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Reviews: #21: Tori Amos, from the choirgirl hotel #22: Louis Andriessen, De Staat #23: Louis Andriessen, Zilver #24: Louis Andriessen, De Stijl / M is for Man, Music, Mozart #25: The Annoying Music Show's Annoying Music Show Holiday CD! #26: Aphex Twin, Selected Ambient Works, Vol. 2 #27: Aphex Twin, Come to Daddy #28: Apocalyptica, Inquisition Symphony #29: Apocalyptica, Cult #29a: Hans Appelqvist, Sifanten Och Mörkret #30: Fiona Apple, Tidal #21:
Tori Amos, "from the choirgirl hotel" 1) Spark Under the Pink and Boys for Pele begin and end with the piano on its own. So it's a significant statement when Tori starts from the choirgirl hotel with a four-piece rock band -- the piano doesn't enter until the chorus of the first song. She's telling us she's tired of being identified so closely with the piano, that she wants to do something different as a musician[1]. Does it work? Well, yes and no. On Boys for Pele her music was starting to go in two different directions: one intensely introspective, almost stream-of-consciousness personal, the other more pop-based and expansive. from the choirgirl hotel leans strongly towards the latter, and loses something as a result. She remains an excellent musician, and so the album is still well-crafted and polished...but something's missing. Many of the things I loved most about her music are no longer present: her willingness to experiment with contrapuntal textures, unusual harmonies, epic and idiosyncratic arrangements[2] is nearly absent; and the intimacy of her earlier songs is completely gone. There are still tracks I love; in particular, the desperation of "i i e e e", the murkiness of "Liquid Diamonds", and "Pandora's Aquarium"[3]. Turning towards more conventional pop
made her music more...well...conventional, bland, sanitized. It's
certainly possible that she felt the need to consolidate her skills in
this new arena before stretching its boundaries. But despite some
admittedly gorgeous moments, the CD feels disappointing, like a medical
school graduate deciding to work as a short-order cook. (1) It's my understanding that she's on the record as saying she felt she took the "girl with a piano" thing as far as she could. (2) Though her pleasingly slippery approach to rhythm and meter remains. (3) Maybe because it seems it could go on Under the Pink. #22:
Louis Andriessen, "De Staat" De
Staat (1973-1976), performed by The Schoenberg Ensemble;
Reinbert de Leeuw, conductor Though Louis Andriessen is Dutch, his music is closely aligned with American minimalism with its focus on pulse, rhythmic energy, repetition, and pandiatonic harmony, and its use of highly idiosyncratic instrumental forces, including electric instruments. His favorite techniques are the use of hocket, and multiple voices in very close canon, creating what amounts to a "smeared" melody. De Staat is a setting of sections of Plato's Republic for chamber orchestra, based on the idea of four: it is written for four women's voices, four oboes, four trumpets, four horns, four trombones, two harps and two electric guitars[1], and four violas; and one electric bass. I hear pianos as well, but they're not listed in the CD booklet -- my guess is they're substituting for the harps. Each section focuses on a single tetrachord, a set of four pitches, and usually features the instruments as groups rather than as individuals; for example, the opening features the four oboes, the next section the four trombones, etc., which gives each section a monolithic feel. My guess is that Andriessen was strongly influenced by gamelan music, in nearly every aspect of its construction. One of the things that distinguishes Andriessen from his American colleagues is a more directed sense of form; rather than focusing on gradual process to determine both the development of musical material and the structure of a piece, in De Staat he will meditate on a very static set of ideas with little variation, then suddenly switch to another, towards an intentioned dramatic goal. It's an epic piece, about 35 minutes long, so I won't go into a blow-by-blow account. Its basic structure consists of three distinct vocal sections bridged by long sequences of instrumental interludes which range from the serene to the poundingly energetic. My favorites are the sung parts, in particular the women's first entrance: a heavy, pounding quartet of trombones is suddenly replaced by singers, electric guitars (without distortion), and "harps", all in the middle-high register, and it's a magical and surprising revelation, like the moment the airplane leaves the ground. De
Staat is a great and groundbreaking piece; its premiere signaled
