I Was Totally Destroying It - Vexations

Every time I see I Was Totally Destroying It in a small room, I'm sure it will be the last - that the next time, they'll be in a venue worthy of their size and I'll be surrounded by a thousand other people who finally have figured it out. Lord knows IWTDI have the songs and the chops to bend an arena to their will. Vexations, their fourth album, sees them moving beyond their diverse influences and claiming their own musical territory.

Last year I wrote about IWTDI's previous release, Preludes, a patchwork quilt of songs into which the band had obviously put a great deal of effort, but which they intriguingly announced was a placeholder for yet another album, which they were holding back. With Vexations in hand, that strategy now makes sense. It's not that the songwriting is stronger - Preludes was chock full of singles in waiting that will undoubtedly feature in their set for a long time to come. This may be simply a matter of production (Vexations is the first time the band worked with outside producers), but it was easy to spend Preludes playing name-that-influence, from Jackson Browne to Metric and many points in between - Vexations turns the corner to a band sounding like itself.

The explicit thematic inspiration for Vexations is Stephen King's epic Dark Tower series, with which I am unfamiliar. Judging from these songs, though, the books feature a number of ghosts, more than a little blood, and a lingering existential uncertainty that inhabits both people and places - an uncertainty that at times is vague and mystical, and at other times holds real lives in the balance. Startlingly poetic lyrics lie in wait in the middle of songs: "My love is an enemy that I let back inside." "Truth is a mirror, and a secret can carry us home." "We hold the candles high to burden the sky."

The musical palette to express these ideas is diligent rock of varying thicknesses, and the ornamentation that could be distracting on Preludes is more organic here. There is great subtlety throughout: acoustic guitars played against electrics, understated keyboard parts, and unexpected fermatas give these songs humanity and warmth, playing in contrast to the bleakness of the lyrics.

An interesting facet of IWTDI's sound is the interplay of John and Rachel's vocals, which on many songs seem to be arranged as instruments as opposed to he-said she-said dynamics. This works particularly well because these are not character songs, so when the two trade back and forth in places and harmonize in others, it adds dimension to the material. Both are capable of a number of satisfying voices, and neither are inclined to show off.

At the show last night the band spoke of their excitement to finally share this album and their affection for this latest work. It's obvious why; Vexations practically compels multiple listenings and provides new rewards each time.

A little bit not in love

I wanted to see Lykke Li live, to the point that I drove three and a half hours to do it. Despite the fact that I've connected primarily with her singles and found her album tracks to be rather forgettable, I didn't have any reservations because she's racked up quite a few killer singles with just two albums: 'Little bit', 'Breaking it up', 'I'm good, I'm gone', 'I follow rivers', 'Youth knows no pain'... Even if the other half of the set list wasn't incredible, those songs alone would be worth the trip.

I think Lykke came out with the best of intentions, even if the taped music intro and accompanying light show was long and theatrical enough that for a moment I wondered if I had stumbled into a Pink Floyd tribute band by mistake. She started strong, and sounded great.

And then at some point, about a third of the way through, the edge seemed to come off.  I can come up with a number of reasons. The Orange Peel was quite full, if not completely sold out, but the audience was very uneven in its enthusiasm - there was some pockets of real fervor, but plenty of patches of low energy. Near the front there was an obscene number of people with cameras up, to the point that Lykke introduced a song by asking if everyone would turn their cameras off and just live in the moment.  It was one of the few times she addressed the crowd between songs, and while plenty of people cheered the sentiment, she came across as a bit dismissive. And it was Asheville, North Carolina after all - probably a prime candidate to phone in a show if an artist is running on fumes during a tour.

For one reason or another, by the halfway mark I was thinking at least once a song that Lykke was giving the impression she had more energy available to put into her performance than she was actually committing.  I could be misreading her - she obviously structures her show (staging, clothes, transitions, including a bizarre minute of drumming to a tape of the Knife's 'Silent Shout' that came out of nowhere and then left just as abruptly) to be on the edgy, dramatic side, and perhaps her attempts to look intense wound up making her look aloof. But there were plenty of moments when it felt like she was in a late stage rehearsal with the band, rather than a performance. My suspicions were only reinforced when she dropped her signature cover of 'Unchained Melody' from her encore, and gave us only one song.

So, in all, it was a bit unsatisfying, and I'd guess Lykke would say it was mutual.  In the meantime, though, she made some interesting choices, arrangement-wise. I can't say there were any home runs; 'Little bit' was overwrought and hard, losing its delicacy and playfulness. 'I follow rivers' managed to become monotonous, something I've never felt with the recording. 'Breaking it up' was missing completely. 'Youth knows no pain' was the solid rendition of the evening, but it came late in the set, and couldn't make it over the top.

I remember the New York Times review from a few months ago noticing the disparity between the toughness of Lykke Li's arrangements and the lightness of many of her lyrics, and I understand what they meant tonight. There seemed to be two dynamics: ballads done with minimal instrumentation and sophisticated harmonies, better suited for a theatre than a rock venue. The audience invariably whooped too much and too early, disrupting the moment and probably annoying Lykke. And then full bombast with few breakdowns - something easy to achieve with two drummers and as many as three other people doing percussive things at various times. I actually thought of industrial percussion ensemble Big Pig at one point; the banging was impressive, but ill-suited to the material.

I will continue to enjoy Lykke Li's singles; she shows much greater subtlety and sophistication in her recordings than I got from her live show.  I'm not closing the book on her as a live act, but I don't know that I'd drive three hours to see her again.

