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Archive for May, 2010

Day 90. They Might Be Giants.

Saturday, May 15th, 2010

So in getting ready to write up this post, I discovered the latest ‘They Might Be Giants’ album called ‘Here Comes Science’. We have ‘Here Come the ABCs’ and ‘Here Come the 123s’, and they are quite fun, but ‘Here Comes Science’ seems to be right in the two John’s power alley… including a remake of their great cover for ‘Why Does The Sun Shine’. I just previewed a few tracks on iTunes, and I can’t wait to get it (complete with videos!!!).

The CDs I’m ripping tonight are everything I have from them on CD (the above were purchased electronically). There is ‘They Might Be Giants’, ‘Lincoln’, ‘Flood’, ‘Apollo 18’, the ‘Why Does The Sun Shine’ CD Single (with a cover version of ‘Jessica’ by the Allman Brothers) and ‘John Henry’. TMBG certainly appealed to the geek side of me in high school. I called ‘Dial-A-Song’ (and heard ‘Why Does the Sun Shine’ there for the first time). I could sing along with ‘Purple Toupee’. I remember picking up ‘Apollo 18’ from work the day it came out. One of my favorite parts of the CD was the last set of tracks called ‘Fingertips’, a bunch of 2-10 second snippets that all sounded like TMBG song discards. The liner notes mentioned that this album was specifically created with the CD players ‘random’ mode in mind, and that the snippets of ‘Fingertips’ would then be interspersed throughout your listening of the album. I don’t think I have played this disc straight through once since discovering that note, and the little snippets work great in this way.

A few months later they were going to be playing at the Crest Theatre in Sacramento, and tickets to that show were my first official ‘big perk’ from being a buyer at Tower. I remember sheepishly asking the rep from WEA if I he could get me some tickets, and without hesitation he said – ‘Yeah… how many do you need?’. I got two and went with my friend Josh. During this tour, they were bringing along a whole band for the first time, and they were also fresh off their second album with hit songs. They were great live, and the band seemed to fit into the quirky world of the two original members just fine. They even did a straight through playing of all of ‘Fingertips’, which if you listen to the stylistic changes that happen when all the little tracks are run together, you can imagine how jaw droopingly cool it was to hear a group do this live. But THE moment of the night was the first encore.

Only John and John came back on stage initially. Just guitar, accordion and voice. They start to sing ‘Istanbul, Not Constantinople’ in what seems to be a stripped down version, and it’s great. Then they get to the part of the song where they just sing ‘AH’ over and over again, and it is like they hit a time warp or something. The lights change, fog creeps onto the stage, and what seems to be a roof of laser beams shoots over the audience. The two sing a chord, then one changes his note, but something electronics keeps sustaining it, the other changes, etc. etc. for close to 4 or 5 minutes. The room gets dense with fog and sound, and their singing is just amazing. Suddenly, the lights change back, and they finish the song.

This might be one of my most amazing concert memories ever.

Day 89. Vivaldi, Getz/Gilberto, Pink Martini and Bach.

Saturday, May 15th, 2010

Tonight I came across a stack of CDs in my bedroom that I discovered while grabbing some freshly recharged AA batteries for my camera. There is a little magazine holder there that really is just holding a robe I never wear and, much to my surprise, a stack of discs. Included in this stack is the Anner Bylsma disc of Vivaldi Concertos that I had been missing (!) as well as Pink Martini’s second album, the Pierre Fournier Bach Cello Suites and the Getz/Gilberto classic. I happily brought the stack downstairs and immediately ripped the Vivaldi and put it on while the girls ate their dinner, and happily announced to Tamiko that I had found the disc. We played it a lot when I first shacked up with her in her apartment on Arch St. in Berkeley, and I mentioned how hearing the music reminded me of that time. She said that it reminded her of when Celia was being born, and that is when I realized that this was the stack of CDs that we took to the hospital with us for Celia and, three years later, with Mira. Not that we did much listening during Celia actually being born (I really only remember hearing Bach Cello Suites that day, early in the process… after that is mostly a blur until Celia was out and all of us had quiet moments here and there over the next couple of days). We had a couple days in the hospital after both girls were born, and the well-known music playing in the background helped prepare both of them, from day 1, for the house of music they would be moving back into.

