This album starts fast and loud. One of the issues I have with Deerhoof is the same issue I have with Sonic Youth (who I don’t really like) and the early Boredoms (who I do like) - and that is the use of what I guess would be called “dissonance” and “atonality”, combined with abruptness and a jarring quality in the songs. I like all these things in concept, but in practice they can be disruptive, not interesting. I find this phenonmenon/aesthetic prevalent in Deerhoof quite a bit – call it “avant-rock”.
I really have to listen actively to this album; if I try and just put it on and concentrate on others things while it’s playing, I find “Friend Opportunity” annoying. If I listen actively, though - like if I’m in the car on a long distance drive, or maybe doing something around the house that doesn’t require a lot of attention - I can follow the nuances. This is why I find myself going back and forth on Deerhoof albums. They combine elements of innocent pop, planned amateurishness, dissonace, atonality, abruptness, and other listener-challenging techniques. There’s a lot of simplicity, and even more complexity, on Deerhoof albums, and I don’t think either one of those things is automatically good or bad. On “Friend Opportunity” there’s a lot of sound texture. There’s also minimalism of varying kinds – simple and thrashing guitar noise, electronic beat minimalism, lone and vulnerable vocals. The strongest strains running through the music are Progressive Rock complexity (a la Goblin, Faust, etc), Avant-Noise dissonance (a la Boredoms, Yoko Ono, Faust again), and unpolished Indie-Pop melodicism (a la I don’t know who – I’m not too familiar with those specific bands: insert your own – this is your review too!).
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Auburn Lull “Regions Less Parallel (early works & rarities 1994 - 2004)” (2005) [by Michael]
This music lives in the troposphere between ambient and shoegaze. It’s ethereal to the extreme. It consists of sound washes, echoes, warm electronics, processed instruments, dreamy vocals, slower tempos, and drones – the usual cast of characters for shoegaze and dream pop. Some of it has a less song-structured, more “com- positional” aspect, tuning it into the frequency of ambient music: more about soundscapes than songs. The problem is that this music is just not that inventive and so the overall impression is of uniformity. This is a common problem in shoegaze music. It works better with pure ambient compositions, which tend to be composed as longer pieces that build and shift, creating a sort of background atmosphere. Shoegaze also creates that haze of atmosphere. It’s an easy formula not to either fuck up or excel at.
My current feeling about shoegaze music is that it’s too easy. It’s too easy, given the proper studio equipment and an understanding of the aesthetic, to create ethereal, dramatic soundscapes, and then if you want, add indecipherable, dreamy vocals. It doesn’t seem too hard to create a competent shoegaze album, which is what I think this CD is. I could see enjoying it if someone put it on during a long, nighttime car ride, or at night at home to have in the background for quiet conversation or making out. But it’s just not good enough - it’s kind of a cheat. It’s too easy. The music just isn’t that interesting, and it gets kind of annoying and tedious. Listening to the whole thing in one sitting, I feel like I just spent the night getting stoned and watching TV – not without its pleasures, but ultimately unsatisfying and kind of a waste of time. (That all being said, I think there are actually a couple of good tracks on here.)
My current feeling about shoegaze music is that it’s too easy. It’s too easy, given the proper studio equipment and an understanding of the aesthetic, to create ethereal, dramatic soundscapes, and then if you want, add indecipherable, dreamy vocals. It doesn’t seem too hard to create a competent shoegaze album, which is what I think this CD is. I could see enjoying it if someone put it on during a long, nighttime car ride, or at night at home to have in the background for quiet conversation or making out. But it’s just not good enough - it’s kind of a cheat. It’s too easy. The music just isn’t that interesting, and it gets kind of annoying and tedious. Listening to the whole thing in one sitting, I feel like I just spent the night getting stoned and watching TV – not without its pleasures, but ultimately unsatisfying and kind of a waste of time. (That all being said, I think there are actually a couple of good tracks on here.)