Lykke Li's official website

Talk Talk Talk live live live

The Troika was not up for an away game this summer, so it was quite gracious of Psychedelic Furs to bring their Talk Talk Talk tour to us, here in Carrboro.  On the one hand, fewer adventures for the memoirs (I never would have thought a Troika night would end without some kind of swimming pool activity, for example).  On the other hand, without being too maudlin about it, we are all feeling particularly happy to be alive and kicking this year, so this felt just right.

I have to admire Psych Furs for their concept: celebrate the thirtieth anniversary of the release of an album off which most people only know one song (and that in a re-recorded version from a film soundtrack) by playing the entire album before getting around to any of the later hits for which 95% of the audience undoubtedly came.  It was a very effective strategy with me, because when I pulled out TTT this past week to brush up before the show, I rediscovered an album which I appreciate more now than I did when I first listened to it back in the late eighties.  (No, I was not a sophisticated enough eleven year-old in 1981 to catch TTT when it debuted.)

In 2011, TTT sounds like an absolute crucible of everything integral to new wave in 1981, which is no small feat.  Richard Butler's voice is the sound of a punk era singer admitting he fancies melodies, snarling through one song but doing his best to croon through the next one.  The sax parts aren't as punk as those recorded by Violent Femmes or early Romeo Void, but not as new romantic as those recorded by early Duran Duran or later Romeo Void.  The drums are as muscular as Budgie's.  There are no guitar solos to speak of.  At times the references go as far back as the paisley sixties. The lyrics are sometimes rude and sometimes thoughtful; the chord progressions are sometimes basic, sometimes ambitious.  Truthfully, TTT could be a very academic experience for a music historian, if it weren't so engaging.

Which is not to say TTT is timeless.  It is an ideal artifact of its time, but throughout the show tonight there was never any doubt that the material, played extremely faithfully by the band (of which only Richard and Tim Butler are originals), was thirty years old.  Richard sounds fantastic, not diminished in the least.  Lost single 'Mr. Jones' was an absolute rave-up, and should-have-been-a-single 'All of this and nothing' was a revelation - emerging all this time later as my new favorite track on the album.  Every track has classic new wave running through its veins, from the aggressive 'Dumb waiters' to the sweet 'She is mine'.

There were folks in the audience for whom it was an absolute treat to hear it start to finish, either because they had loved the album all that time ago, or, like I, developed a more recent appreciation for it.  The rest of the audience, however, got nostalgic to 'Pretty in pink' and then waited for the second half, when the later hits came out.

I didn't expect this, because I count 'Love my way' and 'Heartbreak beat' as quintessential Furs tracks, but the second half of the concert wasn't as fulfilling.  'Sister Europe' was another revelation, and the band gave almost studio-quality readings of all the singles they played, with the exception of the biggest hit of all, 'Heartbreak beat' - which somehow was lackluster and sluggish, a real disappointment.  Part of the oddness of the hits portion of the program was that certain hits were missing ('All that money wants', 'The ghost in you', 'House', 'Shock' - though that last one is no surprise, since Richard famously turned his back on it almost immediately) yet non-hits were included (despite its inclusion on greatest hits packages, 'President gas' remains a bizarre self indulgence, and 'Highwire days' is nothing more than an album track.)  'Forever now' was rather odd and completely unsatisfying as the final encore; overall the second half could have been edited and sequenced to much greater effect.

Still, witnessing Richard give an obviously personally fulfilling performance of Talk Talk Talk was a great experience.  Anyone who is tempted to dismiss new wave as an era of musical bon bons without substance or significance need only listen to Talk Talk Talk for an effective rebuttal.

Troika forever!

Psychedelic Furs official web site

Forgetting and belonging

One of the abiding maxims of indie rock shows is that the live incarnation of the band will sound noticeably different from the recorded version.  There are any number of reasons: the band is the brainchild of one or two people who did almost all the recorded work, and then they had to figure out how to make it work live.  The band made certain concessions to a producer or a label in the name of commercial appeal, but are free to play the music as they envisioned it on the road.  The subtleties achieved in the studio had to be abandoned for a more conventional sound.  The sound at the venue is shitty, and suddenly they're a shoegaze band, whether they intended it or not.

Sometimes the band winds up sounding better live.  Sometimes worse.  Sometimes just different.  Usually more honest, because, hey, it's live.  I suppose my point is this: in a day and age when high quality digital recordings are available even to bedroom bands, live shows have become more than ever a different genre entirely.

I was happy to discover Pains Of Being Pure At Heart along with the rest of the internet a few years ago. The first album was good, and promising, and since then each single has been better than the last.  So I jumped at the chance to see them when they came to Cat's Cradle here in Carrboro.  Opening act Twin Shadow was an extra bonus, since I liked the two tracks that had received blog love last year.  It was a good show, though the theme of the night for me was how different these live acts are from their recordings.

On record, Twin Shadow has a spare, poppy sound with plenty of R&B shadings in the rhythm sections.  They gravitate to uncommon mid-eighties influences as disparate as later Japan and watered-down blue-eyed soul outfits like Curiosity Killed The Cat.  Live, they push into other categories of mid-eighties new wave, reminding me at times of later Gang Of Four, at other times of Killing Joke at their most melodic.  Their live version of 'Yellow balloon' morphed the uninteresting drum-sequenced album track into a hard-hitting Simple Minds anthem with ringing synth chords that made me wish they had recorded that version, instead.