When I had the Vivaldi on this morning, Celia did some ballet like dancing. She is just as elegant as the music is, and though she is making up almost everything there is doing, I already see a bit of virtuosity in her mind for body movement. Mira laughs as I sing along with Joao Gilberto, and I love that in their life times, my girls have heard music from five continents and over ten centuries. They have adapted it to their own, and can focus on it at times, and enjoy it in the background. The Arvo Pärt disc we also had at the hospital still puts Mira (who turns two in a week) to sleep every night, and Celia moves between Bach and Dowland.

People often ask me if when I am going to start the girls on music lessons. Often I get a shocked glance back when I say ‘when they ask’. They have their hands on instruments whenever they want to, from violins and upright grand pianos to flutes for the bathtub that you tune with water. There is a two octave kid accordion as well. They both dance, and they are both around music everyday. They sing. I’m not worried about forcing anything musical into my girls’ lives. They are already musical, and I cherish that there is so much joy in their lives because of it.

Day 88. Beethoven.

Thursday, May 13th, 2010

Wilhelm Kempff fest tonight! I have the complete piano sonatas, cello sonatas with Pierre Fournier and violin sonatas with Yehudi Menuhin. Not sure if I will get through all of them tonight (15 CDs). These are some of my favorite recordings… ever.

The piano sonatas recording are wonderful. There are mistakes here and there (and this is the case on all these recordings) but all the performances feel very much like real performances (rather then recordings). The overall shaping of movements and whole pieces is wonderful, and you can tell that these are pieces that all of these performers know in their bones. It is performed as though these are great actors who have played a character to the point where they know the past, present, future, thoughts and motivations.

The sonatas box is probably the box set I sold the most of while working at Tower in the classical room. I also had a copy of it (a ‘defective’ copy) stashed away under the counter to play during my shifts. And not only are these some of the best recordings of the standards that most people look for (the ‘Moonlight’ and ‘Pathetique’ for instance), but the late sonatas are nothing short of stunning. The set I have (on DG) was the third recording of the complete Beethoven sonatas for Kempff. And the late sonatas especially benefit from this. They are introspective and have an extreme of touch to them – very light and floaty trills, and heavy dramatic octaves in the beginning of the Op. 111. The lyrical moments between the fugues in Op. 110 literally sound like someone singing a recitative, the piano practically breathing between utterances.

And as much as I LOVE the piano sonata recordings, the cello sonatas are even more special. The recordings are live, and show how well the two performers on stage know each other, and how well they both know Beethoven. The last movement of the op. 69 is a great example of this. The whole trajectory that leads up to the big climax near the end of the movement is paced temporally and dynamically in a perfect way. The whole movement swells and swells like a tide coming in… the waves slowly get larger and larger, and if you are a musician what would probably amaze you the most is how many levels of dynamics these players have. There seem to be four or five gradations between mezzo-forte and forte, and when they finally reach the climactic moment (together in octaves) it is an amazing moment. And the two Op. 102 sonatas feel like old familiar friends coming together again to share a lifetime of experience and understanding.

The violin sonatas lack the brilliance of the live cello sonatas, but keeps the feeling of old friends coming together. The pacing of most of the recordings are a little slower then normal, but the relaxed pacing works well for the two players. Nothing feels strained. The first movement of the ‘Kreutzer’, for instance, feels like two people sharing the drama of a story, but as a retelling of the drama. Most recordings of this piece have a sense of urgency, but here the urgency is replaced by the comfort that no matter how intense the music, everything will come out alright.

Day 87. Brahms and Yo La Tengo.

