Ah yes, the last resort of the blogger with nothing to blog about... a meme. The good old turn-on-music-player-of-choice-and-list-the-first-30-songs etc... It's been done, but hey, there are probably some interesting things buried in my library.
1. You Can Bring Your Dog (live in Philly) - Tori Amos
2. I Don't Love You - My Chemical Romance (The video for this is one big WTF moment. It probably wasn't their intent, but it cracks me up every time I see it, especially the girl with the freaky anime-huge eyes. And Gerard's emoting.)
3. We Never Change - Coldplay
4. Nina - The Fratellis
5. Love Turns 40 - Vienna Teng (See, this is good. I forgot how much I love this song...)
6. Flowers and Football Tops - Glasvegas (Depressing as hell. Oh wait, that's the whole album...)
7. Mary Blaize - Kate Rusby
8. Godspeed - Jenny Lewis
9. Instead of My Saints - Thea Gilmore
10. She Has No Time - Keane (Saw these guys live recently. Good show.)
11. What If - Emilie Autumn (The only thing that bothered me about Opheliac was the lack of songs like this. Just lovely.)
12. What's the Use of Wond'rin? - Amanda Palmer (Quietly pretty and utterly creepy at the same time. Kudos Amanda.)
13. How We Fight - The Animators
14. The Islander - Nightwish (Nightwish attempts to do Irish and halfway succeeds. Also serves as a reminder that oh yeah, Marco can actually sing.)
15. Famous Last Words (live) - My Chemical Romance (Talking of people who can actually sing, check the awesome backing vocals from Ray here. Way to hit the high notes, dude.)
16. Not Dying Today - Tori Amos ("Neil is thrilled he can claim he's mammalian/But the bad news he said girl you're a dandelion/Well I need to think about that/Well I thought about that and I said, what the hell?" My sentiments exactly, Tori. I think I might actually hate this song more than "Ireland," and that's saying something.)
17. Neverending Story - Within Temptation (Not one of my favs by them. It's cute and happy... therefore I usually skip it.)
18. Cemeteries of London - Coldplay
19. Precious Things (live from To Venus and Back) - Tori Amos (Tori is taking over this playlist. Luckily this is one of the best live renditions of this song maybe ever, though I also like the one from Sessions at West 54th.)
20. Neighborhood #4 (Kettles) - The Arcade Fire
21. Black Sand - Jenny Lewis
22. Bone Chaos in the Castle - Kaki King
23. Babydoll - The Fratellis (One of their more Beatles-esque moments. Which is a good thing.)
24. The Promise - Within Temptation (Why no more eight-minute epics on recent albums, WT? Although the incredibly fake horn samples at the beginning are somewhat cringe-inducing.)
25. Game Shows Touch Our Lives - The Mountain Goats (Thanks to Sam for pointing these guys out to me. Great lyrics.)
26. Ways & Means - Snow Patrol
27. Sunday's Waltz/Solo Double Oh - Solas
28. Amelia - Bell X1
29. Another Year - Amanda Palmer
30. On the Radio - Regina Spektor (One of the most cheerful songs about death I've ever heard.)
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Abnormally attracted to... mediocrity?
Let me say this first: I'm a fan of Tori Amos. True, I don't happen to think she's a goddess and I don't take her half as seriously as most of her fanbase does, but I do appreciate her music and I enjoy listening to or reading her interviews because she sometimes has interesting things to say about music (and often befuddles the interviewer, which is always fun to watch).
Sadly, Tori albums tend to be hit-or-miss affairs these days. She hasn't produced really great albums for a long time. To be fair, there were some great tracks on those albums, but they were ultimately overpowered by the mediocrity. Her latest, Abnormally Attracted to Sin, continues this unfortunate trend. If she wants to reverse it and start making good albums again, there are two things she's got to work on.
Number one: as another pianist and singer-songwriter says, "You can write, but you can't edit." Tori can't edit. At 17 tracks, AATS is shorter than the 23-track behemoth that is American Doll Posse, but it's still needlessly bloated. Tori has to figure out that sometimes less really is more. In my opinion, her best album was From the Choirgirl Hotel. It only had 12 tracks, but not one of them was a throwaway. In contrast, half the stuff on AATS could easily be labeled "filler." Just like her previous two albums, there are some great songs here. The shimmering, spare "Flavor," the powerful piano outro of "Lady in Blue," the quirky "That Guy" and a few others are all proof of that. But because she either can't or won't edit herself, the good ones get buried beneath tracks like the trite "500 Miles" or the chaotic mess that is "Police Me." Please, Tori, either get better at editing yourself or get somebody who isn't afraid to say no to you.
