This feature can also be found at the South West Londoner, here.
This year's Proms are going to be taking an interesting turn, with the introduction of the Urban Classic Prom.
It
stands out as a unique event for the Royal Albert Hall show, bringing
the classical flavour of the BBC Symphony Orchestra with the grime,
hip-hop and soul inclusions of Fazer (a former member of N-Dubz), Laura
Mvula and Maverick Sabre.
But
will the marriage of styles be well received by the general public? Not
that I don't think it should, but because the Proms are often thought
of as something of a musical sacred ground.
Last
year's Prom was rather straight-laced, sticking almost entirely to
orchestra and operatic work, though taking both vintage and modern
pieces. To that end, infusing another genre, especially one that's often
(unfairly) considered as non-compatible with high-class concerts, may
be contentious.
This
concern is shared by Jules Buckley, the concert conductor, but he
remains confident that the audience can be as unified as the music. This
has me more interested in the Prom than I have been in a long time.
There
have been experimental acts in the past (Yo-Yo Ma's collaboration with
the BBC Symphony Orchestra in 2011 is a good example), and there was a
Bollywood number in 2009, but the Urban Classic Prom is a genre first
for the event.
Experimentations
with genre are some of the most fascinating things you can do with
music. For a major event like the Proms, they have a perfect platform to
introduce the idea that blurring the lines of genre can be something
worthy of a high-class performance.
On the flipside, those who find the orchestra scene difficult to access can also become acquainted to new horizons - collisions of subculture genres with classical music have been tried before to some great effect.
G. Prokofiev/Concerto for Turntables and Orchestra
is an album exactly like what it sounds. Released in 2010, turntablist
DJ Yoda turns a performance from the Heritage Orchestra into a
beat-juggled masterpiece, using the beat making sensibilities that have served high quality hip-hop for decades.
It's
a fairly major part of the urban music scene to go to complex lengths
to create music tracks - and the very best uses inventive source
material.
As a classic example, the 'Amen Break' is
an incredibly well-known sample used across all different genres and
social scenes, and it all spawned from a funk/soul joint from 1969.
The
current pop and hip-hop music industries have adopted the sounds of
'chiptune', the bleeps and boops that formed the soundtracks of games
from the 70s to the 90s. We hear them now in tracks from Labrinth to
Ke$ha to Crystal Castles. Many hip-hop tunes use direct samples, and an entire genre has recently formed from the marriage of rap and video game music.
A
lot of this kind of sampling and genre experimenation happened back
when hip-hop and electronic music was still 'underground', not garnering
so much attention and money. These days we have Daft Punk and Kanye
West – big names in sampling. Now, remixes and mash-ups are a major part
of musical expression (although sometimes lawyers disagree.)
With
the Proms, we have a major musical event that heavily features a
celebration of historically famous material. The Urban Classic Prom is
more than sampling; it's a direct collaboration between styles, eras and
cultures. It holds the potential for being just so... rich and interesting.
In
fact, it's not the only musical mash-up that will appear at the Prom
this year - The Stranglers, a punk band, will be playing with the London
Sinfonietta on 12 August. My knowledge of Punk’s musical history is
rather lacking, but I don’t doubt they’ll do it service.
Details and tickets for Urban Classical Prom are available here and information on The Stranglers performing with the Sinfonietta is available here.
Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts
Wednesday, 4 September 2013
Monday, 29 April 2013
A Jazz Interlude: Interview with George Simmonds of The Squintet
This article can also be found at the South West Londoner, here.
It's difficult being 22. For most of us, it's the point where we struggle to balance adulthood with the aftermath of university. But for George Simmonds there's a jazz quintet to lead and a music agency to run. And astoundingly, both things are rapidly gaining momentum.
A Londoner through and through and presently based in Tottenham, George has taken his love of jazz music from a young age and formed his band, The Squintet, with childhood friends and other budding artists.
George himself leads on trombone and vocals, his old high school friend Jamie Hone on saxophone, Mike Cuthbert on keyboard, and Jack Polley on bass guitar.
Rob Hervais is the newest member of the band, on the drums, replacing Bryan Taylor who left.
With them, he's shared his jazz passion all over London (including Soho, Islington and the famous The Rivoli Ballroom in Lewisham) and also abroad in Istanbul and Norway.
Over time their sound has changed - starting out with a strong swing feeling, before moving to a more funk-focused, New Orleans-style sound in recent months. The change was sparked by the drummer Rob, and George says that the band has definitely become more comfortable since.
At the start of performances with The Squintet, George likes to open with 'Honeysuckle Rose' by Fats Wallop, a piece played to him by his grandfather as a child. The version he was familiar with was performed by Acker Bilk, and the memory has always stuck with him.