Sunday, June 3, 2007
Patience (1961) by John-Michael Sherrick
At least in English-speaking countries, Sir Arthur Sullivan's series of operettas composed to libretti by Sir William S. Gilbert remain the only Victorian comic operas performed today. For about a hundred years, the D'Oyly Carte Opera Company was the leading performers of the G&S canon, developing a performance style forever associated with the operettas. The DCOC really wasn't an opera company... it performed only operettas and many of its singers weren't classically trained singers (although a few alumnae went on to successful operatic careers). Still, their performances are synonymous with traditional performances of G&S. Their 1961 recording of Patience even includes the operetta's complete dialogue.
On the positive side, there is certainly a sense of fun and theatricality that one doesn't hear on G&S recordings made by non-G&S specialists. This isn't presented as some sort of down-market opera or glorified musical comedy or museum piece to be reverenced but not touched. At the best moments, the dialogue sparkles, the singing sounds as if it's sung by the characters, rather than a group of singers in a studio, and the orchestra carries the along the score at a vibrant pace. Then, of course, there's the fact that one's listening to a theatrical company that at the time of this recording had been performing Patience for 80 years... there's an intangible sense of confidence and tradition in the performances... a delicate balance between reverence for the past and making a classic theatrical work alive for a new audience.
On the negative side, the recording's selling point is also its main drawback. The DCOC's singing, quite frankly, isn't always easy on the ears. It's not that the performances are bad... it's simply that the DCOC is something of an acquired taste and a taste that I haven't yet totally acquired. Listening to their performances always leaves me with a sense of frustration. Obviously, unlike a DVD, one can only listen to a cd. Is this the best way to show off Sullivan's music? I'm not convinced that it is. On a cd, the music is the main appeal and really gives the attentive listener the opportunity to hear the care with which Sullivan lavished his comic opera scores, an artistry which especially shines in Patience, which I believe to be one of his most delicate and lovely scores. Sometimes the DCOC approach works. Mary Sansom in the title role conveys a certain fragility and sweet youthfulness in her waltz song, "Love is a Plaintive Song" that an opera singer probably wouldn't convey. It's one of the highlights of the set. As usual, Phillip Potter's clear Irish tenor charms the ear and John Reed's patter songs are funny and adroitly performed. But none of this changes the fact that the recording is performed by singing actors and the cd ends up, I think, being less a recording of G&S's Patience as it is a document of the DCOC's performance style.
On the positive side, there is certainly a sense of fun and theatricality that one doesn't hear on G&S recordings made by non-G&S specialists. This isn't presented as some sort of down-market opera or glorified musical comedy or museum piece to be reverenced but not touched. At the best moments, the dialogue sparkles, the singing sounds as if it's sung by the characters, rather than a group of singers in a studio, and the orchestra carries the along the score at a vibrant pace. Then, of course, there's the fact that one's listening to a theatrical company that at the time of this recording had been performing Patience for 80 years... there's an intangible sense of confidence and tradition in the performances... a delicate balance between reverence for the past and making a classic theatrical work alive for a new audience.
On the negative side, the recording's selling point is also its main drawback. The DCOC's singing, quite frankly, isn't always easy on the ears. It's not that the performances are bad... it's simply that the DCOC is something of an acquired taste and a taste that I haven't yet totally acquired. Listening to their performances always leaves me with a sense of frustration. Obviously, unlike a DVD, one can only listen to a cd. Is this the best way to show off Sullivan's music? I'm not convinced that it is. On a cd, the music is the main appeal and really gives the attentive listener the opportunity to hear the care with which Sullivan lavished his comic opera scores, an artistry which especially shines in Patience, which I believe to be one of his most delicate and lovely scores. Sometimes the DCOC approach works. Mary Sansom in the title role conveys a certain fragility and sweet youthfulness in her waltz song, "Love is a Plaintive Song" that an opera singer probably wouldn't convey. It's one of the highlights of the set. As usual, Phillip Potter's clear Irish tenor charms the ear and John Reed's patter songs are funny and adroitly performed. But none of this changes the fact that the recording is performed by singing actors and the cd ends up, I think, being less a recording of G&S's Patience as it is a document of the DCOC's performance style.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
QUEEN "NEWS OF THE WORLD" (1977) by Geoffrey
Time changes a lot. When I first bought News of the World in 1991, I did so on the strengths of “We Will Rock You” and “We are the Champions.” Years later, I found those tracks so overplayed and so devoid of any real heart that it was difficult for me to appreciate the whole album; after all, they open the disc.