Number two: be more genuine. This album is a tired rehashing of every theme she's ever covered. I cringe every time I hear "Strong Black Vine" because it's exactly the kind of song that Tori has done to death. It's a paint-by-numbers "the patriarchy is evil" song, a pale imitation of something like "God" from Under the Pink. Where "God" was intriguing and powerful, "Strong Black Vine" falls flat because of its utter predictability. Sorry, but singing about saving soldiers from their "evil faith" is no longer shocking. Try again.
I get the sense listening to this album that Tori's gotten stuck in the mold of her image: I am Tori Amos therefore I must write about feminism and religion and spirituality. I'm not saying she should suppress or change her beliefs, but writing about them isn't convincing if there's no emotion behind it, and these songs, to me, often feel emotionally lifeless. The "visualettes" she released with each track on the album, in which she parades about in wigs and couture looking bored, add to the impression that her heart's not really in it. Choirgirl wasn't a great album just because it was short. She was going through a difficult and painful time in her life when she recorded it, and you could feel that emotion clearly in the music. On AATS, it sounds like she's phoning it in. Let's be clear here: I have no desire to see Tori suffer for her art, but I'd like to see some honesty.
So please, Tori... take the wigs off.
Sadly, Tori albums tend to be hit-or-miss affairs these days. She hasn't produced really great albums for a long time. To be fair, there were some great tracks on those albums, but they were ultimately overpowered by the mediocrity. Her latest, Abnormally Attracted to Sin, continues this unfortunate trend. If she wants to reverse it and start making good albums again, there are two things she's got to work on.
Number one: as another pianist and singer-songwriter says, "You can write, but you can't edit." Tori can't edit. At 17 tracks, AATS is shorter than the 23-track behemoth that is American Doll Posse, but it's still needlessly bloated. Tori has to figure out that sometimes less really is more. In my opinion, her best album was From the Choirgirl Hotel. It only had 12 tracks, but not one of them was a throwaway. In contrast, half the stuff on AATS could easily be labeled "filler." Just like her previous two albums, there are some great songs here. The shimmering, spare "Flavor," the powerful piano outro of "Lady in Blue," the quirky "That Guy" and a few others are all proof of that. But because she either can't or won't edit herself, the good ones get buried beneath tracks like the trite "500 Miles" or the chaotic mess that is "Police Me." Please, Tori, either get better at editing yourself or get somebody who isn't afraid to say no to you.
Number two: be more genuine. This album is a tired rehashing of every theme she's ever covered. I cringe every time I hear "Strong Black Vine" because it's exactly the kind of song that Tori has done to death. It's a paint-by-numbers "the patriarchy is evil" song, a pale imitation of something like "God" from Under the Pink. Where "God" was intriguing and powerful, "Strong Black Vine" falls flat because of its utter predictability. Sorry, but singing about saving soldiers from their "evil faith" is no longer shocking. Try again.
I get the sense listening to this album that Tori's gotten stuck in the mold of her image: I am Tori Amos therefore I must write about feminism and religion and spirituality. I'm not saying she should suppress or change her beliefs, but writing about them isn't convincing if there's no emotion behind it, and these songs, to me, often feel emotionally lifeless. The "visualettes" she released with each track on the album, in which she parades about in wigs and couture looking bored, add to the impression that her heart's not really in it. Choirgirl wasn't a great album just because it was short. She was going through a difficult and painful time in her life when she recorded it, and you could feel that emotion clearly in the music. On AATS, it sounds like she's phoning it in. Let's be clear here: I have no desire to see Tori suffer for her art, but I'd like to see some honesty.
So please, Tori... take the wigs off.
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
It must be summer
Ping!
It's three forty-five in the morning, and with that sound I'm instantly awake, if not precisely alert, and already well on my way to being really cranky.
I know that sound came from my harp, but I don't immediately understand how. For a moment I think stupidly of bugs careening into the soundboard, then of a scene in The Haunting in which a harp begins to play by itself. Then I realize a) I'm being an idiot, b) the air conditioning isn't on yet, and c) I left the window open.