POBPAH are fascinating to watch, if only because one wouldn't expect such a diminutive group of kids to rock quite so hard, or so tightly.  One adores Peggy in the same way one adores Janice in the Muppet Band; I'm not sure if I ever heard her keyboards, but her enthusiasm was infectious.  I've always been slightly confused by the band's comparisons to My Bloody Valentine and other shoegaze heavies, because their fuzz and feedback almost always have been confined to a supporting role on their recordings, giving them a much stronger affinity to Smashing Pumpkins.  But just like the Pumpkins, Pains unleash messier, if no less tightly played, versions of their tracks on stage.

That presents a challenge for Kip, whose thin tenor regularly got lost in the live mix.  (When he sang the first half of 'Heart in your heartbreak' almost a half-step sharp, I wondered if he was having trouble hearing himself, but he seemed to be on key for the rest of the show.)  And the teen angsty lyrics never really made it through.  But that doesn't mean all was lost; 'Young adult friction' is better live (even if 'Everything with you' is more forgettable).

My biggest disappointment came from what I didn't hear: 'Higher than the stars' and 'Say no to love' were conspicuously absent from the set list, and I know I wasn't the only one who noticed.  I can't guess why they didn't make the cut.  Kip took pains to praise Chapel Hill's indie rock scene, and Merge Records in particular, and the audience gave them plenty of love throughout the show, so I can't imagine they were phoning in an abbreviated version of the show.  Oh well.

With Twin Shadow I'm torn between their live and recorded incarnations.  I definitely prefer Pains Of Being Pure At Heart on their albums; live, I miss their melodic pop and dance elements.  But there's no doubt they could rock a stadium, if given the chance.

Pains Of Being Pure At Heart official web site
Twin Shadow official web site

I Was Totally Destroying It - Preludes

He who hath to be a creator hath first to be a destroyer... - Nietzsche

I Was Totally Destroying It are set to release not one but two albums in 2011.  The first, Preludes, out April 12 on Greyday Records, is the sound of a band making what should be a well-deserved transition from an exciting regional act to a much more widely appreciated group.

IWTDI might be described lazily as a power pop act, and that is occasionally appropriate; various songs on Preludes are right at home in the power pop lineage, nodding to Cheap Trick, Posies and Velocity Girl.  Ultimately, though, power pop is an inadequate frame for this album and this band; IWTDI make use of early new wave and indie rock elements, and are unafraid to make bold departures from all of these.  For this album that is both a strength and a weakness: one after another, the tracks on Preludes offer fresh things to admire, leaving a collective impression that is not quite unified enough to cohere into a whole.  The songwriting, handled primarily by co-lead vocalists John Booker and Rachel Hirsh, is strong enough that it's clear IWTDI will have the luxury of focusing its style as it sees fit.

Preludes explores a broad spectrum of relationships and personas, many tinged with darkness.  The more aggressive ones are sung by John - 'Wrecking ball' opens the album with the nihilistic declaration, "I may hate myself, but I hate you all so much more."  (Later, on 'Twenty thousand' he'll snarl, "Where I go I don't see or hear you, and that suits me fine.")  The more reflective ones are sung by Rachel, who in track two, 'Control', shifts that me-versus-the-world stance into a more triumphant anthem.  With its new-wave shadings (think Sounds or even Metric) and completely infectious oh-oh, oh-oh-oh chorus, 'Control' begs to be a single.

John and Rachel both bring a lot to the table as vocalists - he in the family of power pop vocalists who actually can sing; she as a chameleon who can sound like Bridget Cross one moment, Cleo Murray the next, and Dolores O'Riordan the third.  And IWTDI boasts obvious musicianship across the board; James Hepler's muscular but unpretentious drumming is a secret weapon wisely used.  Everything comes together on sleeper first single 'Regulators' - three songs in one, really, from its Pixies intro and insouciant verses, to its unexpectedly wistful chorus, to its even more unexpected gorgeous outro with guitar and synth lines that shimmer into the fade.

At times IWTDI pushes for the arena; "Twenty thousand' is a heavyweight cousin to Jackson Browne's 'Running on empty'.  Other songs are achingly pretty, like "All get lucky', possibly the Posies-est track on Preludes, though that song's lyrics rely too much on cliches.  Even prettier, though, is "With you now', sounding like Cranberries doing an Oasis song, and delivering some of the most affecting lyrics on the album: "Living by the notion of fairytale devotion..."

But Preludes holds its boldest, most unorthodox track till the end, with no foreshadowing at all.  'Fight/flight' wears a love of Kate Bush on its sleeve, with the rhythm section paying homage to 'Running up that hill' and Rachel doing the Kate-est of vocal exercises in the bridge.  It's a stunning song that walks a tightrope between paranoia and legitimate fear; as often as Rachel repeats, "It's only in your head," the comfort is undercut by the climbing chord progression and her glossolalia.  'Fight/flight' makes the strongest case that IWTDI is capable of forging a musical identity that will resist easy categorization, making them a band to watch.

Preludes has its missteps.  'Out tonight' is serviceable, but weak in this company.  'The key & the rose' - a surreal reworking of 'Fight/flight' - would be piquant as that song's b-side, but it comes across as self-indulgent as the album closer.  (Outtakes like jangle-poppy 'Halloween' or post-punkish 'The hollow men' would have been welcome in its stead.)  While many of the production choices are truly inspired, the non sequitur introductions to several songs feel arbitrary.  But these are quibbles; there is so much here to enjoy and adore.  Preludes may well be overshadowed by the quick arrival of IWTDI's next album; I hope tracks like 'Control' and 'Fight/flight' get the attention they deserve in the interim.