Now I’m beginning to rekindle interest in the tracks as well as the album as a whole as a gutsy response to punk. Too outlandish a theory? I don’t know. Consider how ornate and produced Queen’s A Day at the Races, the album preceding News of the World, was. It is literally dripping with affectations and genre explorations. News of the World, released when punk was in full swing opens with the minimalist “We Will Rock You,” the lyrics of which seem to reference Queen’s ability to out rock the “disgrace” of punk. Although “We Are the Champions” has more in common stylistically with earlier Queen pieces, it's lyrics recall the band’s rise from poor nobodies in the early 70s.
The rest of the album seems to more than bear out this theme. Outside of the authentic-sounding torch song, “My Melancholy Blues,” the record as a whole is leaner, rawer, and harder than Queen’s earlier records. Drummer Roger Taylor’s “Sheer Heart Attack,” which follows “Champions” seems another effort to take on punk, this time by outdoing them at their own game of extremely fast simple guitar riffs while seeming to mimic some of punk’s lyrical concerns. The churning “Fight From the Inside,” also by Taylor, seems to attack the bravura of punk and that the title of the song is the best method to affect change.
While the rest of the album doesn’t go on the attack in the same way, I think it’s notable that both “Spread Your Wings” and “Sleeping on the Sidewalk” tell the stories of working-class Joes in different ways, the latter making use of bluesy guitar playing that May rarely tries.
Outside of the ubiquitous opening salutes, I’ve never had an issue with much of the material on the rest of the album. Still, put in the context of a response to punk, the other songs on News of the World sound a lot fresher to my ears, harder, and ballsier. Given how uncool Queen was in 1977, News of the World feels like a damn bold move. It’s just too bad that the band blew their success on a follow-up album, Jazz, that reeked of rock star excess and did as much to undo whatever street cred News of the World had given them.
Now I’m beginning to rekindle interest in the tracks as well as the album as a whole as a gutsy response to punk. Too outlandish a theory? I don’t know. Consider how ornate and produced Queen’s A Day at the Races, the album preceding News of the World, was. It is literally dripping with affectations and genre explorations. News of the World, released when punk was in full swing opens with the minimalist “We Will Rock You,” the lyrics of which seem to reference Queen’s ability to out rock the “disgrace” of punk. Although “We Are the Champions” has more in common stylistically with earlier Queen pieces, it's lyrics recall the band’s rise from poor nobodies in the early 70s.
The rest of the album seems to more than bear out this theme. Outside of the authentic-sounding torch song, “My Melancholy Blues,” the record as a whole is leaner, rawer, and harder than Queen’s earlier records. Drummer Roger Taylor’s “Sheer Heart Attack,” which follows “Champions” seems another effort to take on punk, this time by outdoing them at their own game of extremely fast simple guitar riffs while seeming to mimic some of punk’s lyrical concerns. The churning “Fight From the Inside,” also by Taylor, seems to attack the bravura of punk and that the title of the song is the best method to affect change.
While the rest of the album doesn’t go on the attack in the same way, I think it’s notable that both “Spread Your Wings” and “Sleeping on the Sidewalk” tell the stories of working-class Joes in different ways, the latter making use of bluesy guitar playing that May rarely tries.