Wednesday, May 12th, 2010

Tonight I finished ripping the Julius Katchen complete Brahms piano works and a stack of Yo La Tengo. The Katchen set is very well done, and I remember when it came out because Jim the manager at Tower Berkeley held the box up when it was unpacked, had a great smile spread over his face, and snapped ‘KATCHEN!’. He had been waiting for this set for a number of years (since his days playing piano in college), and he took the single copy of the set we got in and immediately purchased it. I asked him if it was good, he looked at me, held up the set and again snapped ‘KATCHEN!’. I picked it up a few weeks after that and really enjoyed it as well, especially the late sets of piano pieces.

I had already ripped a few Yo La Tengo discs early on in the project, so I went ahead and grabbed the rest that were on the shelves. Included in this stack was ‘I Can Hear The Heart Beating As One’, the album that I consider, hands down, to be the best album of the ’90s. The flow of the album goes between rockers, folk songs and out there shoegazer drones. There is a great Beach Boys cover, and the last 20 minutes (“Spec Bebop”, “We’re and American Band” and “My Little Corner Of The World”) is a great outro to a great album. And for personal reasons, it was also the album that introduced me to the band. I first heard it being played at the old Wall Berlin cafe in Berkeley (I think I heard ‘Autumn Sweater’ leading into ‘Little Honda’) one night while I was closing at Tower, and bought the disc that night. Honestly though, the first time I heard it all the way through, I thought it was a bit tough to get through. Then I listened again and probably by the fourth or fifth time I couldn’t believe how good of an album it is. From then on, it just continued to grow on me. I picked up a few more records before ‘And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out’ came out. Within those couple years, Yo La Tengo became probably my favorite rock band. I still pick up any of their releases as soon as they come out (and since the last few have been available as pre-orders on iTunes, Yo La Tengo also tends to be one of the only bands where I buy the album BEFORE I can get it).

This album still stands up incredibly well. And I see it as the start of a great run for the band. After this album, they have been releasing a new album about once every three years (with a few side projects thrown in here and there in between). And they have held up a pretty high level of consistency. As of right now, ‘I Can Hear The Heart Beating As One’ lies at the mid point of their career. So far. ‘Popular Songs’ came out last year, and I imagine the next album should be out sometime around 2012.

I can’t wait.

And if you are one of those unfortunate people that thinks that the 90s topped out with ‘OK Computer’ or ‘Nevermind’ or any of Björk’s great albums, then you should treat yourself and go pick up the real best album of the 90s.

Day 86. John Coltrane.

Tuesday, May 11th, 2010

Tonight I made one of my own picks and chose the ‘Heavyweight Giant’ box set that Rhino put out that collected John Coltrane’s albums on Atlantic. Mostly, I had ‘Ole’ in my head earlier today and was surprised not to have it ready to play yet. What I think is a LOT of the fun of this set is Coltrane’s transition into full-time band leader, and starting to stretch out more and more. Tunes stretch out, and you start to see Coltrane tighten up in the technical realm as well. The playing on ‘Giant Steps’ is phenomenal, tight and clean. But by the time you get to ‘Olé Coltrane’, ‘The Avant-Garde’ and ‘Coltrane’s Sound’ you can start to see where his future taking shape (especially as McCoy Tyner and Elvin Jones start to appear on the scene).

For most of my time through college, this set was the Coltrane I listened to and enjoyed the most. As I finished up college (and started to compose more) the later Coltrane on Impulse! took on more of a focus for me. I started to understand and enjoy the REALLY out there stuff quite a bit, so this set has sat on my shelf for quite some time without me listening to it as much.

And that is really too bad, because now that I have started to listen to this set again, I am remembering how amazing it is. Just amazing jazz, and I really appreciate all the alternative takes that show how different each play through of a tune can be. You also see a very melodic Coltrane on some of these tracks as well. ‘Central Park West’, ‘Naima’, and ‘Cousin Mary’ all stand in great relief to the staggering virtuosic playing on ‘Giant Steps’ and ‘Countdown’.