I am very interested to see what the next year holds for I Was Totally Destroying It.  It will be a crime if Preludes doesn't live up to its name, and serve as the introduction that garners them greater appreciation from a much wider audience.

I Was Totally Destroying It official web site

The year in pop music

I may not have done as much writing about it as I would have liked, this year, but that doesn't mean I didn't hear a lot of great music.  Compared to the past few years, in fact, 2010 was an embarrassment of riches.  So here goes, in alphabetical order, at no predetermined length: my favorite music releases of this past year.

Adele - Rolling in the deep
Amy Meredith - Young at heart (Visitor remix)
Balam Acab - See birds (moon)
Bedouin Soundclash feat Coeur De Pirate - Brutal Hearts
Belle & Sebastian - I want the world to stop
Blonde Redhead - Here sometimes
Blur - Fool's day
Braids - Lemonade
California Wives - Blood red youth
Caribou - Leave house
Cee-Lo Green - Fuck you
ceo - Come with me
Chad Valley - Up and down
Chapel Club - The shore
Chew Lips - Karen
Chief - Night and day
Class Actress - Journal of ardency
Crystal Castles - Empathy
Crystal Castles feat Robert Smith - I'm not in love
Cut Copy - Where I'm going
Depreciation Guild - My chariot
Detachments - I don't want to play
Diamond Rings - Something else
Drums - Forever and ever amen
Du Pacque - Walk straight
Echoes - Ice cold
Fever Ray - Mercy Street
William Fitzsimmons - I don't feel it anymore (George Raquet remix)
Florence & The Machine - Heavy in your arms
Florrie - Come back to mine (Elite Gymnastics remix)
Foster The People - Pumped up kicks
Frankie Rose & The Outs - Candy
Glass - Four four letter
Glasser - Home
Gold Panda - Vanilla minus
Goldfrapp - I wanna life
Good Natured - Your body is a machine
Gypsy & The Cat - Time to wander
Health - USA boys
Holy Ghost! - I know I hear
Holy Other - Yr love
Hope Slide - Passage
Houses - Soak it up
Hundred In The Hands - Sleepwalkers
Hurts - Stay
Ice Cream Shout - Tattooed tears
Irrepressibles - In this shirt
Jackson 5 vs Nirvana - Smells like Rockin' Robin (Go Home Productions mash-up)
jj - Let them
Jonsi - Sinking friendships
Joy Formidable - I don't want to see you like this
Kissaway Trail - Beat your heartbeat
Kisses - People can do the most amazing things
Korallreven - The truest faith
Kordan - Mirror
Lali Puna - Remember
LCD Soundsystem - All I want
Lykke Li - Get some
Living Days - Go oblivion
Loveable Tulips - Fortune favors the brave
LoveLikeFire - Saint Martin
Lovers - Figure 8
Mark McGuire - Brain storm (for Erin)
Massive Attack - Paradise circus
Mirrors - Ways to an end
Monarchy - Love get out of my way
Munich - Into the rain
Naked & Famous - Young blood
National - Afraid of everyone
Neighbors - Hooligans
New Division - Starfield
Nika + Rory - I'm not going anywhere
O.Children - Ruins
Oh Land - Sun of a gun
Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark - Sister Marie says (Monarchy twin galaxies remix)
Our Broken Garden - Garden grow
Pains Of Being Pure At Heart - Heart in your heartbreak
Pains Of Being Pure At Heart - Say no to love
Pallers - The kiss
Passion Pit - Tonight, tonight
Polyamorous Affair - Bright one
Ra Ra Riot - Boy
Radio Dept - Heaven's on fire
Robyn - Dancing on my own
Mark Ronson & The Business International feat Boy George & Andrew Wyatt - Somebody to love me
Saint Saviour - Woman scorned
Savoir Adore - Loveliest creature
School Of Seven Bells - Heart is strange
Selebrities - Time
Shout Out Louds - Fall hard
Soft Moon - Breathe the fire
Star Slinger - Elizabeth Fraser (Heaven or Las Vegas rework)
Stars - Fixed
Staygold feat Spank Rock & Damien Adore - Backseat
Still Corners - Don't fall in love
Tears Run Rings - Reunion
Teenagers - Made of
Tracey Thorn - Why does the wind?
Twin Shadow - I can't wait
Veil Veil Vanish - Anthem for a doomed youth
Villa Nah - Ways to be
Evan Voytas - I took a trip on a plane
Washed Out feat Caroline Polachek - You and I
White Car - No better
White Lies - Holy ghost
Wild Nothing - Golden haze
Wolf Gang - Back to back
Jamie Woon - Night air
Young Empires - White doves
Zola Jesus - Sea Talk (Valusia version)
!!! - AM/FM

List: Favorite Cover Songs

Another mindless Facebook activity which provides an excellent excuse to make a music list.  The original concept was "Fifteen cover songs in fifteen minutes."  I expanded it to a leisurely stroll through my library, making snap decisions about which covers were worthy of inclusion in a representative list.  Here goes, in alphabetical order by artist.  I've written essays about a few of these; I'll try to remember to update the links if I write about any others in the future...

[Cover artist at left; original artist in parentheses at right.]