Outside of the ubiquitous opening salutes, I’ve never had an issue with much of the material on the rest of the album. Still, put in the context of a response to punk, the other songs on News of the World sound a lot fresher to my ears, harder, and ballsier. Given how uncool Queen was in 1977, News of the World feels like a damn bold move. It’s just too bad that the band blew their success on a follow-up album, Jazz, that reeked of rock star excess and did as much to undo whatever street cred News of the World had given them.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Jarvis Cocker "Jarvis" (Nov. '06) [by Michael]
I had high hopes for this album, partly because the album art is so excellent - an indulgence in surface aesthetics that I'm suceptible to, more so than I'd like to be. Also, I always longed for another album by Pulp (the band from whence Cocker emanates) that would live up to the potential of Different Class, their aknowledged masterpiece. I thought that "Jarvis" could be that album. I find that new surroundings often stimulate me, and I imagined that the open possibilities offered by recording outside the familair territory of his band might do the same for Mr. Cocker. And they have.
Recently Cocker collaborated with Air and Charlotte Gainsbourg for her album "5:55". I don't know the chronology - whether he recorded his own album before that collaboration, simultaneous to it (unlikely) - but my inclination is that he recorded his own album after he worked on Gainsbourg's. I'm inclined to think that collaborating with new collaborators would also tend to stimulate the flow of his creative juices, and perhaps also a more vigorous mingling of the humours.
My opinion of this album has oscilated since I got it. At first I forced myself to think that it almost lived up to all my high expectations; then disillusion crashed down around me. I found myself only satisfied with a handful (if that) of songs on the album. Now I find myself very pleased with it - with the exception of the song 'Fat Children'. But given my inability to rely on the consistency of my reactions to this set of songs, that opinion could be ousted by mind rebels at any time.
A final imposition: to those of you who have the album or may pick it up, what the hell is the point of 'The Loss Adjuster (Excepts 1& 2)'? Is there a real song out there somewhere with that title, or is that just a nod to the quirky, quasi-artistic 'interludes', 'excepts', 'reprises', etc. of late-sixties/early-seventies albums? Or is it both, with the added intent of provoking questions, curiosities and theories? I appreciate the effort, but it's actually unsatisfying. I think.
Recently Cocker collaborated with Air and Charlotte Gainsbourg for her album "5:55". I don't know the chronology - whether he recorded his own album before that collaboration, simultaneous to it (unlikely) - but my inclination is that he recorded his own album after he worked on Gainsbourg's. I'm inclined to think that collaborating with new collaborators would also tend to stimulate the flow of his creative juices, and perhaps also a more vigorous mingling of the humours.
My opinion of this album has oscilated since I got it. At first I forced myself to think that it almost lived up to all my high expectations; then disillusion crashed down around me. I found myself only satisfied with a handful (if that) of songs on the album. Now I find myself very pleased with it - with the exception of the song 'Fat Children'. But given my inability to rely on the consistency of my reactions to this set of songs, that opinion could be ousted by mind rebels at any time.
A final imposition: to those of you who have the album or may pick it up, what the hell is the point of 'The Loss Adjuster (Excepts 1& 2)'? Is there a real song out there somewhere with that title, or is that just a nod to the quirky, quasi-artistic 'interludes', 'excepts', 'reprises', etc. of late-sixties/early-seventies albums? Or is it both, with the added intent of provoking questions, curiosities and theories? I appreciate the effort, but it's actually unsatisfying. I think.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Merrie England (1960) by John-Michael Sherrick
Sir Edward German is now virtually forgotten save by devotees of light opera. Thus it is with great pleasure that I write a review of his his most popular work, Merrie England (1902). The cd is no longer in print, but it is probably one of the most dainty, elegant operettas that one will ever hear. It is a perfect example of what a good operetta is capable of doing, especially those of the British comic opera tradition. No, the melodies aren't as memorable of those by Sir Arthur Sullivan, nor is Basil Hood's libretto as clever or witty as those of Sir William S. Gilbert, but Merrie England still affords the listener with two cds of breathtakingly graceful music. Hopefully, EMI will re-release this fine recording of an absolutely delightful piece of music.