the presence one of Europe's first great minimalists, with his own
unique voice within the genre. It's not perfect; the static nature of
each individual section starts to feel a bit cumbersome, and the
frequent use of brass[2] in close harmony starts to feel like ponderous
bleating after a while. But at its best, it's luminous and exciting,
like nothing else in the world. (1) The two guitars and two harps are generally used as a grouping of four. (2) Who make up nearly half the ensemble, and are often being pushed to (and past) the limit of their agility. #23:
Louis Andriessen, "Zilver" The most surprising thing about the
chamber music pieces on this CD is how much of a structural role
silence plays. In contrast to the nonstop chugging of De Staat, the first three pieces on
this disc are almost shockingly quiet and calm. There's still a
rhythmic punch to his music, accentuated by the crisp and sharp
instrumental textures he uses. Zilver
(1994) Zilver
begins with little bursts of sound, as flute and vibraphone descend an
altered major scale together. Soon, the two diverge to lead different
groups of instruments -- one which plays staccato, chords the other
held notes -- that move stepwise up and down what sounds like an
altered major scale, in independent tempi. Though this goes on for
quite a while, the subtle variations in timing make Zilver constantly
engaging and compelling. The piece slowly gets faster and motoric...and
after the nonstop stepwise motion, it's an exciting and gigantic shift
when the two groups suddenly start playing larger intervals. After a
rhythmic, dancelike climax, things calm down again, returning to the
more serene and considered descent of the opening. It's elegant and
focused, and quite satisfying. Disco
(1982) Disco uses a similar compositional
technique as Zilver, with multiple sources of little bursts of sound
traveling stepwise that combine to form a kind of mensuration
canon. Violin and piano start the piece playing a jerky, dancy,
major-key melody together before breaking apart. And again, there's a
slow but riveting buildup as more and more elements enter what feels
like a real dialogue between the two. Eventually, they reach some sort
of rapport or agreement, and combine to play in hocket a funky, fun
line that echoes the opening duet. It's really difficult for spare,
pointillist music filled with lots of silence to succeed, but
Andriessen makes it seem effortless with a bright, delightful gem. Overture
to Orpheus (1982) Overture to Orpheus follows a similar
profile as Zilver and Disco, growing from a spare and quiet texture
into something -- not quite lush, but...it's like the experience of
looking at a Seurat painting up close, perceiving it as
individual little blobs of color, and then stepping back until those
blobs coalesce into something whole and continuous. It's a delicate,
Baroque piece in mostly minor mode. The amazing thing about Overture to
Orpheus is that the harpsichord rarely plays more than one note at a
time, and mostly only when a melody is in close canon with itself -- so
the entire piece is basically an unaccompanied melody -- and it's an
incredibly gripping and lovely piece. Worker's
Union (1975) Worker's
Union is of a very different nature, boomy and bombastic, as
each note is punctuated by loud percussion. It's a grating and annoying
piece to listen to. It just stomps along, not changing quickly enough
to be interesting. It's like Andriessen notated a migraine headache. I
usually stop listening to the CD at Overture
to Orpheus. Zilver is an excellent collection of pieces, lessons in how to use silence and quiet to develop even the barest shreds of material into exquisite wholes...with the exception of Worker's Union, which feels out of place in both the instrumental resources it calls on and its compositional style. The contrast would be fine if the piece were any good. But the first three pieces on the disc make this well worth listening to. #24:
Louis Andriessen, "De Stijl / M is for Man, Music, Mozart" De Stijl (1984-5), performed by the Schoenberg Ensemble with the Asko Ensemble; Reinbert de Leeuw, conductor, Gertrude Thoma, voice De Stijl is a musical portrait of painter Piet Mondrian, named for an artistic movement and publication on which Mondrian was a key influence. Heavily influenced by the jazz that he was apparently quite fond of, the piece sandwiches writings from De Stijl around an account of Mondrian by one of his friends. Ivesian and Cubist in its construction, the ensemble is split into three parts, each seemingly doing their own thing and only occasionally intersecting: the piano and electric bass play a catchy, funky riff; brass occasionally interject with outbursts that recall big band music; and the chorus and accompanying brass float on top of them, singing a dreamy, ethereal chorale[1] -- all accompanied by a set of drums that keeps switching allegiances. Even though all three groups are usually in different keys, their parts are meticulously constructed in such a way to make the clash of harmonies sound ebullient and joyful rather than cacophonous. De Stijl is in a loose ABA form. The first part begins with a triumphant brass fanfare, which serves as a kind of rondo-esque focal point throughout the piece, bringing the different parts of the orchestra back into line -- and allowing us to get our bearings as well. After the opening statement, the three sections begin their game of bumper cars. This eventually calms down into a vamp, over which a narrator speaks[2] the aforementioned account. It sounds a bit dated and stilted now, but it's still charming. After the rap, a truncated recapitulation of the A section ends the piece. Rhythmic, propulsive, funky, and often
surprisingly lovely, De Stijl
is a fun, raucous piece, a delight to listen to all around. M is
for Man, Music, Mozart (1991), performed by the Orkest de
Volharding; Jurjen Hempel, conductor 1. The Alphabet Song Another sort-of portrait, M is for Man, Music, Mozart was part of a collaboration between Louis Andriessen and filmmaker Peter Greenaway to commemorate the 200th anniversary of Mozart's death. I haven't seen the film, so all I can talk about is the music. Four songs alternate with three instrumentals, all of which seem heavily influenced by musical theater, and are full of both obvious and subtle references to Mozart's music and compositional style. Again, Andriessen makes extensive use of brass[3]. I find it really difficult to judge
this piece, because on this recording, the songs seem deliberately sung
in as grating, nasal, and shrill a manner as possible. If that was done
without Andriessen's direction, then I feel the need to reserve
judgement on the piece, since it's the recording rather than the piece
I can't stand. If that style of singing was encouraged by Andriessen,
then whatever its other musical merits, I hate the piece because I'm
forced to hate the singer. (1) It's like what would happen if the sung parts of De Staat were hijacked by Duke Ellington and Billy Strayhorn. (2) "Raps", even. (3) Using brass strikes me as odd because I consider them the orchestral instrument least suited for minimalist music; they're the least agile and precise family of instruments, and require the most breath. Nevertheless, Andriessen loves to use brass, and is more than able to overcome what I see as their limitations. Perhaps that's why I'm not famous. #25:
"The Annoying Music Show's The Annoying Music Show Holiday CD!" 1) Tiny Tim - O Holy Night This was a "gift" from a "friend". As if I needed more proof I am surrounded by people who hate me. The Annoying Music Show presents, well, just that. Thank you, public radio. Thank you. 1) Oh Holy Night - Tiny Tim How did a hideous man who sang in a warbly falsetto and played the ukelele have a career? 2) Barry Tiffon - A Candy Bar for Elvis Elvis once asked this man to buy candy bars for him. It was a pivotal moment in his (Barry's, not Elvis's) life. He wants to tell you about it. 3) John 'Bowtie' Barstow - Do You See What I See? Imagine that you are a lounge singer/crooner. Imagine that you have suddenly been struck deaf. Imagine that you bravely continue singing nevertheless. You are John 'Bowtie' Barstow. 4) Jamie Glaser - Disco Columbus Not only is this a cheesy disco song about Columbus, it's kind of offensive. Then again, nothing is officially discovered until a white man notices it, so I guess they have a point. 5) Petty Booka - Material Girl I actually really like this track -- it's a Japanese bluegrass cover of "Material Girl", and features actual musicians with chops. And Japanese people trying to sing in English always has nonzero entertainment value. 6) Randy Roberts - The Pilgrim/Thanksgiving Song The strangest part of this is that it uses the same tune as Yankee Doodle Dandy. Huh? 7) John 'Bowtie' Barstow - Jingle Bells Oh God no. 8) Gefilte Joe & The Fish - Hanukkah Rocks This is a strange, U2-like ballad sung by a fellow with an overly pronounced Hasidic accent. But now I know that Hannukah comes but once a year; and when it does, I know it's here. 9) Larry Hagman - Good Luck Charm This is a pretty mild one, all things considered; and it's a story about a damnfool soldier sent to the Alamo who touts the power of his damnfool good luck charm, only to get his damnfool head blown off, so it's not without value. Apparently, Larry Hagman played J. R. Ewing. 10) Rod Terri - God Bless Richard Nixon "God, in His infinite wisdom, put