Oleta Adams - 'Don't let the sun go down on me' (Elton John)
Tori Amos - 'Smells like teen spirit' (Nirvana)
Bauhaus - 'Ziggy stardust' (David Bowie)
Belle Stars - 'Iko iko' (James Crawford / Dixie Cups)
Cocteau Twins - 'Frosty the snowman' (Um...)
Cowboy Junkies - 'Sweet Jane' (Velvet Underground)
Communards - 'Don't leave me this way' (Thelma Houston)
Creatures - 'Right now' (Mel Torme)
Danny Hutton Hitters - 'Wouldn't it be good' (Nik Kershaw)
Depeche Mode - 'Route 66' (Nat King Cole)
Endparty - 'New Year's Day' (U2)
Erasure - 'Voulez vous' (ABBA)
Feist - 'Sealion' (Nina Simone's 'See lime woman')
Fever Ray - 'Mercy street' (Peter Gabriel)
Frankie Goes To Hollywood - 'San Jose' (Dionne Warwick)
Frente - 'Bizarre love triangle' (New Order)
Frazier Chorus - 'Anarchy in the UK' (Sex Pistols)
Diamanda Galas - 'Gloomy Sunday' (Billie Holiday)
Jose Gonzalez - 'Heartbeats' (Knife)
Martin Gore - 'Gone' (Comsat Angels)
Petra Haden - 'Don't stop believin'' (Journey)
Ikon - 'Fall apart' (Death In June)
Grace Jones - 'I've seen that face before (libertango)' (Astor Piazzolla)
Gary Jules - 'Mad world' (Tears For Fears)
Annie Lennox - 'A whiter shade of pale' (Procol Harum)
Love & Rockets - 'Ball of confusion' (Temptations)
Lene Lovich - 'I think we're alone now' (Tommy James/Shondells)
Kirsty MacColl - 'A new England' (Billy Bragg)
March Violets - 'Amanda Jones' (Rolling Stones)
Massive Attack - 'Be thankful for what you've got' (William DeVaughn)
Memphis - 'Love comes quickly' (Pet Shop Boys)
George Michael - 'They won't go when I go' (Stevie Wonder)
Peter Murphy - 'Final solution' (Pere Ubu)
Naked Eyes - 'Always something there to remind me' (Sandie Shaw)
Nouvelle Vague - 'Israel' (Siouxsie & The Banshees)
Robert Palmer - "I didn't mean to turn you on' (Cherelle)
Pixies - 'Head on' (Jesus & Mary Chain)
Placebo - 'Running up that hill' (Kate Bush)
Red House Painters - 'Shock me' (Kiss)
Mark Ronson feat Daniel Merriweather - 'Stop me' (Smiths)
Saint Etienne - 'Only love can break your heart' (Neil Young)
Siouxsie & The Banshees '20th century boy' (T Rex)
Sisters Of Mercy - 'Gimme shelter' (Rolling Stones)
Sonic Youth - 'Into the groove(y)' (Madonna)
Sundays - 'Wild horses' (Rolling Stones)
Sunscreem - 'Broken English' (Marianne Faithful)
This Mortal Coil - 'Song to the siren' (Tim Buckley)
Tourists - 'I only want to be with you' (Dusty Springfield)
Tricky feat Marina Topley-Bird - 'Black coffee' (Sarah Vaughan)
Cassandra Wilson - 'Time after time' (Cyndi Lauper)
Paul Young - 'Every time you go away' (Hall & Oates)
10,000 Maniacs - 'Peace train' (Cat Stevens)

Trying to see New York

I haven't lived in New York City for three years, now.  I did live there in 2001, just far enough uptown that for me, September 11 was a morning with no real personal danger (though it took hours for me to convince myself of that) but a disconcerting tenth row seat at what at first seemed to be a wildly improbable accident, and then an undoubtedly sinister attack.  I went through a panicked phase, attempting to figure out what I was supposed to do, then an exhausted phase from watching the same unspeakably horrible video clips run over and over for hours.  Finally came a sense that life was going to defy death quietly, as New Yorkers congregated in near silence in midtown bars and restaurants that night, sending the first signal that we were broken, but not destroyed.

The following year Tori Amos released Scarlet's Walk, and even though it is buried in the second half, "I can't see New York" shook me in a way I hadn't been shaken since September 11.  Perhaps it shook me even more profoundly.  What I mean is that the real day was too much: too much to process, to accommodate, to acknowledge.  This minimal song, though it addresses the tragedy only obliquely, makes it possible to engage with this nation-changing moment in a manner that the human soul can understand.  It is the perfect example of how art can explain something that no amount of words could.

From here no lines are drawn / From here, no lands are owned.  And later, I can't seem to find my way out of this hunting ground.  This might be the Manhattan of September 11, but it is even more so the Manhattan of centuries earlier, before America was named.  There is barely any judgment in this song, but there is an incredible amount of subtle acknowledgment.  Tori never comes out and says that before this land was ours to cherish, to lose, to defend, it was a place with its own history, and even its own sense of place.  An event like the attack on the World Trade Center, an event comparable to only a scant few in human history, changes when we understand the land itself as a witness to it.  That idea is one of the major threads in the song cycle that is Scarlet's Walk.