Grumbling, I heave myself out of bed and shuffle over to the harp, knowing already what I'll find. Yep, here it is... the remains of a broken string, up near the top. I've been lucky with this harp - I've had it for about five years and this is only the second broken string I've had. Strings always break sooner or later, sometimes because of the wear and tear of playing and sometimes because of fluctuations in temperature. (Apparently it was the latter that did in this one.) So it's a perfectly natural thing for a string to do. It's merely unfortunate that it reached the breaking point so early in the morning.
Makes a hell of an alarm clock, though.
It's three forty-five in the morning, and with that sound I'm instantly awake, if not precisely alert, and already well on my way to being really cranky.
I know that sound came from my harp, but I don't immediately understand how. For a moment I think stupidly of bugs careening into the soundboard, then of a scene in The Haunting in which a harp begins to play by itself. Then I realize a) I'm being an idiot, b) the air conditioning isn't on yet, and c) I left the window open.
Grumbling, I heave myself out of bed and shuffle over to the harp, knowing already what I'll find. Yep, here it is... the remains of a broken string, up near the top. I've been lucky with this harp - I've had it for about five years and this is only the second broken string I've had. Strings always break sooner or later, sometimes because of the wear and tear of playing and sometimes because of fluctuations in temperature. (Apparently it was the latter that did in this one.) So it's a perfectly natural thing for a string to do. It's merely unfortunate that it reached the breaking point so early in the morning.
Makes a hell of an alarm clock, though.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
When fandoms collide
Okay, so most people who know me know that I'm kind of a huge fan of My Chemical Romance. No, I am not a teenager. Yes, I know many people hate them. If the first word that comes to mind when you think of them is "emo," you needn't bother reading this.
However, I am an even bigger fan of Final Fantasy VII. Yes, the original but no, not necessarily the endless stream of sequels Square-Enix keeps spawning. Yes, I saw Advent Children, which in terms of graphics was extremely pretty, but in terms of story did not make a whole lot of sense to me.
So maybe you can imagine my extreme fangirlishness (is that a word?) when I discovered that Gerard Way was collaborating with Kyosuke Himuro for the ending theme of the upcoming Blu-ray rerelease of Advent Children. Then this morning I woke up to find that the music video had surfaced...
Truth is, I'm a bit "meh" when it comes to the actual video. Not the old "rock star in a desert" cliche again... although G actually does attempt to wear leather jackets while performing in 90-something-degree heat. I know because I saw him do this at Projekt Revolution last year. (He then promptly threw up. I can only hope it taught him a lesson.) However, the thrill of seeing the lead singer of one of my favorite bands performing a song for a game I have loved since I was thirteen pretty much makes up for the generic video. I want this song on my iPod... now.
Edit: NHK pulled the video. That was fast.
However, I am an even bigger fan of Final Fantasy VII. Yes, the original but no, not necessarily the endless stream of sequels Square-Enix keeps spawning. Yes, I saw Advent Children, which in terms of graphics was extremely pretty, but in terms of story did not make a whole lot of sense to me.
So maybe you can imagine my extreme fangirlishness (is that a word?) when I discovered that Gerard Way was collaborating with Kyosuke Himuro for the ending theme of the upcoming Blu-ray rerelease of Advent Children. Then this morning I woke up to find that the music video had surfaced...
Truth is, I'm a bit "meh" when it comes to the actual video. Not the old "rock star in a desert" cliche again... although G actually does attempt to wear leather jackets while performing in 90-something-degree heat. I know because I saw him do this at Projekt Revolution last year. (He then promptly threw up. I can only hope it taught him a lesson.) However, the thrill of seeing the lead singer of one of my favorite bands performing a song for a game I have loved since I was thirteen pretty much makes up for the generic video. I want this song on my iPod... now.
Edit: NHK pulled the video. That was fast.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Why you should listen to the openers
So I went to see Vienna Teng last night, and she was great as usual. I'm really liking some of the rearrangements she's doing with her old stuff. Gravity sure sounded different the first time I heard her play it in 2003-ish... she's come pretty far since then. Now she's got openers instead of being the opener. Which leads me to my main point...
One of the openers last night was Ben Sollee, who I'd never heard of but turned out to be the kind of performer that makes you want to roll over and give up whatever you're playing because you will never in a million years be that good. Okay, so maybe that's just me. But seriously, the guy has scary skills on cello and a great voice to boot. Check it out:
People who do unconventional things with traditional instruments make me happy. :)
Check out Vienna's scrapbook for a look at how she and her crew met up with Ben.