Richard Nixon on this earth / 11) Dan Blocker - Deck the Halls Whatever. 12) Lucia Pamela - In the Year 2000! We are, actually, living in the moon. We only believe we're still on Earth because of a CIA PsyOp. 13) Clark Bell - Tribute to String Because I very badly needed a small boy to sing to me about what my life would be without if there were no string. 14) Bette Davis - On Old Broadway Oh Sweet Jesus she can't sing make her stop please 15) Jeff St. Pierre - Rubber Band Christmas Neat concept -- a rubber band orchestra playing Christmas tunes. It would actually be cool if they could play in tune. 16) Larry Nestor - Santa Doesn't Smoke Anymore Festive and educational. What could be better? 17) Carol Hensel - Exercise to John Lennon At first glance, it's not entirely clear what "Exercise to John Lennon" means. Let me explain. Pick a random John Lennon tune. Now superimpose an aerobics instructor directing your daily exercise routine: "Imagine there's no Heaven (and right,
and left, and turn, and turn) / 18) Templeton Twins - MacArthur Park This is another track I genuinely enjoy. It's a '20s-style vaudeville arrangement -- I always imagine the two male singers in boaters and wielding canes -- of one of the worst popular songs in the history of the Milky Way Galaxy, and it actually makes it kinda neat. 19) Singin' Sisters of Syracuse - Harvest Moon A chorus of nuns singing is pretty amusing. A chorus of nuns suddenly pulling out kazoos is pretty fucking awesome, so I've got nothing against this track. 20) Anthony Quinn - What is Love? Spoken-word pieces over soupy instrumental backgrounds already start out with a big penalty; it takes talent to make a specific one demonstrably worse than any other. Anthony Quinn...has talent. 21) John 'Bowtie' Barstow - Silent Night Actually, if you hate Christmas carols -- and yourself -- Mr. Barstow is your man. 22) Killdozer - One Tin Soldier An awesome death-metal interpretation of the classic folk song. The best moment comes when the singer refuses to acknowledge that he can barely sing the verse under normal circumstances, let alone an octave higher. ??? - ??? Some lame '60s-folk-style song about a moonman sent to Earth to check on us. Kill. Me. Now. #26:
Aphex Twin, "Selected Ambient Works Volume II" Disc 1: Disc 2: It struck me as odd when I realized that the people most devoted to continuing John Cage's (and Karl Stockhausen's) musical legacy (consciously or not) are electronic musicians, laptop artists, beatmasters, etc; for example, the folks at lowercase music or my NEC colleague greg davis. One of Cage's own most important influences was Erik Satie, probably most accurately described as the best kind of jester, whose music and writings were infused with both playful, provocative mockery and thoughtful innovation. Among Satie's contributions to musical thought is the idea of furniture music, designed not to be listened to, but to serve as a kind of aural wallpaper...not so much actively "boring" as unobtrusive and unassuming, music to do something else by. Aphex Twin may not consciously follow this tradition, but he almost certainly knows of Brian Eno, who I can't imagine doesn't know Satie and Cage. Best known as one of the earliest purveyors of jagged, complex, beat-heavy electronica -- and one of the genre's "grand old men" by now -- Aphex Twin works primarily with electronically generated instruments, building his music out of synthesizers and drum machines. While I believe most of the music he creates is extremely propulsive and often abrasive, this CD represents another side of his compositional aesthetic. Selected Ambient Works Volume II is an excellent example of prime furniture music. Each track is extremely static and repetitive...though each also contains something ever so slightly twisted, like a subtle, unidentifiable flavor, so the material being iterated is always *just* compelling enough. What's impressive is that every track manages to be distinct while having almost no real "profile", like an array of ancient statues whose features have been almost, but not completely, weathered away. This is an extremely ghostly and meditative album, and perfect for its intended purpose, to exist in the background to support some other activity, while still developing barely often enough to reward you for tuning in occasionally. It's music that just wants to be, and invites you to do the same. #27