I think for decades we imagined a commercial airplane ride as an experience of tranquility - we dressed up; we felt cosmopolitan; we were so unused to to the idea of being thousands of feet above the ground that it was a metaphysical experience.  Even after World War II, when we knew for sure how much destruction could be visited from 30,000 feet, somehow that knowledge didn't really seep into the commercial flight.  But as more people flew more often, the novelty wore off, and airplanes were reduced to expensive Greyhound buses.  By describing airplane flight with the old, tranquil images - purring engines, beacons, circling down through white clouds - Tori surprises us.  This is not a flight on which the passengers will band together to engage terrorists in combat.  But it is a flight that symbolizes metempsychosis: the transmigration of souls.  The primary image in 'I can't see New York' is the other side: not meaning the landing runway as much as the place separated from us by death.  This use of an airplane to symbolize 'crossing over' may have been mainstreamed by Lost, but it startles me with its subtlety every time I hear this song.

The song is a tragedy, but with the confusing circumstance of no apparent trauma at all.  The most fundamental things are at stake here: the loss of life, the loss of a loved one, the loss of home, the loss of meaning.  And yet the overwhelming sentiment of the song is not terror, or horror, or adrenal resistance, or any effort at all - it is sadness.  Resigned, even meditative sadness.  The tragedy is a given; in this moment when it is realized it is also inevitable.  Tori wastes no energy struggling against it.  Her questions are quite basic, but also quite philosophical: what happens when we die?  Will I see the ones I love when I die?  What is the human condition, when I am up here in this strange place, unable to see the city below me?

And in this way she makes a path to the attacks on the World Trade Center that no one else bothered to take.  It is not a path of patriotism, of dualism, of resiliency, of triumph in the face of crushing adversity.  It is a path of stillness.  In the same way that we feel as though we are sitting still while our airplane hurtles through the air at hundreds of miles an hour, the narrator remains still while her life, her world changes around her in the most sublime catastrophic ways.

Trying to say anything meaningful about September 11 is as futile as trying to say anything meaningful about the mysteries of life and death - we resort to platitudes.  Everything falls short.  What we can share - what is within our grasp - are the quiet moments that happen every day, be they in an airplane or anywhere else, when we glance at those mysteries out of the corners of our eyes, and acknowledge not them as much as their unknowableness.

That is what 'I can't see New York' does for me.  It is an achingly beautiful glance out of the corner of one's eye at all of the Big Ideas that will always be too big for me.  I can spend a moment with them without being consumed by them, and then return to my life which depends upon my ability to keep those overwhelming ideas at bay.  I get that from Tori's hugely sentimental idea that my loved one could promise to find me even in death, his lips still warm.  I get that like a hum from the other side.

Something happens and I'm head over heels...

I almost had given up hope that I would get to a repeat of the Midlife Crisis Summer Tour with the Troika this year; last year brought the epic Depeche Mode excursion, and while we had looked a few times for a good follow-up this summer, a strong option had not presented itself. Until Tears For Fears announced dates that included Charlotte, and then it was on. One weekend before Labor Day, it finally was on.

Once again, I'll invoke the 'what happens on a Troika roadtrip stays on a Troika roadtrip' clause, but suffice it to say that we easily upped the ante on late-night fully clothed hotel pool jumping this time around. Why do police forfeit whatever authority they might project, the moment they start pedaling a bicycle with the little miner light on the front?

No, this note is about Tears For Fears. It is not fair to compare this show to DM's show last summer; DM rocked a massive pavillion, and TFF had an audience of about 500 at the nice, if oddly laid-out Fillmore. DM's list of hits is what, five or six times longer than TFF's? That said, when it comes to eighties nostalgia, TFF are a worthy reason for a road trip, not only becuase their best songs hold up so well, but because they give a really good show.

Roland Orzabal in particular is a must-hear; his voice is just as strong as it was twenty five years ago, and his range, baritone to falsetto, is completely intact. I don't know if Curt Smith has lost power, or if he was always the lesser vocalist live, but he had to make up for his limitations with intensity. I'm always struck by their complementarity as vocalists, particularly in studio recordings. They had a straightforward backup group: one guy who played bass or guitar depending on what Curt was playing, a drummer, a keyboardist, and Wainwright - the unfortunate opening act (think coffee house, not party starter) who earned his keep twice over with an astonishing rendition of Oleta Adams's part on 'Woman in chains'.

I'm not going to pretend I've paid any attention to TFF since 'Break it down again' in, what, 1993? I know Curt left the project, then returned. When I did my homework with the set list in preparation for the show, their more recent material left me pretty much cold (think of Berlin's early singles, and then Berlin's adult contemporary sell-out for the Top Gun soundtrack, and you have an apt comparison.) There was a dull patch of about five newer songs in the second half of the set that I could have done without. But 'Mad world', 'Pale shelter', 'Memories fade', 'Everybody wants to rule the world', 'Shout', 'Head over heels' (especially 'Head over heels'), 'Sowing the seeds of love', 'Woman in chains', and 'Break it down again' are a pretty kick-ass set all by themselves. Other than a sequencer mishap that took the chunk-chunks out of 'Mad world' partway through, the live versions were remarkably faithful to the originals.