Also go and check out The Paper Raincoat, Alex Wong's current project with Amber Rubarth, especially a charming tune called "Sympathetic Vibrations," which sounds like the quirky little cousin of Regina Spektor's "Fidelity." It's downright impossible to listen to without bopping your head. (This is what I'm currently doing, with a very silly face indeed.) I'm quite looking forward to their full-length album now... especially to this song, which they have said will be on it.
One of the openers last night was Ben Sollee, who I'd never heard of but turned out to be the kind of performer that makes you want to roll over and give up whatever you're playing because you will never in a million years be that good. Okay, so maybe that's just me. But seriously, the guy has scary skills on cello and a great voice to boot. Check it out:
People who do unconventional things with traditional instruments make me happy. :)
Check out Vienna's scrapbook for a look at how she and her crew met up with Ben.
Also go and check out The Paper Raincoat, Alex Wong's current project with Amber Rubarth, especially a charming tune called "Sympathetic Vibrations," which sounds like the quirky little cousin of Regina Spektor's "Fidelity." It's downright impossible to listen to without bopping your head. (This is what I'm currently doing, with a very silly face indeed.) I'm quite looking forward to their full-length album now... especially to this song, which they have said will be on it.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Review of Vienna Teng's Inland Territory
Since her 2002 debut, Waking Hour, pianist, singer and songwriter Vienna Teng has been quietly releasing intelligent, introspective albums of chamber pop to critical acclaim and an ever-growing base of loyal fans. Is her latest release, Inland Territory, more of the same? Yes and no.
The wide range of themes covered here is nothing unusual for Teng. She continues to examine such issues as politics, immigration, the environment, war… and relationships, of course… with her usual lyrical flair. Her writing is as sharp and insightful as ever, with occasional flashes of wry humor. As with all good songwriters, Teng has a unique way of looking at the world, and in Inland Territory she continues this tradition.
In terms of sound, however, she’s grown considerably more adventurous—and this is a good thing. The most common criticism of her 2006 release, Dreaming Through the Noise, was that songs tended to meld together because the instrumentation and arrangements were too similar. No such problem here. This is due in part to her new producer, Alex Wong, formerly of The Animators, and in part to the group of gifted musicians she’s brought on board—some members of her touring band, some not.
The opening track, “The Last Snowfall,” is a perfect example of the musical collaboration that characterizes this album. Producer Wong uses the sound of crackling record static as a percussion loop, which serves as a backdrop for the simple lyrics: “If this were the last snowfall/No more haloes on evergreens/If this were my last glimpse of winter/What would these eyes see?” For the wordless, soaring refrain, Teng’s soft soprano is joined by fellow singer-songwriters Odessa Chen, Noe Venable and Ari Hest, and the effect created by their combined voices is nothing short of magical. Guitar virtuoso Kaki King lends her talents to the Latin-influenced “No Gringo” as well as the ethereal soundscape of the closer, “St. Stephen’s Cross,” in which Teng multi-tracks her vocals to create the effect of a choir. Some songs, like “Stray Italian Greyhound” and “Antebellum,” with their slow builds and lush string arrangements, wouldn’t sound out of place in a film soundtrack. At the other end of the musical spectrum are songs like the edgy, guitar-driven “White Light” and the rollicking “Grandmother Song,” in which Teng sings about the family conflicts created by her musical career over handclaps and fiddle: “Oh girl your story’s all wrong/Your dream’ll be a nightmare before too long/Turning thirty and still trying to sing your songs/Come on who do you think you are?”
Unless she chooses to share it in song, we’ll probably never know exactly who Vienna Teng thinks she is. However, it’s clear that many critics and many fans think she is an immensely talented musician and songwriter, and Inland Territory is proof not only of her technical skill but also of her willingness to experiment with her sound and challenge herself.
Visit her web site or Myspace for song samples and upcoming US tour dates. Also check out the Inland Territory EPK for a behind-the-scenes look at the new album.
The wide range of themes covered here is nothing unusual for Teng. She continues to examine such issues as politics, immigration, the environment, war… and relationships, of course… with her usual lyrical flair. Her writing is as sharp and insightful as ever, with occasional flashes of wry humor. As with all good songwriters, Teng has a unique way of looking at the world, and in Inland Territory she continues this tradition.
In terms of sound, however, she’s grown considerably more adventurous—and this is a good thing. The most common criticism of her 2006 release, Dreaming Through the Noise, was that songs tended to meld together because the instrumentation and arrangements were too similar. No such problem here. This is due in part to her new producer, Alex Wong, formerly of The Animators, and in part to the group of gifted musicians she’s brought on board—some members of her touring band, some not.