I haven't had the opportunity to hear any of German's music other than Merrie England, but one quality of the music strikes the listener almost immediately -- the exquisite craftmanship that enters into every song. One is struck with the impression that he is browsing through a jewelry box of pretty gems and baubles, none of which are necessarily large or brilliant, but all of which are very pleasing and none of which are ever degenerate into vulgarity, even the most trivial of them. It is rare to hear an evening-length theatrical work in which every piece is so tastefully and appropriately composed. There are comic numbers for the comedians, lovely ballads and love duets, rousing choruses, and a few numbers which approach operatic grandeur without either falling into two traps to which operetta composers are especially susceptible -- either spoofing grand opera for cheap laughs or trying a too literal approximation of operatic conventions that jars with the lighter numbers of the operetta. Therein lies the operetta's charm, although it's one that requires repeated listening to fully appreciate. Because few of the melodies are especially striking and the orchestrations conventional, it's easy to ignore the careful planning that went into the score. It seems, at first, to be conventional light music... the work of a well-trained musician rather than that of a highly talented composer. But it certainly takes a certain type of genius to create music so splendidly well-behaved... so beguiling it its perfect conventionality... so unoffensive without being innocuous. It is a textbook example of a composer who understands exactly the requirements needed to meet the needs of the type of music he is trying to compose and rises to the occasion without superfluities or flaws. Nothing clever... nothing pretentious... German isn't trying to break new grounds in operetta or experiment with novel orchestral effects. It is, from first to last, music that is simply, delectably light and easy on the ears without rotting the mind with an overlay of musical sugar. It represents the triumph of good taste, albeit of a somewhat limited, superficial sort, over excess of any kind.
I haven't had the opportunity to hear any of German's music other than Merrie England, but one quality of the music strikes the listener almost immediately -- the exquisite craftmanship that enters into every song. One is struck with the impression that he is browsing through a jewelry box of pretty gems and baubles, none of which are necessarily large or brilliant, but all of which are very pleasing and none of which are ever degenerate into vulgarity, even the most trivial of them. It is rare to hear an evening-length theatrical work in which every piece is so tastefully and appropriately composed. There are comic numbers for the comedians, lovely ballads and love duets, rousing choruses, and a few numbers which approach operatic grandeur without either falling into two traps to which operetta composers are especially susceptible -- either spoofing grand opera for cheap laughs or trying a too literal approximation of operatic conventions that jars with the lighter numbers of the operetta. Therein lies the operetta's charm, although it's one that requires repeated listening to fully appreciate. Because few of the melodies are especially striking and the orchestrations conventional, it's easy to ignore the careful planning that went into the score. It seems, at first, to be conventional light music... the work of a well-trained musician rather than that of a highly talented composer. But it certainly takes a certain type of genius to create music so splendidly well-behaved... so beguiling it its perfect conventionality... so unoffensive without being innocuous. It is a textbook example of a composer who understands exactly the requirements needed to meet the needs of the type of music he is trying to compose and rises to the occasion without superfluities or flaws. Nothing clever... nothing pretentious... German isn't trying to break new grounds in operetta or experiment with novel orchestral effects. It is, from first to last, music that is simply, delectably light and easy on the ears without rotting the mind with an overlay of musical sugar. It represents the triumph of good taste, albeit of a somewhat limited, superficial sort, over excess of any kind.
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Death In Vegas "Satan's Circus" (2004) [by Michael]
This album starts out unbelievably well. The first track 'Ein Fur Die Damen' gives the same giddy rush those with ears get when 'Isi' kicks off the album "Neu! 75". Those who don't know that album or its companion pieces from the 70s German electronic milieu - albums by Kraftwerk, Neu!, Cluster, Harmonia - will not be able to refernce the touch points of "Satan's Circus", but who f-ing cares? I haven't heard any of Death In Vegas' previous albums. This is electronic music. It beeps and buzzes, crackles and bubbles, and sweeps from one speaker to another. But most of this album is much colder and darker than the opening track. Four tracks in, 'Black Lead' sounds more like something from "Cluster II". That album is full of dark spaceyness; it's not thrilling and fun like 'Isi' or 'Ein Fur Die Damen', and it's not as good. "Satan's Circus", like the German electronica it's based on, is better when it's more friendly. The electronic outer space excurions into black holes are often somewhat unsatifying. The spacial depth and sonic textures on cold tracks like 'Black Lead' are cool and interesting, and I think those tracks make a better effect on their own than back to back on the album.