- Aphex Twin, "Come to Daddy" 1) Come To Daddy [Pappy Mix] While Aphex Twin is one of the pioneers of electronica, the musicians he's inspired have refined and developed his ideas with more sophistication since. In the light of his successors' work from the same time period, Come to Daddy seems somewhat dated, even empty...music that's more interesting than good. That's not to say there aren't some tracks I enjoy on this EP -- the first mix of "Come to Daddy" is a hectic, propulsive track laden with awesome skittering beats and some really badass distortion. "Film" is a surprisingly graceful piece of techno, and "Bucephalus Bouncing Ball"[1] samples the arcade version of Defender, and uses an algorithm to duplicate the rhythm of...well...a bouncing ball. But all of it nevertheless seems a bit hollow. Some of the tracks feature demonically distorted human speech to create a creepiness that feels more pointless than disturbing. The bouncing ball algorithm is fun, but seems more like a fun game than a real compositional tool. Ultimately, while the music on this EP
is certainly listenable and often pleasant or energetic, in the end
it's not very satisfying and a little frustrating, like watching
somebody else play with their toys instead of doing something truly
creative. In a word, it strikes me as complacent. (1)Which I discovered on the π soundtrack, and was part of my introduction to electronica. #28:
Apocalyptica, "Inquisition Symphony" 1) Harmageddon Apocalyptica is an electric cello quartet that plays heavy metal songs, as well as performing original compositions by its leader Eicca Toppinen[2]. Unlike most instrumental arrangements, however, these rock hard[2]. The cello[3] -- amplified and distorted here -- is well up to the task to paying tribute to the gritty and fierce texture of heavy metal guitars. Most of the arrangements are fairly simple -- three cellos on rhythm section with one playing the melody or guitar solos, occasionally joined by another. What's inventive is the special techniques the rhythm cellos use to evoke the rough, raw sound of metal. The amplification applied to their guitars picks up the noise[4] as well as the pitch of their instruments, to good effect; and of course distortion can go a long way as well. Their sound does get a bit monotonous at times, though they try to break up the constant chugging with the occasional quieter song. It's actually quite impressive how fresh they manage to keep making it sound, despite the relative lack of variety between most tracks. My favorite songs here are the original compositions -- I would imagine this is because they were conceived of as instrumentals, and don't suffer from the emptiness of wordless lyrics. The arrangements are, of course, fun and satisfying to listen to -- especially the guitar solos, which sound incredibly badass on cello -- but they're not able to entirely overcome what I see as the pitfall of such arrangements[2]. Inquisition
Symphony is Apocalyptica's second release; I like it even more
than their first, which I enjoyed greatly (though I don't own a copy).
In particular, the inclusion of original pieces for their quartet is
heartening, as it indicates they're interested in expanding their range
in ways that, for example, converting all of Metallica's output into
cello quartet format could not. (1) They provided the inspiration for my own piece Arrhythmia. (2) Normally, instrumental arrangements of songs just plain suck. I would argue that this is because what makes lyrics compelling is how words and melody interact and give each other meaning; and that separating one from the other diminishes both. (3) My favorite instrument, and wicked versatile. I wish I knew how to play it as well as I do the piano, but learning it proved frustrating because of the gap between how I well I wanted to play it and how well I could play. Perhaps someday they will make Cello Hero. (4) The scrape of the bow against the strings; and they use sul ponticello fairly liberally to give their cellos the pinched sound of the electric guitar, as well as the occasional special technique. #29:
Apocalyptica, "Cult" 1) Path 11) Hall of the Mountain King On Cult, their third release, Apocalyptica does something really quite daring and performs nothing but original compositions by Eicca Toppinen. I can certainly laud their initiative; they probably would have made a fine living just doing more of the same. Unfortunately, their reach exceeds their grasp. Though the original pieces were, for me, the highlights of Inquisition Symphony, Toppinen's compositional skills aren't up to filling a whole CD. Most of his works sound like covers, more like tributes to something great than outstanding in and of themselves. There are certainly some neat things going on, but he doesn't introduce enough variety in texture or harmonic/melodic material to make his music worth listening for 50 minutes. As well, some of the tracks just fade out or cut off -- understandable in a cover of a metal song, but a weak finish in any other context. That's not to say the album isn't worth listening to; I really like "Pray!", and the last track on the 'regular' CD -- "Coma" -- is completely like anything else on the album, funereal and sinister, and very evocative. "In the Hall of the Mountain King" kicks ass. And it's always incredibly entertaining to hear four cellos rocking out. The problem is, it's often more than just four cellos. Apocalyptica adds drums to the mix, and it just doesn't work -- rather than add to the intensity of their performances, it just sounds like a cheap way of heightening drama. Sometimes the cellos are so distorted as to no longer sound like cellos -- in which case, why not just dissolve the quartet and start your own metal band? So, Cult
is a bold move, but Apocalyptica -- and Toppinen -- don't quite have
the chops to make it fully work. As I said, there's some good material
and some inventive and interesting ideas. But Toppinen doesn't do
enough with them...and the inclusion of heavy electronic effects and
drums feels like cheating, as if they got frustrated by the rules[1]
they set for themselves, and figured nobody would care if they broke
those rules. (1) Which rules were what made them compelling in the first place. #29a:
Hans Appelqvist, "Sifanten Och Mörkret" 2) Tänk Att Himlens Alla Stjärnor 3) Mormas Fågel 4) Freckenåges Spa 5) Tiggången 6) Skundgässhallen 7) Sju I Tre 8) Jag En Gök 9) Tilli Talli Tulli 10) Full the Moon 11) Lestapiona 12) Talkijangnas Akt To the best of my knowledge, Hans Appelqvist is a laptop artist out of Sweden; I discovered a suite of his called The First Three Notes of the Minor Scale  a few years ago, and
liked it well enough to be intrigued when I stumbled across news of his
most recent CD release, Sifanten Och Mörkret.Judging by Sifanten..., Appelqvist enjoys making delicate, pretty, occasionally playful music...and then defacing it. Most of the songs are simple and soft -- though not patricularly noteworthy -- and marred by ridiculous, lame samples[1]. The effect is like viewing a serene landscape painting over which the artist has sprayed graffiti...it's not so much humorous as somewhat childish and a little sad, as if Appelqvist is vaguely ashamed of his own musical sensibilities and has decided to preemptively criticize his work before anyone else can. That said, there are a few tracks I really like: "Jag En Gök" is a really nice track backed appropriately by birdsong; "Talkijangnas Akt" is a fun drums/guitar instrumental that's got a compelling '80s-movie-instrumental vibe; and my favorite, "Freckenåges Spa", is a beautiful, energetic, crystalline piece centered on the high range of the piano that's way too short -- sometimes I just put that single track on repeat and bask in it. I suppose the shame of it is that when Appelqvist creates something he seems proud enough to display without embarrassment, it's actually pretty good, if not terribly ambitious. ___ (1) Mewling kittens, slide whistles, gurgling babies, cymbal crashes, animals roaring, etc. #30
- Fiona Apple, "Tidal" 1) Sleep To Dream Fiona Apple is a purveyor of piano-based bluesy rock, or maybe rocky R&B. She's got a great husky alto voice, and her songs have some lovely dissonances and surprising and neat harmonic twists; a strong sense of rhythm and funk permeates her music. But her vibrato sounds kind of weird and tentative, and her voice is untrained and occasionally a bit off -- not to mention that it lacks the richness to sustain long notes without sounding a little thin and flat. If she has decent piano chops, her writing doesn't showcase it, as her piano parts are generally just chords or arpeggios, so her songs tend to kind of blend together because of the sameness of their arrangements and rhythmic feel. That said, there's a fair amount of promise here. Tidal actually starts quite impressively, as the opening track "Sleep To Dream" begins with just a sparse drumbeat and Apple singing a deliciously tonally ambiguous melody that lands satisfyingly once the accompaniment joins in to anchor it. "Criminal" is a catchy and cool tune. And the last song on the disc, "Carrion" is noteworthy for the way it keeps flicking back and forth between tempi. My criticisms sound a lot harsher than I intend -- it's an OK album, that I don't mind listening to. But it's a CD that's more about potential than fulfillment; a nice enough debut, but with room and necessity for growth. |