All the music in this set was recorded between early 1959 to mid 1961. ‘Kind of Blue’ was also recorded during this time. Within 2 years, he was signing with Impulse! and finalizing ‘the Quartet’ that would record ‘A Love Supreme’ in 1964. In other words, it is a serious time of transition for Coltrane (even more staggering to think he would be dead by 1967). It is also some of the most polished recordings that I think he made. By the time he goes to Impulse!, he also returns to Rudy Van Gelder to do some of the recording (which I don’t mean to imply is ‘unpolished’, but that the engineering is as much a part of the recording as the playing is… in a good way!). These albums seem to exist out of the rest of his works in a strange way, as though the Atlantic recordings were a chance for Coltrane to get a start away from the collaborative surroundings he had been in to start and discover who he would be as a band leader. And these recordings show some amazing steps being taken. None of the work is poor… these albums are great. These discs are the glue between Coltrane as up and coming sideman and the late Coltrane (and I mean ‘late’ as in ‘late’ Beethoven… where so much exploration and forward looking greatness is found by the artist), and to see the change happen over the course of two years is quite stunning.

Day 85. U2, Red Hot Chili Peppers, The Police and The Clash.

Monday, May 10th, 2010

Today’s rips were a few CDs brought in from the car from recent car trips to Seattle. These included The Clash’s ‘London Calling’, ‘Mother’s Milk’ by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, ‘Achtung Baby’ by U2 and the ‘Every Breath You Take’ Police compilation.  Let me start off by saying that I love the Police, especially the first few albums. Sting I hung with for a couple of albums, but by the time the 1986 remix of ‘Don’t stand So Close To Me’ came out I was rather disappointed. The original version is SO much better then the remix (which simply seemed to me to be a way to try and get new Sting fans to buy a Police record). But what surprised me on this recent listening to the compilation as well is that it is MOSTLY geared towards that audience. Where is ‘So Lonely’ and ‘Bring On The Night’? Well – that is the problem with compilations in general. Oh well.

And it is for those same reasons that, even though I have already ripped ‘Clash on Broadway’, I sure am glad to have ‘London Calling’ (and a few others) to rip as well. One of my earliest record cover memories is of ‘London Calling’ from when I was about 5. Or maybe I should rephrase that… it is one of my earliest memories of being struck by an album cover. I remember my first record (a copy of the Grateful Dead’s ‘Terrapin Station’ that I was given after putting a scratch into ‘Estimated Prophet’), and I remember seeing other covers that kind of scared me (David Grisman’s ‘Hot Dawg’, for some reason, terrified me as a little kid). But ‘London Calling’ was one that I remember staring at. I kept expecting the picture to move, and for the guitar to finally fall to the stage and shatter like glass (a vivid imagination… the result of smashing a bass onto a stage actually results in a rather clumsy situation) but on this cover there was so much potential for beautiful destruction. I can’t imagine that the moments after this picture was taken are in existence, and if they are I bet they aren’t as exciting as this one. And as I grew older and got into The Clash, this is also one of the albums (in it’s entirety) that I grew to like the most. How many double albums are in existence with such a high level of music on just about every track? I don’t really think there is a single throw-away or side filler on the record… and on top of that there is a GREAT hidden track! You get ‘London Calling’ all the way to ‘Revolution Rock’ which is a fabulous 18 songs… then there is ‘Train In Vain!’. Damn.

The copy of ‘Achtung Baby!’ I have is one of the first pressings, in the eco-friendly paper packaging. I’ll never forget a quote I heard by Bono shortly before the album came out. When asked about ‘the FLY’ (as it is printed on the CD track listing) he said ‘that’s the sound of four guys chopping down a Joshua Tree’. And if there is anything I respect the most about U2 up through and a bit past ‘Zooropa’, it was the fact that they weren’t afraid to strike out in new directions, even when popular trends would suggest doing the opposite. After the huge success of ‘Joshua Tree’ (and a little more of the same with ‘Rattle and Hum’, who would guess that the same band would come back with ‘Achtung Baby!’. And though ‘the FLY’ and ZOO station’ certainly seem to be a departure, ‘ONE’ certainly exists as a bridge between the two worlds, and ‘LOVE IS blindness’ with a little re-working certainly could have existed in that earlier world. But what I remember most about this album was the sense that it was pushing into some sort of unknown territory, and with that there could be excitement. Of course I later realized that the territory was well trod by others (and having Daniel Lanois, Brian Eno and Flood working on the production certainly helped with that).