Most of the tracks on "Satan's Circus" are cold to some extent, even the friendlier ones. There's no attempt to make the music more organic sounding. There are little to no inputs from, or samples of, 'regular' instruments. It makes no attempt to mediate or vitiate the nature of its electronic sound sources. Nor is it really 'danceable' - most of it not by a long shot. This is not what most people think of when they think of "electronica", even the ambient stuff. All the better. The electronics are allowed to really be their weird selves. I can tolerate the duller parts of "Satan's Circus" because of that, though they could have cut 10 or 15 minutes out of the middle of the album. The payoffs are gold money, though. I get butterflies again on the last few tracks and it closes with the charming, music-box bleeps heard in abundance on another one of those classic German records.
Most of the tracks on "Satan's Circus" are cold to some extent, even the friendlier ones. There's no attempt to make the music more organic sounding. There are little to no inputs from, or samples of, 'regular' instruments. It makes no attempt to mediate or vitiate the nature of its electronic sound sources. Nor is it really 'danceable' - most of it not by a long shot. This is not what most people think of when they think of "electronica", even the ambient stuff. All the better. The electronics are allowed to really be their weird selves. I can tolerate the duller parts of "Satan's Circus" because of that, though they could have cut 10 or 15 minutes out of the middle of the album. The payoffs are gold money, though. I get butterflies again on the last few tracks and it closes with the charming, music-box bleeps heard in abundance on another one of those classic German records.
Duchess of Chicago (1999) by John-Michael Sherrick
Light opera is an art form that has fallen out of popularity, especially in the past forty years. Thus it is not a surprise that a sumptuous recording of Emmerich Kalman's 1928 operetta, The Duchess of Chicago, is no longer in print. It's a shame, really, although a shame that is ultimately understandable. The work is hardly a masterpiece of operetta and one cd of highlights, containing the brightest and best numbers from the show, might have had a longer shelf life than the unwieldly, over-the-top work that the complete operetta is. But Kalman was trying something new: intermingling traditional operetta music with that of American jazz and musical comedy. I am not aware whether or not he was the first Viennese composer to try out such a frothy concoction, but he certainly was not the last. What one ends up with is a fascinating snapshot into the Viennese light opera scene of the 1920s with all its many charms and more than a few problems. In The Duchess of Chicago, we see one of the most famous operetta composers of his day desperately fighting against the tide of time and trying to preserve his dying art form by adapting it to the modern world. Most importantly, we see why it was a losing battle.
The plot of The Duchess of Chicago, as silly and forgettable as it is, is fascinating if you see the operetta as the end of a theatrical genre : Mary Lloyd, a noveau riche girl from Chicago, buys the impoverished Ruritanian kingdom of Sylvaria. Needless to say, she and Prince Sandor, the ruler of Sylvaria, fall in love but Sandor clings to the old Sylvarian ways and is simultaneously repulsed and captivated by his brash American sweetheart who would rather dance the Charleston than the csardas. The whole operetta ends up a battle between two different genres of music, reflecting the different personalities of the prince and Mary (not to mention Kalman's attempt to reconcile the rising popularity of American-styled jazz with operetta).