The opening track, “The Last Snowfall,” is a perfect example of the musical collaboration that characterizes this album. Producer Wong uses the sound of crackling record static as a percussion loop, which serves as a backdrop for the simple lyrics: “If this were the last snowfall/No more haloes on evergreens/If this were my last glimpse of winter/What would these eyes see?” For the wordless, soaring refrain, Teng’s soft soprano is joined by fellow singer-songwriters Odessa Chen, Noe Venable and Ari Hest, and the effect created by their combined voices is nothing short of magical. Guitar virtuoso Kaki King lends her talents to the Latin-influenced “No Gringo” as well as the ethereal soundscape of the closer, “St. Stephen’s Cross,” in which Teng multi-tracks her vocals to create the effect of a choir. Some songs, like “Stray Italian Greyhound” and “Antebellum,” with their slow builds and lush string arrangements, wouldn’t sound out of place in a film soundtrack. At the other end of the musical spectrum are songs like the edgy, guitar-driven “White Light” and the rollicking “Grandmother Song,” in which Teng sings about the family conflicts created by her musical career over handclaps and fiddle: “Oh girl your story’s all wrong/Your dream’ll be a nightmare before too long/Turning thirty and still trying to sing your songs/Come on who do you think you are?”
Unless she chooses to share it in song, we’ll probably never know exactly who Vienna Teng thinks she is. However, it’s clear that many critics and many fans think she is an immensely talented musician and songwriter, and Inland Territory is proof not only of her technical skill but also of her willingness to experiment with her sound and challenge herself.
Visit her web site or Myspace for song samples and upcoming US tour dates. Also check out the Inland Territory EPK for a behind-the-scenes look at the new album.
You know you're a musician when...?
Hello, internet. Long time no post. I've been busy with school and so not playing much lately. However, I figured that as long as I wasn't playing I might as well listen to other people play, so I've been catching quite a bit of live music at XPN's Free at Noon shows over the last few weeks. If you're in the Philly area, these shows are every Friday and also, as you may have noted from the name... free. So if you're like me and, well, everybody else in the country right now, trying to save money, scoot on over to one of these. It's a great way to find out about new music. (Case in point: Bell X1. Saw them a couple of weeks ago and wound up snagging a copy of their new album, Blue Lights on the Runway, which they very nicely signed for me.) And if you don't like what you hear, then at least you haven't wasted money on a ticket, right?
I've noticed recently that in certain hands anything can become a musical instrument. (If you're a drummer or you know one, you probably already know that a steering wheel is one of these things.) A couple of weeks ago I went to the mall with one of my friends and her younger sister. We stopped in Sephora to help said sister pick out makeup for the prom, and I figured I'd pick up a couple of things I was running out of while I was there. They were playing the sort of nondescript, booming gym music they always seem to play in mall stores, and while we were standing in line I absentmindedly started tapping the box I was holding against my palm in a kind of syncopated beat. You can take the instrument away from the musician, but you can't... never mind, that doesn't quite work, but you get the idea.
I've noticed recently that in certain hands anything can become a musical instrument. (If you're a drummer or you know one, you probably already know that a steering wheel is one of these things.) A couple of weeks ago I went to the mall with one of my friends and her younger sister. We stopped in Sephora to help said sister pick out makeup for the prom, and I figured I'd pick up a couple of things I was running out of while I was there. They were playing the sort of nondescript, booming gym music they always seem to play in mall stores, and while we were standing in line I absentmindedly started tapping the box I was holding against my palm in a kind of syncopated beat. You can take the instrument away from the musician, but you can't... never mind, that doesn't quite work, but you get the idea.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
The joys of tuning
Q: How long does a harp stay in tune?
A: Twenty minutes, or until someone opens a door.
I've been neglecting my practicing of late as fall semester is coming to an end. (I have also been neglecting other normal day-to-day activities like eating and sleeping.) However, there is another reason I've been avoiding it... winter means chilly temperatures, and chilly temperatures mean uncooperative strings.
I'll admit it: I whine like a little kid when it comes to tuning. I know it's necessary, but it can be such a pain. During the winter I approach tuning with an even deeper sense of futility than usual, knowing the cold will wreak havoc with my strings. It's almost certain that once I've gotten the top C string in tune, the bottom one will have gone flat again.
