Knowing the end outcome gives this song even more dramatic weight.  And we are left to contemplate the short life of a thug over Sufjan Stevens' "Redford (for Yia Yia & Pappou)", and its 3 variations in the form of movements.  Each take a very different approach while holding a recognizable piece of Sufjan's original: "Possibility" is high and dream-like, "Will to Power" is is dark and jazzy, and ends with chaotic chordal clusters, and finally "Finality" feels much like a string quartet at a funeral, yet ends with a low hammer on the piano.  

Undun allowed us to peer into a common character's last bits of life, but Redford's stereotypical thug-like behaviour never distracted me from his humanity.  Nothing about this album felt like every other rap about money, drugs, sex, and death.  It was neither braggy nor preachy, yet honestly looked at nothing less than the meaning of life, and I'm left wanting to have another listen.  Don't mind if I do...  

4 - Beyonce, 2011

One of my favorite things to do around the new year is reflect on the finishing year by reading lists and making some of my own.  There are a number of artists that have shaped my 2011 with new and newly discovered albums - Bon Iver, Florence, Adele, Josh Garrels - but I've decided to talk about Beyonce's 4, because I doubt I will ever be inspired to write about any of her other albums, past or future.  And I cannot stop listening to it.

Who would have expected this?  A chock-full collection of hit after hit, that somehow sound even better together, from a woman who has built her career on singles and music videos.  Beyonce has never been what I've considered great at the art of album, but 4 is an incredibly happy exception.

"1+1" reintroduces Beyonce to us as a sexy balladess with clear control on her vocal range.  Before we dance, we are asked to remember that she is not only a beautiful, engaging performer, but a vocal contender as well.  "I Care" and "Miss You" are best paired together, both using 80's instrumentation to recall a classic pop-r&b fusion, and both wrestling with relationships either on their way out or regretfully finished.  Come to think of it, "Best Thing I Never Had" is a part of the series too - but adds some real Beyonce attitude.  Sure it's a pithy chorus, but Beyonce's never been hailed as a lyricist anyway, and it's a great song to sing at the top of your lungs in the car.  Try it sometime.

By now, we've remembered what Beyonce is capable of, but we're not sure if she's still really got the power to start the party.  By the time I listened to 4 in it's entirety I had already seen the video for the last track, "Run the World (Girls)", and was at best disappointed.  Was that going to be the strongest dance song on the album?  Certainly not.  And this is where the party begins, appropriately with "Party", which brings along with it Andre 3000 and Kanye, and a sample of La-Di-Da-Di.  It's a massive summer party track, but was unfortunately released a little too late to get the attention it deserves.

There's always one song I don't love, and on 4 it's "Rather Die Young", which feels inauthentic and silly, referencing a bad boy who is worth all the trouble.  Beyonce is getting too old for that, and I find "Start Over" to be far more believable as she searches to reignite a spark with a long-term partner.

"Love on Top" is a throwback to past divas such as Whitney of the 80's and even Diana of the 60's, as she once again shows what she can do, this time in 6 key changes.  It was the perfect song to let the world know of her anticipated Knowles-Carter child in this pop-historic VMAs performance.  You should probably watch it here if you haven't yet:

The party refuses to stop as Beyonce uses a counting down sample from Boyz II Men (good move B) to "Countdown" which is one of the most eclectic songs that doesn't sound scattered ever made in the r&b world.  The video is nearly perfect as it mirrors this collage of a song, with great dance moves and even greater outfits.  If you haven't seen it, you should probably watch it here:

THEN, "End of Time" comes on, with its massive horn shots and epic marching beat.  This for me is the highlight of the album.  By now I am sold on B, and all that is left to do is shake whatever your mother gave you, regardless of how it compares to what Beyonce received from her mother.

"I Was Here" slows everything down again with the track that will likely be played at Beyonce's funeral.  Written by legendary love song writer Diane Warren, it might be a little melodramatic for my taste, but every diva needs to plan ahead for a memorial or life-time achievement award.