Tamiko and I were able to get tickets to the Zoo TV tour. Cars hanging from the roof for spotlights, huge multi-screen television displays and all. It was great. The show was expected to sell out quickly, and I worked at Tower at the time, so I figured I had an in. I would show up at 6am (the earliest we usually allowed people to line up for tickets) and I would kick everyone out and grab a spot at the front of the line. Now in reality, this would have led to a pretty bad ass kicking for myself. Lucky for me, when I got to the store at 6am there was already a line of a few hundred people, and I wasn’t the first Tower employee to show up. All the store management was already there, and I went to stand in line like everyone else. I still got tickets (though not on the floor) and Tamiko and I saw a great concert (with the Pixies opening!!!). And in spite of the promise by the band to not play anything pre-‘Achtung Baby!’, we had some nice helpings of ‘Running To Stand Still’ (probably my favorite U2 song) as well as ‘Pride (In The Name Of Love)’ and ‘Where The Streets Have No Name’ (complete with ‘Rattle and Hum’ like strobe effects for the beginning of the song).

Finally – ‘Mother’s Milk’. First heard some track off of it on a band trip, and Dave Lasley had it on his portable CD player. Oooh… how I wanted a portable CD player back then. As the bus was moving, I would hear 20 seconds of a song… skip … 20 or so more seconds… but in between was some bass playing that Dave really admired, and it blew me away. So I decided to try and by the CD the next week and had to back off when I saw the cover. No way my parents were going to let me walk up to the register with a naked women conveniently holding 4 guys across her mid section. The disc had to wait until I was working (at Dairy Queen) and I had my own car to get me back and forth to the record store. Still an album that was very much worth the wait.  And damn it… now I can’t get ‘Magic Johnson’ out of my head again… ergh…

Day 84. Mozart.

Sunday, May 9th, 2010

Mira’s box-set fascination continues with the complete Mozart Piano Concertos (period instrument recordings with Malcom Bilson and John Eliot Gardiner). While Mozart’s symphonies are great pieces and are rightfully seen as a pillar in his oeuvre, along with his operas I see Mozart’s Piano Concertos as his most important works. Mostly because they are the most operatic of his purely instrumental works. The standards he helped set up and solidify for the classical concerto are on the same level as Haydn’s contribution to the sonata-allegro form. And the dramatic contrast of the soloist and the orchestra is developed to a very deep level. Since there is no text and they are more abstract then the operas, that these works have such strong dramatic form is even more impressive to me. And that the piano writing basically defines lyrical (for an instrument where the attack is so univocal) is even more impressive to me.

The first one I heard was on one of Tamiko’s Music History tapes (while I was still in high school and hadn’t heard much classical music yet). Number 20 in d minor is a pretty dark piece. Between that, what I had heard of the Requiem and snippets of the ‘Amadeus’ soundtrack, I though Mozart was one dark guy. Dark and intense! And while he does have those moments, that certainly isn’t the case for 95% of his music. So when he does write some dark music, it almost seems like he is saving it up. Mozart’s light is often quite pleasant, but when he gets dark he knew what he was doing.

I got the Bilson / Gardiner set after I knew Mozart’s work much better. I put on the disc with number 20 first and I was shocked at how different it sounded on the older instruments. The piano’s sound is thinner, and the thundering low octaves in parts of the first movement take on a different lyrical quality on the older instrument (where the octaves just help the line come out of the texture in a more balanced fashion. It was amazing to hear how much the same instruments (but in a much younger form) changed how a piece sounded. The music is intense in a different way. But with the older instruments the intensity actually works on a much more human level. Where on modern instruments it feels like the doom of the world, the older instruments make it feel like the doom of a man. The period instruments make the whole body of work more personal, and in some ways even more tragic. But it is also what makes the second movement even more beautiful. It is the voice of someone who has come through a storm. And it is strange to me that, at this more personal level, the works in general feel more universal.