But I think I'm starting to get the hang of it now. (She said, after five years of lessons...) When I started, I was just plain lazy about it. I would spend time practicing, but I never tuned it regularly. There were times I would leave it untuned for weeks in a row, which I now know is not good for the soundboard. Shame on me. Then on the few occasions I played in public I would freak out because I couldn't get it in tune fast enough, and naturally it wouldn't sound right with the other instruments that were in tune. (Well, duh.)
By this point, I have at least gotten into the habit of tuning it, if not every day, then at least every time I practice. I'm trying to stop looking at it as a chore and think of it as learning how to get my harp to sound its best no matter what the circumstances are.
A: Twenty minutes, or until someone opens a door.
I've been neglecting my practicing of late as fall semester is coming to an end. (I have also been neglecting other normal day-to-day activities like eating and sleeping.) However, there is another reason I've been avoiding it... winter means chilly temperatures, and chilly temperatures mean uncooperative strings.
I'll admit it: I whine like a little kid when it comes to tuning. I know it's necessary, but it can be such a pain. During the winter I approach tuning with an even deeper sense of futility than usual, knowing the cold will wreak havoc with my strings. It's almost certain that once I've gotten the top C string in tune, the bottom one will have gone flat again.
But I think I'm starting to get the hang of it now. (She said, after five years of lessons...) When I started, I was just plain lazy about it. I would spend time practicing, but I never tuned it regularly. There were times I would leave it untuned for weeks in a row, which I now know is not good for the soundboard. Shame on me. Then on the few occasions I played in public I would freak out because I couldn't get it in tune fast enough, and naturally it wouldn't sound right with the other instruments that were in tune. (Well, duh.)
By this point, I have at least gotten into the habit of tuning it, if not every day, then at least every time I practice. I'm trying to stop looking at it as a chore and think of it as learning how to get my harp to sound its best no matter what the circumstances are.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
A miscellaneous little mix tape
I always love reading or hearing about what my favorite musicians are listening to, because they often have some really interesting things to say about why they like it. Vienna Teng made a post a few years ago back when she had first started her blog (her scrapbook, she calls it) in which she listed tracks she might include on a mix tape for anyone reading. I think you see where this is leading... although, unlike Vienna, I can't claim to have played with all the people who recorded these songs. (Lucky her.)
1. Emilie Autumn, "Manic Depression": Emilie is one of my absolute favorite artists because it is so very tricky to pigeonhole her. Her lyrics are always sharp and witty, but she's always experimenting with her singing style. However, this song features neither her lyrics nor her voice, but rather her prowess on the electric violin: this girl can shred.
2. Snow Patrol, "If There's a Rocket Tie Me to It": Snow Patrol is one of those bands whose albums I have always meant to buy and never got around to it. However, I may now just have to give in and snag a copy of A Hundred Million Suns. I heard this one morning on XPN a few weeks ago during the drive to work. I love the energy and the rhythm of it, but it was the lyrics that caught my ear--they're unusually vivid and visual.
A fire, a fire/You can only take what you can carry/A pulse, your pulse/It's the only thing I can remember/I break, you don't/I was always set to self destruct though/The fire, the fire/It cracks and barks like primal music
3. Kaki King, "Doing the Wrong Thing": The word virtuoso always gets tossed around when people talk about Kaki because of her acoustic guitar skills, but she's definitely branched out since her first album. She creates soundscapes--I can't think of a better way to put it. Her songs may not always have words that stick in my head or a melody I can tap my foot to, but they take me somewhere else. The inside of her head must be an interesting place.
4. Gillian Grassie, "Tamlin": When I looked at who Gillian listed in her influences and saw the title of this song, I admit I leaped to conclusions and assumed it was going to be some kind of Loreena McKennitt imitation, but she takes the traditional folktale and twists it around into something entirely unexpected and original.
Do you ever get that feeling of being infinite and small?/Like you're everything and nothing at all?/My love has become a burning coal/And I'm not sure I can hold/My love, he's become a glowing coal/And he burns me/And I hold
5. The Fratellis, "Milk and Money": Ah yes, another one of my very favorite bands. This is the last song on their second album, Here We Stand, and I was lucky enough to hear it live when I saw them a few months ago. Some critics haven't been that kind to this album, but I think it shows how much they've grown since Costello Music. To me, it's songs like this that prove they're much more than "that band that plays Chelsea Dagger."