The album ends with "Run the World", which actually has an incredible beat and similar energy levels to "End of Time", but falls flat when compared to other girl-power/feminist anthems like Destiny's Child's earlier "Independent Women".  The video has some amazing dancing, but it mostly frustrates me by what it could've been.  Still, considering this post has been video heavy, I might as well conclude one last performance that almost convinced me of this song:

When I think of 2011, I will undoubtedly think of Beyonce's 4.  What will you think of?

My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy - Kanye West, 2010

*Note: I wrote this blog draft back in November and forgot to finish/post it!  Better late than never...

I have been thinking about Kanye West quite a bit lately.  Perhaps because of my favorite November game - attempting to predict the Grammy nominations - and now that they have been announced, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy has become the most talked about album, not only because of the nominations it has received, but also those it has evaded (namely, Album of the Year).

What do I like about Kanye's Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy?  Well, to begin with, it's a great title.  The album not only embodies each descriptor, but holds them in tension with one another.  The fantasy often leaves us (and Kanye himself) wondering if he's bat-poop crazy, yet always in awe of the demented beauty in his stories and sounds.  And sights too, if we've watched "Runaway", the accompanying short film that makes use of all but 4 of MBDFT's songs.  

But for now, this is a post about the listening experience, and the album begins with Nicki Minaj quoting(ish) from Roald Dahl's "Revolting Rhymes", setting MBDTF up as one of those classic, twisted nursery rhymes that we routinely censor and disney-fy.  Not that I think we try to child-proof Kanye, but perhaps it's on this album where he most deeply attempts to come to terms with the person that he feels he truly is, with the person of his celebrity.  "Dark Fantasy" kicks off the album with an almost Moby-esque repeated line over piano chords, long before he funnels to the center of his psyche, peaking at "Monster" and then spirals back along a slightly different path, getting "Lost in the Woods" along the way, and finally wondering who can survive America - perhaps the source of his insanity.

Kanye can't help but offend most people at some point.  He certainly would like to. But I appreciate that the shock is rarely for shock value alone; He actually has some really great motivations. The song that is getting the most Grammy attention, "All of the Lights", is epically full of everything: guest appearances, horns, catchy hooks, and an anthemic sense of greatness.  At face value, the song is about Kanye walking in on his girlfriend cheating with someone else, and him wanting to reveal the truth with the brightest lights possible.  It may seem hypocritical if he weren't starkly honest with his own imperfections on tracks like "Runaway" and "The Blame Game". The whole album is really a call for turning on the lights - to quit hiding what we're not proud of.

I am finding it difficult to write about Kanye's Fantasy in a linear fashion, and I wonder if the songs simply aren't meant to interact with one another that way.  We are meant to think of "All of the Lights" during "Hell of Life", and we are meant to hear "Gorgeous" echoing in our mind when listening to "The Blame Game". Kanye has provided transitions with intentionality and artistry that is hard to beat - it seems he is following a true and free flow of his own thoughts.  The songs and themes feed into one another. Together the songs work at getting to the bottom of what makes Kanye West tick: they explore a mourning of his two greatest role models (his mother and MJ), his experience of celebrity, and his incredibly dysfunctional relationships with all female creatures; They bring some of the best and most eclectic artists in the business together, from Bon Iver to John Legend, to create something even better than Kanye could do by himself (GASP!?); They creatively combine all the things Kanye has done best on his previous 4 albums: the raw, catchy hooks of College Dropout and Late Registration, the dark and epic sense from Graduation, and the experimentation of 808's and Heartbreak.  And I know I could say that he has done all of these things more successfully together on My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy.

Let's rewind to some of the stand-out moments on the album.  Because it was leaked early, many of us heard "Power" before anything else, and while it sounds like a political question, there is something personal about it as well.  What is the power we have handed over to Kanye himself, or any one person for that matter, why do we do it, and does anyone deserve it?  Meanwhile, KWest is not about to let go of any he finds.  Even when he offers a confession of sorts in "Runaway", we know it is a backhanded apology, as it proves that none of us are actually ready to run away from him.  He knows he deserves to be dropped, but lets us know on an addictive beat and catchy hook.