His musical influences include J.J. Johnson, Jimmy Knepper (both trombonists), and Charlie Parker. More recently he's been taking on the funk-based influences of James Brown and Fred Wesley.
During a period of taking an interest in composing, Duke Ellington and Charles Mingus' jazz orchestras were a major factor.
For the last two months, George has also plunged into the world of business with the Maxwell Barrett Music Agency. Christened after his middle names, he uses it to both set up his own gigs and those of his steadily increasing client list.
After playing music professionally for three years, he felt that to go into conventional employment and have less time for his music was not an option.
Running a business in your early 20s is a fairly daunting task, so he co-runs it with his father.
New gigs are being planned all the time, and George is definitely looking to perform more in the South West London area.
You can find out about future gigs at www.maxwellbarrett.com or on his Facebook page.
It's difficult being 22. For most of us, it's the point where we struggle to balance adulthood with the aftermath of university. But for George Simmonds there's a jazz quintet to lead and a music agency to run. And astoundingly, both things are rapidly gaining momentum.
A Londoner through and through and presently based in Tottenham, George has taken his love of jazz music from a young age and formed his band, The Squintet, with childhood friends and other budding artists.
George himself leads on trombone and vocals, his old high school friend Jamie Hone on saxophone, Mike Cuthbert on keyboard, and Jack Polley on bass guitar.
Rob Hervais is the newest member of the band, on the drums, replacing Bryan Taylor who left.
With them, he's shared his jazz passion all over London (including Soho, Islington and the famous The Rivoli Ballroom in Lewisham) and also abroad in Istanbul and Norway.
Over time their sound has changed - starting out with a strong swing feeling, before moving to a more funk-focused, New Orleans-style sound in recent months. The change was sparked by the drummer Rob, and George says that the band has definitely become more comfortable since.
At the start of performances with The Squintet, George likes to open with 'Honeysuckle Rose' by Fats Wallop, a piece played to him by his grandfather as a child. The version he was familiar with was performed by Acker Bilk, and the memory has always stuck with him.
His musical influences include J.J. Johnson, Jimmy Knepper (both trombonists), and Charlie Parker. More recently he's been taking on the funk-based influences of James Brown and Fred Wesley.
During a period of taking an interest in composing, Duke Ellington and Charles Mingus' jazz orchestras were a major factor.
For the last two months, George has also plunged into the world of business with the Maxwell Barrett Music Agency. Christened after his middle names, he uses it to both set up his own gigs and those of his steadily increasing client list.
After playing music professionally for three years, he felt that to go into conventional employment and have less time for his music was not an option.
Running a business in your early 20s is a fairly daunting task, so he co-runs it with his father.
New gigs are being planned all the time, and George is definitely looking to perform more in the South West London area.
You can find out about future gigs at www.maxwellbarrett.com or on his Facebook page.
Thursday, 18 April 2013
My Big Mouth: Save Our Subcultures
This feature can also be found at the South West Londoner, here.
Violent attacks against subcultures like punks and goths are now being considered as hate crimes by the Greater Manchester Police (GMP).
What was once only the territory of politically-established social minorities (so race, religion, disability, sexuality or transgender identity) is now broadened to alternative music scenes and subcultures – at least by the GMP.
The plan to record attacks in this manner was sparked by the murder of Sophie Lancaster back in 2007. The 20-year-old goth was attacked in a park in Lancashire along with her boyfriend, Robert Maltby, simply because of their style of dress. While the boyfriend managed to survive, Ms Lancaster was not as lucky.
Because this attack was motivated by judgements about the victims’ identities, a pretty strong parallel can be drawn between attacks of this nature and existing hate crimes.
You could replace these goths with queer people or people of colour, and I could most likely find an existing news report to match. Hell, in March last year there were reports of emos in Iraq being murdered by militia, partially because the subculture is heavily associated with homosexuality there.
The crux of attacks like these is ignorant fear of identities that differ from the ‘norm’. Why the scare quotes? Because in Western culture, to be anything other than a straight white man with a taste in Top 40s pop is an ‘other’, someone to be changed or removed. It’s an awful way to think of things, really. That demographic may not be the most prevalent in terms of numbers, but social dominance counts for so much more than manpower.
Society has progressed just enough to cut some minorities some slack. You’re allowed to be, for example, black in a public place in much of the world without pulling much ire (Though sometimes it doesn’t feel that way).
But often, our identity as minorities is displayed in ways that aren’t physiological. There’s nothing in terms of body type that separates straight men from gay ones, but there’s a laundry list of ‘coded behaviour’ that society decides is indicative of being gay, or religious, or yes – belonging to a subculture.