And the last chance girl in the first dance swirl/Lays her head down on the wooden floor/Won't be dancing anymore/And where do they go when the thrills have gone?/And the last song plays down at babylon/Five hundred kids shout what's the deal?/It's a very confusing way to feel
6. The Animators, "Good to Be Here": I wish I'd gotten the chance to see these guys before they broke up, but at least they left behind them two albums of good solid power pop available for free download on their web site. One of the things I really liked about them was that so many of their songs were little stories, like this one.
I woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling/Look who's back, I saw the doctor smile/Careful, we almost thought we'd lost you for a while/Cecilia was the last thing I remember/On the radio of the overturned car/How long have I been here?/I can't feel a thing/But I think I'm all right
7. Coldplay, "Cemeteries of London": I started listening to Coldplay much later than everybody else did. I got Viva La Vida three or four months after it was released, and enjoyed it much more than I expected. I really like the rhythm section in this tune and the lyrics, which seem like a departure for them in that they're not relationship-focused. Plus, I happened to be reading The Graveyard Book at the time, and this went very nicely as background music.
At night they would go walking 'til the breaking of the day/The morning is for sleeping/Through the dark streets they go searching to seek God in their own way/Save the nighttime for your weeping/Your weeping
8. Solas, "Vital Mental Medicine/The Pullet": With For Love and Laughter, the most recent addition to Solas's discography, Seamus Egan continues his tradition of doing scary things with a banjo, as well as his tradition of giving his original instrumentals puzzling and improbable titles. Personally, I still want to know what "Coconut Dog" is all about...
1. Emilie Autumn, "Manic Depression": Emilie is one of my absolute favorite artists because it is so very tricky to pigeonhole her. Her lyrics are always sharp and witty, but she's always experimenting with her singing style. However, this song features neither her lyrics nor her voice, but rather her prowess on the electric violin: this girl can shred.
2. Snow Patrol, "If There's a Rocket Tie Me to It": Snow Patrol is one of those bands whose albums I have always meant to buy and never got around to it. However, I may now just have to give in and snag a copy of A Hundred Million Suns. I heard this one morning on XPN a few weeks ago during the drive to work. I love the energy and the rhythm of it, but it was the lyrics that caught my ear--they're unusually vivid and visual.
A fire, a fire/You can only take what you can carry/A pulse, your pulse/It's the only thing I can remember/I break, you don't/I was always set to self destruct though/The fire, the fire/It cracks and barks like primal music
3. Kaki King, "Doing the Wrong Thing": The word virtuoso always gets tossed around when people talk about Kaki because of her acoustic guitar skills, but she's definitely branched out since her first album. She creates soundscapes--I can't think of a better way to put it. Her songs may not always have words that stick in my head or a melody I can tap my foot to, but they take me somewhere else. The inside of her head must be an interesting place.
4. Gillian Grassie, "Tamlin": When I looked at who Gillian listed in her influences and saw the title of this song, I admit I leaped to conclusions and assumed it was going to be some kind of Loreena McKennitt imitation, but she takes the traditional folktale and twists it around into something entirely unexpected and original.
Do you ever get that feeling of being infinite and small?/Like you're everything and nothing at all?/My love has become a burning coal/And I'm not sure I can hold/My love, he's become a glowing coal/And he burns me/And I hold
5. The Fratellis, "Milk and Money": Ah yes, another one of my very favorite bands. This is the last song on their second album, Here We Stand, and I was lucky enough to hear it live when I saw them a few months ago. Some critics haven't been that kind to this album, but I think it shows how much they've grown since Costello Music. To me, it's songs like this that prove they're much more than "that band that plays Chelsea Dagger."
And the last chance girl in the first dance swirl/Lays her head down on the wooden floor/Won't be dancing anymore/And where do they go when the thrills have gone?/And the last song plays down at babylon/Five hundred kids shout what's the deal?/It's a very confusing way to feel
6. The Animators, "Good to Be Here": I wish I'd gotten the chance to see these guys before they broke up, but at least they left behind them two albums of good solid power pop available for free download on their web site. One of the things I really liked about them was that so many of their songs were little stories, like this one.
I woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling/Look who's back, I saw the doctor smile/Careful, we almost thought we'd lost you for a while/Cecilia was the last thing I remember/On the radio of the overturned car/How long have I been here?/I can't feel a thing/But I think I'm all right
7. Coldplay, "Cemeteries of London": I started listening to Coldplay much later than everybody else did. I got Viva La Vida three or four months after it was released, and enjoyed it much more than I expected. I really like the rhythm section in this tune and the lyrics, which seem like a departure for them in that they're not relationship-focused. Plus, I happened to be reading The Graveyard Book at the time, and this went very nicely as background music.