Recently for my birthday I was given Blood Bank, The Bon Iver EP from which "Lost in the World" gets its foundation (the song "Woods").  I keep listening to this song, trying to imagine Kanye hearing it and thinking, "I can make that even better".  In its own right, it is hauntingly beautiful.  And although I know several haters (or Indie purists?) who will vehemently disagree with me on this, but there is something that Kanye really does add to this track.  He seems to have made it his own, and although very different from Bon Iver stylistically, both artists seem to deeply wrestle with and understand the concept of lost in a deep way.  For me, "Lost in the World" holds its own more than any other track on the album, and yet every song is given context within this bizarrely personal and introspective Kanye collection.  Whatever you think of this egotistically, self-proclaimed workaholic jerk-off, MBDTF is an honest look at a complicated man that at its best calls us to question our own motives and behaviour, and at its worst sounds good.  Sounds like a grammy-contender to me.

Lungs - Florence + The Machine, 2009

I have begun to write this particular blog so many times that finally an incentive occured to me.  Last night I went out and bought F+tM's new record, Ceremonials, and I am allowing myself to listen to it only once I've finally published this.  So you can be guaranteed what I'll be up to for the hour following this post.  I'm pretty stoked.

I think my problem has been that I have attempted to listen to Lungs (with the intention of blogging) on several trips, and by the time I arrive at my destination I have no time to actually do something with my thoughts.  This has happened on 4 separate occasions, and I am left to at least notice that this is a great album to travel with.  It sounds especially great when you are alone and the volume is up, so that you can sing along loudly whether or not you know the lyrics; it just makes us want to yell.

Dog Days Are Over is one of those songs that has been impossible to avoid, not that I've bothered to try.  The hopeful anthem is rather perfect for drama of all kinds, being pushed forward by action, excitement, and fantasy.  The first track wisely asks us to let go and set our sights on the good that's coming, and sets the tone for the rest of the album both instrumentally - with plucked harp and heavy drums - and atmospherically.

"Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up)" continues with a similar sense of freedom.  It's hard to picture anything other than some beautiful Stevie Nick-ian woman running through an enchanted forest.  Spiritual-mythological themes are introduced, causing many to describe Lungs as Goth-pop as she uses fantasy lit imagery to invite us into her world and question it with her.   In turn, we are also invited to question the things we know of our own world.

"I'm Not Calling You a Liar" is so stunning and always makes me think of the Ani lyrics that compare liars with alcoholics, asking, "Has he changed?...  Or is he just a liar with nothing to lie about?"  By the time "Howl" hits the course, I am seriously wondering how one woman can carry the energy of so far 4 phenomenal tracks in a row on one album.  I know recording isn't that simple, but I am almost exhausted just from pretending to Florence; what must it be like to have such ideas and passion that exudes itself all over this record?

Now for something a little different.  "Kiss With a Fist" was my first Florence song, so I have a soft spot for it.   Even though this song feels more similar to contemporaries like Lily Allen or Kate Nash in its playfulness and violence, Florence hits this genre harder, and shows off her ability to just plain rock out.  And right before slowing down and giving us the bluesy, and morbid ballad, "Girl With One Eye"; one of the many tracks that reminds me of Annie Lennox in her uniquely powerful, story-telling voice.

"Drumming Song" "Between Two Lungs, "Cosmic Love" come as a triplet, acting as not only the middle section of the album, but the mysterious center of the setting we've been drawn into.  The first and last are two of my favorite songs to blast in the car and drum along to, and all three give a context for the album title as they explore the physical and visceral of life and death, love and purpose.  Life and death continue to be contemplated even more explicitly in "My Boy Builds Coffins". 

"Hurricane Drunk", though still thematically dark has a lighter tone and sounds the most like a pop song so far.  I get a little annoyed when this song fades out, but when "Blinding" sets in I forgive and forget, as the softer song builds.  I really can't believe that this album is able to sound so cohesive and consistent in tone and setting, and yet I still can't say I've had enough.  I am still stoked to rip open the new album and listen to more of the same!  But before I need to do that, Florence presents me with one of my all time favorite covers of "You've Got the Love".  The album finishes, but my time with Florence does not.  If you loved the last track as well, it was remixed by the genius Jamie from The XX.  Listen to it here.