Day 83. Corelli.

Saturday, May 8th, 2010

Corelli’s music (mostly summed up in six 12 piece collections) has resonated with me for some reason since I first heard it. During my History of Western Music classes at UC Berkeley, he was introduced just after Purcell’s drony Fantasias. Then, after Corelli we were given another example of Purcell’s music after he came into contact with Corelli’s music. The change is startling, and the difference comes from the strong tonal (dominant-tonic) structures that show up so distinctly in Corelli’s music. The strong dissonances in his counterpoint also struck my ears, and I remember heading to the record store that same day to see what there was. Eight discs. Op 1. through Op. 6. … 48 sonatas for two violins and continuo, 12 sonatas for violin and continuo and 12 concerti grossi.

And while I remember pretty clearly the first time I heard Corelli in class, the strongest memory I have of Corelli’s music comes from a drive up the California coast on Hwy. 1. One Friday afternoon after class at Berkeley I picked Tamiko up at work with enough clothes for the weekend, and headed for I-80 and the Bay Bridge. Tamiko had until we got to US 101 to decide if we would turn left or right, and Tamiko chose right (north) and we headed off toward the Golden Gate bridge. Once on the other side I would head toward Highway 1 and we would head north until we found a place to stay for the night. As luck would have it, I accidentally missed the turn-off for Highway 1 and we would up in Mill Valley (where the next weekend Tamiko and I would head for since we found it so cute… and eventually we decided that is where we would get married!). I eventually found my way to Highway 1, and we were driving past Stinson Beach as the sun was setting. We kept driving and as Bodega Bay, Corelli’s C minor Concerto (Op. 6 no. 3) was on the cd player. The driving rhythms seemed to match up with the moon flickering through the trees and reflecting off the water. It was a beautiful moment at the beginning of a great trip. Tamiko and I finally found a place to stay in Jenner (where the Russian River and the Pacific meet up)… it was a cabin with a piano, hot tub and a kitchen. The trip would continue up the coast to Mendocino and we got back to our apartment in Albany by Sunday night. And whenever I hear that concerto know, my memory of that trip comes right into my mind.

Day 82. Anonymous 4, Dufay Collective, Ensemble Organum and Fretwork.

Thursday, May 6th, 2010

The past couple of weeks have been very busy. I’ve been working with Richard Karpen on a couple of projects that involve a different approach to composing that involves a much more oral transmission of musical ideas to performers rather then a written medium. The results become pieces in much the same way that written scores do. For instance, we have started to notice with his guitar and electronics piece ‘Strand Lines’ written for Stefan Östersjö that there is a correct way to play the work as well as the danger of making mistakes. One of the conclusions Richard has come to as a result of this process is, if there can be mistakes and if there IS a right way to play the piece, then there must be a piece (even without it being written down).

The ephemeral quality of music in general (even when it has been written down, it is over once the air ceases to vibrate) is one of the most magical aspects of the medium. And tonight’s rips (recordings of music that is hundreds of year’s old) made me connect Richard’s music to how we choose to perform ‘ancient’ music. And in many ways, any music at all. The first disc was a collection by the Dufay Collective called ‘Music for Alfonso the Wise’. Alfonso being an Iberian king from the 13th century, and this collection is a reflection of of the music that was performed in his court. Sometimes the composer isn’t known, and I imagine all the instruments used for the performances are recreations of original instruments. When I was playing it in the background the other night, Tamiko asked if it was music from India, and sure enough once she said that I could hear the influences very clearly (not that this was music that was influence by the subcontinent in the 1200s, but that they must have some common ancestor, probably from the Middle East??? I really don’t know but am guessing). I also thought the Portland group ‘3 Leg Torso’ must get quite a bit from this kind of music. The instruments are more nasal string instruments and buzzy winds, and often have some thumpy drums as accompaniment.