The big insight for me? I had never considered how significant an influence prog rock - of all things - has been on TFF, from the first album on. Perhaps I didn't know my music history well enough to pick out the markers back then. Perhaps the subtle differences in the live performance forefronted these elements slightly. But consider the song structures, the willingness to make forays into quirky instrumental shifts, the frequent use of head-trippy imagery in the lyrics: it's there from The Hurting all the way through to the more generic stuff I was hearing for the first time. Go back and listen to the guitar parts in 'Pale shelter', the synth solo in 'Head over heels', the Beatles-at-their-most-experimental-esque flourishes on 'Sowing the seeds' - it's there. And I just hadn't realized it. We commonly look to punk and glam for the antecedents of new wave, as well as the synth geeks who populated Keyboard, but only a few prog folks really committed to new wave: Peter Gabriel, possibly Yes, Kate Bush (largely through association with David Gilmour.) I'd suggest that TFF are better understood as songwriters, arrangers and producers if one factors their healthy appreciation for prog.

The show had some weaknesses. For one thing, I never would have guessed that TFF would consider the logos of Alabama and Brooks & Dunn as the primary reference points for their tour logo. So country and weird that there was no way I could bring myself to consider a T-shirt. What am I going to wear to next summer's Troika-palooza now? Also, I'm fairly certain that Roland has had an upper bleph; he had that white-and-wide-eyed look more commonly found on women dans certain age on the upper west side of NYC. Curt's loss of collagen makes him look as though he's had an upper face lift; it's hard to tell. Slightly distracting on both of them, even if they were charming during the breaks between songs.

Another weakness had to have been unwitting, I imagine. Clearly TFF have benefitted in the last few years from Adam Lambert's high profile cover of 'Mad world' - done through the filter of Gary Jules's stripped down version for the Donnie Darko soundtrack. TFF would have been wiser to stick to the original version - which they did, about six songs into the set. But choosing to enter the stage to an slow, orchestral version of it probably reminded the bulk of the audience of the Adam Lambert version, which was a strange first impression. And the American Idol resonance didn't stop there. Two thirds through, Roland inexplicably sang a stripped-down, slowed down version of 'Billie Jean' - I have no idea why - that undoubtedly reminded anyone with American Idol history of the David Cook/Chris Cornell version. Two American Idol references in one eighties-retro concert does not help a band who is still trying to be taken seriously as current artists. Hm.

For me the standout moment was the close of the set, before the encores. 'Head over heels' always has been one of my favorite TFF songs - the nimble melody, the anthemic 'la, la la la la' chorus at the end, even the proggy (ha!) outro on the album version - and the band really knocked it out of the park in the live version. It was great to stand in a room with a bunch of -something year-olds, la-la-ing our hearts out to it. A brilliant chapter to my summer tradition with the Troika.

Tears For Fears official web site

Checking it twice

I didn't make a list last year; when I looked back at 2008, I had heard some great new music, but it felt like I had spent even more time digging for gems in the back catalog. This time around, the list from 2009 tells a pretty good story. So here goes, in alphabetical order, at no predetermined length: my favorite music of the year.

Lily Allen - The fear
Animal Collective - My girls
Annie - Bad times
Architecture In Helsinki - That beep
Bat For Lashes - Daniel
Beck - Sunday morning
Big Pink - Velvet
Blacklist - Flight of the demoiselles
Camera Obscura - French navy
Cold Cave - Life magazine
Decoration - Square mile (MG edit)
Deep Red/Jessica 6 - Fun girl
Depeche Mode - Fragile tension
Depreciation Guild - Dream about me
Ebony Bones! - Muzik
Editors - Bricks and mortar
Fever Ray - Now's the only time I know
FrankMusik - Better of as 2
Elizabeth Fraser - Moses
Gossip - Heavy cross
Imogen Heap - First train home
Horrors - Sea within a sea
Kiara Elles - Odio
Kleerup feat Tityo - Longing for lullabies
Mary Onettes - Puzzles
Memory Tapes - Bicycle
Metric - Satellite mind
Pains Of Being Pure At Heart - Higher than the stars
Plastiscines - Bitch
Raveonettes - Last dance
Saint Etienne - Method of modern love
Silversun Pickups - Swoon
Siouxsie & The Banshees - The sweetest chill (Chris Kimsey 12" mix)*
Tegan & Sara - Alligator
We Fell To Earth - Careful what you wish for
Whip - Frustration
Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Skeletons

* On a technicality; produced in 1986 but never released until this year...

Methinks the Lady doth provoke

These past months I have found myself intermittently confronted with Lady GaGa, but I find myself contemplating her more as a pop cultural phenomenon than a musician. I can’t think of another successful pop artist whose music and visual image operate at such a stark contrast, and that seems to be the origin of my interest.

How to make sense of her? With my eyes closed, I hear the latest in several decades’ iterations of what might be described as Euro-pop; the GaGa lineage can be traced from ABBA to Dead Or Alive to Ace of Bass. That’s a good thing because while the patterns may be lovingly worn, the practitioners who are skilled enough to use them create quintessential, infectious popular music. It’s a bad thing because when popular music is this commodified it rarely displays much in the way of a soul, and rarely endures beyond the time period it epitomizes, except for kitsch value.

With my eyes closed, in fact, I only hear a second or third rate dance act; she would be the ideal competitor in the Eurovision song contest, spinning out club singles and enjoying modest success on the dance charts.

The distinction with GaGa is, of course, her striking instincts and the increasing resources at her disposal to craft her image. With my eyes open and the sound turned down, everything changes.She has listed David Bowie, Grace Jones and Donatella Versace as style icons, and name-dropped artists like Jean-Paul Goude (who helped Grace Jones to craft her image in the early eighties); all of those references make sense. I can’t help but wonder if she isn’t familiar with Leigh Bowery; her recent forays into stylized fetish wear and vinyl headpieces suggest to me that at least someone in her camp has done the research. And the twitching specter of Marilyn Manson is never far, either.