The Final Video Stars: Art Films

I suppose I should have warned you that there would be a catch-all category.  Music videos - because of primarily their length - can get away with doing something entirely conceptual, without clear plot or emotion, but still something freaking cool to look at.  Some of these videos still draw us in using character or idea, but generally there was no other genre that they naturally fit into.  Because of their un-film like way of using the music video medium, this category turns out some of the most memorable videos of all time.  Let's get to them.

10.  Doo Wop (That Thing) - Lauryn Hill, 1998.  Directed by Big TV!

If you've been following this Video Stars series, you may have noticed a theme of musicians making multiple appearances in their own video.  Here we are again with Lauryn Hill showing us the best use of the split screen in music video history.  The video is a perfect mirror of the song itself which marries doo-wop of the 50's to hip hop of the 90's.  And to be honest, it becomes visual proof that the only thing better than one L-Boogie is two.

9.  Hardest Button to Button - The White Stripes, 2003.  Directed by Michel Gondry.

Although the concept itself is simple, I can only imagine the amount of labour would have been necessary to create this stop-motion classic; dragging numerous drum sets all over the place.  To be exact: 32 Ludwig sets, 32 amps, and 16 mic stands, which when added together equal pure awesome-sauce.

8.  Buddy Holly - Weezer, 1994.  Directed by Spike Jonze.

Set within Arnold's restaurant of Happy Days, Weezer - a 90's band paying homage to a '50's rock legend - are cut seamlessly into an episode of a 1970's show that pays homage to the decade from which Buddy Holly comes.  Brilliant and believable, Spike Jonze makes yet another outstanding video.

7.  Pursuit of Happiness - Kid Cudi, 2009.  Directed by Megaforce.

Megaforce is able to capture a surprising, gravity-defying  world where Kid Cudi is either dreaming or stoned out of his mind.  Or perhaps both.  That could also be the reason he chose a terrible mainstream version as the official video instead of this masterpiece.

 6.  Crazy - Gnarls Barkley, 2006.  Directed by Robert Hales.

What does it say about you if you keep seeing Cee-Lo Green in your inkblot tests?  I think you're crazy... actually it's more likely that you are watching this video for Crazy that finds a visual concept that questions the viewer's mental state.  Bryan Louie gets the nod for all the inkblot art design that is best described as mesmerizing. 

5.  Islands - The XX, 2010.  Directed by Saam Farahmand.

I am pretty late to The XX fanclub - I've only started listening to them after discovering Jamie's awesome remixes of Adele and Florence + the Machine - but this video is absolutely worth your attention.  At first you think it's the biggest cop out ever, but then you notice details, and how brilliantly it expresses the singer's need for freedom from convention and routine.  And then you watch it again.  

4.  Cry - Godley & Creme, 1985.  Directed by Godley & Creme.

We all thought MJ's "Black or White" was brilliant for the seamless morphing of faces, but this one-hit-wonder did it first, and for 1985 it was pretty darn good.  Although sometimes a bit creepy, the up close faces are able to elicit sympathy as they sing about tears. 

3.  Let Forever Be - Chemical Brothers, 1999.  Directed by Michel Gondry.

One woman's reaccuring nightmare becomes another's entertaining music video, with this magical illusion that juxtaposes crisp kaleidoscopesque images with effect-less handheld film, and as Gondry loves to do, makes us feel like we are watching one continuous shot.  When I'm not thinking "this would be so fun to shoot", I'm thinking "how did he do that!?"

2.  Drop - The Pharcyde, 1995.  Directed by Spike Jonze.

An early and stunning use of backwards filming.  Sure Chris Martin did it, but he wasn't rapping!  These guys pull off all of the best backwards tricks, including graffiti, dressing themselves, realistic swagger, and pouring water.  Not necessarily in that order.  And although many more have attempted to follow in The Pharcyde's footprints, they will forever need to fight to be more than a mere reference to Spike Jonze's mastery of the technique. 

1.  Street Spirit (Fade Out) - Radiohead, 1995.  Directed by Jonathan Glazer.

At first glance this video didn't quite register when I watched it out of the corner of my eye.  But soon enough I was sucked into the beauty of these juxtaposed ideas that defy the laws of time.  The song is almost meditative, and the video lends itself to that as the black and white film exaggerates the play of light and shadow across Thom's face.  I notice something new everytime I watch it, and would likely rank this with the best of the best music videos of all time.