At night they would go walking 'til the breaking of the day/The morning is for sleeping/Through the dark streets they go searching to seek God in their own way/Save the nighttime for your weeping/Your weeping
8. Solas, "Vital Mental Medicine/The Pullet": With For Love and Laughter, the most recent addition to Solas's discography, Seamus Egan continues his tradition of doing scary things with a banjo, as well as his tradition of giving his original instrumentals puzzling and improbable titles. Personally, I still want to know what "Coconut Dog" is all about...
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Shaky fingers
Browsing a thread on Harp Column just now, I came across this post dated a few days ago. And it sounded very familiar...
"Help! I got roped into playing my harp at a small church function in a few days. I still classify myself as a beginner/intermediate, but I've never played for anyone. When I play this little Christmas carol alone, I do fine, but when I try to play in front of a friend or relative, I stumble and draw blanks. I'm afraid I'm going to make a fool of myself in front of a crowd. Tried to get out of it and told them I wasn't accomplished enough, but they wouldn't take no for an answer. Any words of comfort?"
My heart goes out to this person. Why? Because I am this person. Well, okay, not literally, but the situation is very, very similar. I almost never play in public because of this very same problem. I've got a bad case of stage fright where harp is concerned and have never quite gotten over it. I also used to get performance anxiety when I first started flute, but I got over it pretty quickly and played it in public (at church, mostly) for years without problems.
I'm not sure why it's so different with harp, but I can make an educated guess. Maybe it's because I started it pretty late, maybe it's because there are those pesky chords to deal with instead of just a straight melody line, but I'd be willing to bet that it's because I'm just not as confident in my ability. (And, frankly, I could stand to practice more.) Whenever I try to play in public, the fear that it won't be good enough is always lurking in the back of my mind. (Perfectionist, anyone?)
I do feel really sorry for the people who actually get sick from nerves, but that isn't my problem. When I get nervous, my hands shake like crazy, and as you might imagine, those strings suddenly become much harder to get hold of and my fingers just skitter right off them. That's so annoying that I'd honestly be relieved if I just got sick before I played. Then at least it would be out of my system, so to speak. (There are probably better ways of expressing that. Sorry.)
I wish there was a tidy way to tie this post up. I could tell a story about how I found a miraculous cure for this problem, but I'd be lying. I don't think I'll ever get rid of my nerves, not entirely anyway, so I guess the best I can do is figure out how to fake it.
Learning how to stop flinching whenever I make a mistake would be a start...
"Help! I got roped into playing my harp at a small church function in a few days. I still classify myself as a beginner/intermediate, but I've never played for anyone. When I play this little Christmas carol alone, I do fine, but when I try to play in front of a friend or relative, I stumble and draw blanks. I'm afraid I'm going to make a fool of myself in front of a crowd. Tried to get out of it and told them I wasn't accomplished enough, but they wouldn't take no for an answer. Any words of comfort?"
My heart goes out to this person. Why? Because I am this person. Well, okay, not literally, but the situation is very, very similar. I almost never play in public because of this very same problem. I've got a bad case of stage fright where harp is concerned and have never quite gotten over it. I also used to get performance anxiety when I first started flute, but I got over it pretty quickly and played it in public (at church, mostly) for years without problems.
I'm not sure why it's so different with harp, but I can make an educated guess. Maybe it's because I started it pretty late, maybe it's because there are those pesky chords to deal with instead of just a straight melody line, but I'd be willing to bet that it's because I'm just not as confident in my ability. (And, frankly, I could stand to practice more.) Whenever I try to play in public, the fear that it won't be good enough is always lurking in the back of my mind. (Perfectionist, anyone?)
I do feel really sorry for the people who actually get sick from nerves, but that isn't my problem. When I get nervous, my hands shake like crazy, and as you might imagine, those strings suddenly become much harder to get hold of and my fingers just skitter right off them. That's so annoying that I'd honestly be relieved if I just got sick before I played. Then at least it would be out of my system, so to speak. (There are probably better ways of expressing that. Sorry.)
I wish there was a tidy way to tie this post up. I could tell a story about how I found a miraculous cure for this problem, but I'd be lying. I don't think I'll ever get rid of my nerves, not entirely anyway, so I guess the best I can do is figure out how to fake it.
Learning how to stop flinching whenever I make a mistake would be a start...
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