Release news started to trickle in around the holidays, and afterward, it started to pour. Said holidays make me hibernate when it comes to compiling this column, but now that February is around corner, I’d better wake up.
The first quarter of 2007 looks like it’s going to be pretty busy until the summer touring season. Highlights yonder …
"A couple of years ago, I started thinking about how so often when classical composers write a piece of music, they are trying to tell you something that they are proud of and like about themselves," composer David Lang writes in the program notes for his work, Cheating, Lying, Stealing. "Here’s this big gushing melody, see how emotional I am. Or, here’s this abstract hard-to-figure-out piece, see how complicated I am, see my really big brain ….
"So I thought, What would it be like if composers based pieces on what they thought was wrong with them? Like, here’s a piece that shows you how miserable I am. Or, here’s a piece that shows you what a liar I am, what a cheater I am. I wanted to make a piece that was about something disreputable."
Dude, if you wanted to do that, you should have gone into rock ‘n’ roll.
I had heard about Music for Airports for years before I actually listened to the piece. And it wasn’t even the original Brian Eno record I listened to — it was Bang on a Can All-Stars’ version.
Music for Airports has since become a litmus test for me — if a band can make music that seeps into my consciousness while playing in the background, then it passes the Music for Airports test. The test can be construed as positive or negative. If you’re a country artist, you probably don’t want your music to be compared to Music for Airports. (Unless you’re making ambient country music.)
Around the time I was getting into Japanese indie rock, I was also exploring rock en Español. I attempted to give Latin rock the same kind of coverage its Japanese counterpart, but the Latin music community doesn’t have the same kind of thorough presence on the Internet as the Japanese music scene.
Finding reliable information was difficult. Official web sites seemed optional to even major label Latin artists, so I was forced to explore some very poorly-designed fan pages. It also didn’t help that I spoke no Spanish. I could at least decipher some Japanese, having studied it before.
Still, I bought up CDs by the likes of La Ley, Nek, Los Fabulosos Cadillacs, Bloque and Shakira at the start of the decade. I’ve pretty much narrowed my favorites to Molotov and Café Tacuba.
Aterciopelados was a band I thought I could really get into, but the only album I possess now is Caribe Atómico. The album drew comparisons to Portishead for its trip-hop beats and mellow tone.
Here’s the cover of Asylum Street Spankers’ EP, Nasty Novelties:
![[Asylum Street Spankers: Nasty Novelties]](http://www.gregbueno.com/images/extras/nasty_novelites_clean.jpg)
Here’s what the cover of that EP should look like:
![[Asylum Street Spankers: Nasty Novelties (with Parental Advisory sticker)]](http://www.gregbueno.com/images/extras/nasty_novelites_explicit.jpg)
I’m no fan of Hawaiian music. I grew up in Hawaii, and I heard it everywhere. It’s the same for my friends who grew up in Texas and dislike country music. Familiarity breeds distress.
At the same time, I do like hearing how Hawaiian music influences artists outside of Hawaii. Asylum Street Spankers are very cognizant of the influence of territorial Hawaiian music on country music. What would country music be today without the Hawaiian steel pedal guitar?
So when the Spankers included on its first album an original Hawaiian song, written in the old territorial style, I was impressed. Here was a group that clearly soaked in the sound of those old records. Are Hawaiian music groups today even versed in that kind of history?
I haven’t been to an Asylum Street Spankers show in years, and I’ve heard tell the ensemble has embraced the "demon electricity". Well, then …
In the early days, Asylum Street Spankers cut its teeth by eschewing amplification, and the group was large enough to produce a big sound. For its first album, the Spankers set up two microphones and recorded in an old house in East Austin. Given the band’s classic American sound, the grainy quality of the album perhaps best encapsulates the Spankers’ muse.
This is ol’ time music recorded in an ol’ time manner.
If I had picked up Art-School’s Love/Hate when it came out in December 2003, there was the slightest chance it could have unseated Shiina Ringo’s Karuki Zaamen Kuri no Hana for favorite of the year. (I decided instead to round up the release date and to list it on my 2004 list.)
When I finally did get around to listening to it, I couldn’t stop playing it. In fact, Love/Hate is so good, I’m reluctant to explore Art-School’s prior works out of fear of hearing something disappointing. (I can’t say I warmed up to Paradise Lost, the follow-up to Love/Hate.)
When I first got onto the Internet in 1993 — right around the time Duran Duran’s The Wedding Album gave the band a momentary comeback — I noticed most fans were far more interested in off-shoot project Arcadia than the Power Station.
Chart-wise, the Power Station was far more successful than Arcadia back in 1985, but over time, Arcadia became the fan favorite. There’s a simple explanation: the project’s sole album, So Red the Rose, was essentially Seven and the Ragged Tiger, Part II.
Produced by Alex Sadkin, who worked with Duran Duran on Seven and the Ragged Tiger, So Red the Rose expanded on the lush, busy ambiance of Duran Duran’s third studio album. The music was far more interesting, but none of the tracks could be considered strong contenders for singles. (Don’t tell me "Election Day" is anywhere near as catchy as "New Moon on Monday".)
If you’re an intermediate piano player who wants to sound more of a virtuoso than you are, then learn Aram Khachaturian’s Toccata for Piano.
I pretty much conned everyone in the high school marching band that I was some prodigious musician by playing the Khachaturian Toccata. Hell, I even fooled a scholarship committee into putting me into making me finalist for some dog-and-pony TV thing.
Despite the flurry of notes in the piece, the pianists’ hands don’t really move much, so fingering is a cinch. Even the descending figure right before the slow section is little more than a series of broken chords with a half-step flourish.