Obviously, we have absolutely NO way to know exactly what this music sounded like, and I imagine there are a number of levels of translation between the written notation that does exist and what the performers on the disc are used to perform from. But I also imagine that with some practice and informed knowledge, these players are presenting (with modern fingers for modern ears) what we probably think the music may have sounded like. But I don’t think there is a belief on anyone’s part that what we are hearing is exactly what Alfonso the Wise would have been hearing. The musicians are creating now from a set of instructions what they can produce. They have direction, and need to shape what they can from the materials that they have. And once I find that I can accept what these ideas, I of course see that, really, this is what all music is. Richard’s work from the past couple weeks, when someone plays Beethoven, when someone uses a recording of a Stockhausen piece as part of their research into how to perform something or when a garage band gets together and starts off playing ‘Louie Louie’. What a great tradition to be part of… no?

So the rest of tonight’s rips are in this mode… music so old that we can’t even ask someone with connections of a couple generations back to its performance what they heard. Not that it would really matter… ask me what a concert a week ago sounded like, then ask someone else at the same concert and I think you would get two different takes on the performance, but when we are dealing with music that is 500 years old, I doubt we can find anyone around who can say ‘ah, yes, my grandfather heard that performed at the premiere and this is what he said it sounded like’ (this being a phrase that is not out of the question for Stravinsky or Debussy). The other discs are Anonymous 4’s ‘1000: A Mass for the End of Time’ (or the music that would have been around when people were worrying about the y1k bug, ‘La Bele Marie: Songs to the Virgin from 13th-century France’. Fretwork’s disc of Ottaviano dei Petrucci’s “Harmonice Musices Odhecaton” and Ensemble Organum’s ‘Le Chant des Templiers XIIè siècle : Manuscrit du Saint-Sépu’.

Pretty amazing that I can simply grab a disc with 0s and 1s on it and hear music performed that has over a 1000 years of history. I can only imagine what will happen by the year 3000.

Day 81. The Sugarcubes, The Cardigans and Frente!.

Wednesday, May 5th, 2010


Tonight’s rips were The Cardigans, Sugarcubes and Frente (or – somehow I randomly pulled out my favorite girl-fronted bands from the late 80s and early 90s). And actually, I can kind of chart a course through these CDs from high school (The Sugarcubes) into my last year at Tower in Sacramento (Frente) into my years in Berkeley (The Cardigans). Of the CDs I’m ripping tonight, the Frente album has probably not quite stood the test of time as well as the others, but the more acoustic hits on the disc (“Labour of Love” and their WONDERFUL cover of “Bizarre Love Triangle”) are great. But when I listened to the rest of the album recently, I was much more lukewarm about it. The Cardigans have pretty much shown up on my mix discs or stereo pretty regularly since I first heard them. While the cover of ‘Bizarre Love Triangle’ on Frente’s album is basically genius, the Cardigan’s cover of ‘Iron Man’ is on equal footing. What great covers of great songs.

The first Sugarcubes album though is still a favorite of mine. I first heard it with my friend Josh from high school (though I had heard “Birthday” before), and was even more impressed with the rest of the album. Unlike the quirkiness that Bjork would become in her solo career, the Sugarcubes had a different kind of quirkiness (along with a Johnny Marr like guitar sound, some trumpet and think Icelandic accents singing about sick toys). And what surprises me most (about some of those high school memories) is the fact that I could some how bounce between the Sugarcubes and Ministry and didn’t see anything wrong with that. When the girls get older and I start to prep them for the confusion that is adolescence, that may be one of the examples from mine… “Here is ‘Motorcrash’ by the Sugarcubes… fun, boppy… now, imagine your mood going from this to…” (and I put on ‘Stigmata’ by Ministry) “and believe it or not, you’ll think changes of mood like this are normal!’. Now – I need a couple days usually between switches like that, and I rarely feel the NEED for Ministry. But when I do hear them, for some reason I always lead back to the Sugarcubes and being a teenager… go figure.