Is this the apotheosis of the eighties, then, epitomized by a devotion to visual impact that in some cases (but not always) eclipses content and meaning, whether seen, or heard? What is distinguishing Lady GaGa on the pop landscape at the moment is her willingness to put her actual product – music – in the back seat in order to create other products: performances, videos, even appearances where she doesn’t perform. That might be a slightly hyperbolic assessment, but she is tipping the balance further than most; that’s for sure.

In Western literature we discuss works as they relate to the great lynchpin: Shakespeare. Works that predate him are examined to see how they anticipate him. Contemporary works are eclipsed (poor Christopher Marlowe…) Subsequent works face the choice of accepting his influence or struggling against it; there is no escape.

In popular music, particular popular music performed by women, the great lynchpin, for better or for worse, is Madonna. In the case of Lady Gaga, it’s a worthwhile comparison because so far there are quite a few similarities. Early experiments in New York’s downtown club scene. Demonstrations of force of will, without which a career likely wouldn’t have happened. Camraderie with, and appropriation of fringe cultures both as reference points and sources of taboos. Assiduous control of fashion and styling. A debut album that went from zero to watercooler buzz in under six months. Reasonable, but not exceptional musical skill, compensated by shrewd public relations instincts.

Several years ago Madonna tried to anoint Britney Spears to be her successor, but the choice was wrong because Britney wasn’t a product of her own creation – she lacked the essential self-determination that would enable her to endure. It was unsurprising to see Madonna make her overtures to Lady GaGa in the form of a Saturday Night Live skit a few weeks back; perhaps this time she has found a more appropriate successor.

That’s not to say it’s a foregone conclusion; Lady GaGa will have to navigate half a dozen more transmogrifications before she deserves a comparison to Madonna. For the moment, though, it’s interesting to watch. Perhaps with the sound turned down.

In a way this is consistent with what I commonly write about here: the exploration of popular music as a canon as vibrant and vital as literature. In this case, the canon in question is the hybrid canon kept alive almost single-handedly by popular music: on the one extreme is the well-worn commercial with its catchy jingle; on the other extreme is the performance art relegated to the Brooklyn Academy of Music. Somewhere in the middle is Lady GaGa.

Lady GaGa's official web site

"When I was young I knew everything..."

In the joyfully cluttered corner of cultural studies that houses popular music, a special place is reserved for the cover song. The first version of a song bears the burden of originality, even if it is diffused by decades of antecedents. But subsequent versions of the song bear the burden of an original perspective on the first; was an opportunity missed the first time around? Could a different approach show the song off in a different, possibly even better way? A good cover song confuses us, because we have heard the song before, but we are hearing it for the first time in a new way. [Transitively, the prime indicator of a bad cover song is our desire to hear the first version, instead.]

In the more specific realm of rock music, there are scores of great cover songs, many of which handily improve on the original. Most of these examples accept the muscle of the song (it is rock, after all) and seek to provide added heft and sublimity to the new version. When Pixies covered Jesus & Mary Chain's 'Head on', they upped the ante on the original's wall of guitars the only way it could be done: with punk rock bombast.

Since the nineties, though, we have seen a growing trend in rock covers: stripping a well chosen rock song back to reveal the delicate soul underneath. Obviously this is not going to work with most rock songs since most of them harbor no delicacy whatsoever. But a handful of astonishingly successful acoustic covers have challenged our assumption that all rock songs are written for power, not subtlety.

Take Tori Amos's cover of 'Smells like teen spirit' by Nirvana. Or, more recently, Johnny Cash's cover of 'Hurt' by Nine Inch Nails, and Ryan Adams's cover of 'Wonderwall' by Oasis. In each case, our first response to the cover version is disorientation: how can it be so familiar, yet so new at the same time? All the elements we assumed were vital to the songs are gone: volume, electric guitars, bluster. Who would have guessed there was something so remarkable underneath?

Recently, I had that delicious experience of disorientation again. I can't say I was much of a fan of that peculiar strain of late nineties adult alternative rock that clogged the radio stations with songs so derivative that within a season they were derivative of each other. Verve Pipe's 'The freshmen' is a prime example. Rock without danger, emo without vulnerability, pop without anything to make it memorable. These songs passed in one ear and out the other, and I never gave them a second thought.

Until I heard Daniel Kelo's version of 'The freshmen.' Who knew a lovely, heartbreaking song was hiding in that generic arrangement? Who knew such thrilling piano chord progressions could take the place of the clumsy guitars? Apparently Mr. Kelo did; he says the arrangement had been floating around in his head almost from the moment he heard the original. I'm glad he finally committed it to a recording; it's astonishing and revelatory.

Of course it's not without antecedent; Dan's skill is based in his substantial history as a technically rigorous musician. I hear echoes of Howard Jones's underappreciated keyboard skills (see 'Little bit of snow' for the perfect example) and Dan fits nicely in Peter Gabriel's lineage of rock vocalists who know how to deliver nuanced quiet performances (see Gabriel's solo piano cover version of his own 'Here comes the flood'.) But Dan has solidly staked his claim as a performer to watch with an inspired cover that trumps the original on all counts: more inspired approach, better arrangement, and better vocal performance.

Refresh your memory of the original first, and then follow this link to pick up Daniel Kelo's 'The freshmen'. You might wonder if the late nineties was such a desolate musical place after all.

Dan Kelo's official website