This is all a very clever idea, but the operetta is only partially successful. There are too many clashing musical styles, too many characters, too much of an "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" mentality for the operetta to succeed. This is not a vibrant attempt to wittily comment on the musical scene of 1928 Vienna, but rather the capitulation of a fading style of popular musical theater to a more successful one. It is a piece born out of desperation and it shows. There are many fine songs and three well-crafted concerted finales, but the operetta as a whole is too cutesy, tame, and old-fashioned in plot and music to provide a thoroughly enjoyable listening experience (maybe in the theater it was better). The concept is more ambitious than its execution. The operetta music is light, tuneful, and charming, but rarely as memorable as that of Kalman's more successful works. The jazz music pretty much sounds like typical operetta/musical comedy tunes with a few jazz touches. Trying to absorb this more modern, less sentimental sound into the sweetness and light of operetta results in some fairly saccharine music. There is always this tension in operetta, that between the more classical and popular oriented aspects of the genre. How a composer manages to reconcile these elements into a successful work accounts for much of operetta's charm. But I doubt that it has ever been as stridently or obsessively made the focal point of an operetta before or after Kalman's Duchess of Chicago. The music is not really based on a delicate mixture of opera and musical comedy resulting in a work of theater that comprises both but rather on a conflict between that harmonization and American-styled popular music. This is probably why the big Viennese waltz duet between Sandor and Mary never gets off the ground... it is not trying to charm, it is trying to argue a point. By all means, if you enjoy Viennese operetta, find a copy of Duchess of Chicago. You will enjoy it. But you will also, despite the sparkle of the music... despite the air of gaiety... despite the colorful orchestrations, be left with a certain feel of sadness. In many ways, it is the end of the rich tradition of Viennese waltz-opera.
The plot of The Duchess of Chicago, as silly and forgettable as it is, is fascinating if you see the operetta as the end of a theatrical genre : Mary Lloyd, a noveau riche girl from Chicago, buys the impoverished Ruritanian kingdom of Sylvaria. Needless to say, she and Prince Sandor, the ruler of Sylvaria, fall in love but Sandor clings to the old Sylvarian ways and is simultaneously repulsed and captivated by his brash American sweetheart who would rather dance the Charleston than the csardas. The whole operetta ends up a battle between two different genres of music, reflecting the different personalities of the prince and Mary (not to mention Kalman's attempt to reconcile the rising popularity of American-styled jazz with operetta).
This is all a very clever idea, but the operetta is only partially successful. There are too many clashing musical styles, too many characters, too much of an "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" mentality for the operetta to succeed. This is not a vibrant attempt to wittily comment on the musical scene of 1928 Vienna, but rather the capitulation of a fading style of popular musical theater to a more successful one. It is a piece born out of desperation and it shows. There are many fine songs and three well-crafted concerted finales, but the operetta as a whole is too cutesy, tame, and old-fashioned in plot and music to provide a thoroughly enjoyable listening experience (maybe in the theater it was better). The concept is more ambitious than its execution. The operetta music is light, tuneful, and charming, but rarely as memorable as that of Kalman's more successful works. The jazz music pretty much sounds like typical operetta/musical comedy tunes with a few jazz touches. Trying to absorb this more modern, less sentimental sound into the sweetness and light of operetta results in some fairly saccharine music. There is always this tension in operetta, that between the more classical and popular oriented aspects of the genre. How a composer manages to reconcile these elements into a successful work accounts for much of operetta's charm. But I doubt that it has ever been as stridently or obsessively made the focal point of an operetta before or after Kalman's Duchess of Chicago. The music is not really based on a delicate mixture of opera and musical comedy resulting in a work of theater that comprises both but rather on a conflict between that harmonization and American-styled popular music. This is probably why the big Viennese waltz duet between Sandor and Mary never gets off the ground... it is not trying to charm, it is trying to argue a point. By all means, if you enjoy Viennese operetta, find a copy of Duchess of Chicago. You will enjoy it. But you will also, despite the sparkle of the music... despite the air of gaiety... despite the colorful orchestrations, be left with a certain feel of sadness. In many ways, it is the end of the rich tradition of Viennese waltz-opera.
Monday, May 7, 2007
Circulus: The Lick on the Tip of the Envelope Yet to be Sent (2005) [By Geoffrey]
There was a time when I truly believed every psychedelic album would be a masterpiece. I extensively copied the appendix of a book on psychedelic music that listed every important psychedelic album to their knowledge. Unfortunately, musical categories are never as simple as psychedelic=good. At the time I copied that list, if there was a psychedelic album that I didn’t like, the problem lay with me; I just wasn’t “getting” it.
Still, whenever I hear descriptions of a psychedelic record I tend to look forward to listening to it, hoping it will send me into ecstatic rapture; the way good psychedelic music should—making you feel like you're on drugs without being on drugs. And even when such an album doesn’t sink in that way at first, I so want that experience that I’m willing to give it more of a chance than most other genres of music.
Such has been the process with this debut album from Circulus. Tracks like “My Body Is Made of Sunlight,” “Aphid,” and “Swallow” is music I’ve been waiting to hear: eerie, yet transcendent psych-folk that really sends me into a trance. But elsewhere, the sonic palette, which also includes some real deft and subtle use of electronics, can not support the “Renaissance Fair” nature of the of the lyrics that mirror the somewhat ridiculous images of the band in period clothing marching through the forest or hanging out in a bog. I’m shaken from my inner space journey by lyrics that shout “power to the pixies” or are so precious, musing with incredible earnestness, “candlelight, the most beautiful thing, ever.” While I think Irish music could be mixed nicely with psychedelia, if it’s not done subtly enough, I come crashing down to Earth in the middle of an Irish jig. Unfortunately, this happens frequently in a Circulus song, transporting me to far off places one second and leading me to a ridiculous moment the next.
Still, whenever I hear descriptions of a psychedelic record I tend to look forward to listening to it, hoping it will send me into ecstatic rapture; the way good psychedelic music should—making you feel like you're on drugs without being on drugs. And even when such an album doesn’t sink in that way at first, I so want that experience that I’m willing to give it more of a chance than most other genres of music.
Such has been the process with this debut album from Circulus. Tracks like “My Body Is Made of Sunlight,” “Aphid,” and “Swallow” is music I’ve been waiting to hear: eerie, yet transcendent psych-folk that really sends me into a trance. But elsewhere, the sonic palette, which also includes some real deft and subtle use of electronics, can not support the “Renaissance Fair” nature of the of the lyrics that mirror the somewhat ridiculous images of the band in period clothing marching through the forest or hanging out in a bog. I’m shaken from my inner space journey by lyrics that shout “power to the pixies” or are so precious, musing with incredible earnestness, “candlelight, the most beautiful thing, ever.” While I think Irish music could be mixed nicely with psychedelia, if it’s not done subtly enough, I come crashing down to Earth in the middle of an Irish jig. Unfortunately, this happens frequently in a Circulus song, transporting me to far off places one second and leading me to a ridiculous moment the next.
Air "Pocket Symphony" (Mar./07) [by Michael]
Every time Air releases a new album I'm pretty excited. When "Moon Safari" broke out in 1998 I didn't like them. My first reaction to that album was that is was the soundtrack to the posturings of beautiful jet-setters, and I dismissed it for six months. Later I found myself able to listen to it without the entanglements of those impressions, and quickly it became a favorite of mine. I still get that impression from Air, though. A lot of the time that side of the music amuses me and adds to the ambiance and appeal, sometimes it detracts. The songs can sometimes have the feel of an affected but engaging conversation at a party; they can feel vapid. Their music is so well done, though. "Pocket Symphony" is no exception. Obviously the ultra-hip slickness is part of the whole concept of Air; sometimes they pull it off better than others. I think "Pocket Symphony" is better than than "Talkie Walkie" or "10,000 Hz Legend" and possibly better than their work on Charlotte Gainsbourg's recent album "5:55". This may have to do with the fact that I'm listening to it on headphones. Air certainly has a high appreciation for production and I imagine their albums are recorded to be played on high quality stereo equipment. Maybe the acoustics in my apartment aren't as good as they could be, but this album could fall into the catergory of 'headphone music'. They use their usual bag of tricks superbly on most of the album, and as usual there are no bad tracks. Everything is all warm and full, smooth, gliding and sexy. I really think Air are a great band, one of the best around today.
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