What raises the hackles of violent bigots is that people who differ from the ‘norm’ have the temerity to express themselves openly, and think that beating them will change that in some way. That seems very much like hate crime to me.
That
subcultures are largely tied to musical tastes, rather than biology may
cause some to feel that they aren’t appropriately equitable to the
other minorities, but I have issues with that.
Most notably, there are some subcultures that are heavily involved in socio-political struggles. Punk as a movement revolves around being non-conformist, and as such features heavy streaks of anti-racist and anti-sexist ideologies.
The emo scene, while considered rather male dominated, embraces emotional openness (hence the name) and androgynous fashions, making it a social safe haven for many queer teenagers.
The workings and intricacies of subcultures is just as fascinating to me as learning about feminism, racial history and queer theory, and deserves to be respected in a similar manner. For a glimpse of just how vastly different subcultures can be, take a look at Urban Tribes. Hours will fly by.
The official consideration of subcultures as being part of the hate crime demographic is a while off – England’s courts cannot recognise its legitimacy, and the GMP are the only police force that are recording it.
But all is not lost. By bringing the idea up as a point to be seriously considered, the public are also forced to think of those who are part of alternative scenes as people, not targets.
What this news hopefully won’t do is get people arguing over which minority has it worse, and flinging mud at whatever groups might have it easier. These kinds of ‘Oppression Olympics’ aren’t helpful to discussion; those who try to start them require immediate defenestration.
Note: Simon Price’s entry on The Guardian’s Comment is Free gives a great break down on different subcultures, as well as detailing his own experiences of being targeted.
Violent attacks against subcultures like punks and goths are now being considered as hate crimes by the Greater Manchester Police (GMP).
What was once only the territory of politically-established social minorities (so race, religion, disability, sexuality or transgender identity) is now broadened to alternative music scenes and subcultures – at least by the GMP.
The plan to record attacks in this manner was sparked by the murder of Sophie Lancaster back in 2007. The 20-year-old goth was attacked in a park in Lancashire along with her boyfriend, Robert Maltby, simply because of their style of dress. While the boyfriend managed to survive, Ms Lancaster was not as lucky.
Because this attack was motivated by judgements about the victims’ identities, a pretty strong parallel can be drawn between attacks of this nature and existing hate crimes.
You could replace these goths with queer people or people of colour, and I could most likely find an existing news report to match. Hell, in March last year there were reports of emos in Iraq being murdered by militia, partially because the subculture is heavily associated with homosexuality there.
The crux of attacks like these is ignorant fear of identities that differ from the ‘norm’. Why the scare quotes? Because in Western culture, to be anything other than a straight white man with a taste in Top 40s pop is an ‘other’, someone to be changed or removed. It’s an awful way to think of things, really. That demographic may not be the most prevalent in terms of numbers, but social dominance counts for so much more than manpower.
Society has progressed just enough to cut some minorities some slack. You’re allowed to be, for example, black in a public place in much of the world without pulling much ire (Though sometimes it doesn’t feel that way).
But often, our identity as minorities is displayed in ways that aren’t physiological. There’s nothing in terms of body type that separates straight men from gay ones, but there’s a laundry list of ‘coded behaviour’ that society decides is indicative of being gay, or religious, or yes – belonging to a subculture.
What raises the hackles of violent bigots is that people who differ from the ‘norm’ have the temerity to express themselves openly, and think that beating them will change that in some way. That seems very much like hate crime to me.
Most notably, there are some subcultures that are heavily involved in socio-political struggles. Punk as a movement revolves around being non-conformist, and as such features heavy streaks of anti-racist and anti-sexist ideologies.
The emo scene, while considered rather male dominated, embraces emotional openness (hence the name) and androgynous fashions, making it a social safe haven for many queer teenagers.
The workings and intricacies of subcultures is just as fascinating to me as learning about feminism, racial history and queer theory, and deserves to be respected in a similar manner. For a glimpse of just how vastly different subcultures can be, take a look at Urban Tribes. Hours will fly by.
The official consideration of subcultures as being part of the hate crime demographic is a while off – England’s courts cannot recognise its legitimacy, and the GMP are the only police force that are recording it.
But all is not lost. By bringing the idea up as a point to be seriously considered, the public are also forced to think of those who are part of alternative scenes as people, not targets.
What this news hopefully won’t do is get people arguing over which minority has it worse, and flinging mud at whatever groups might have it easier. These kinds of ‘Oppression Olympics’ aren’t helpful to discussion; those who try to start them require immediate defenestration.
Note: Simon Price’s entry on The Guardian’s Comment is Free gives a great break down on different subcultures, as well as detailing his own experiences of being targeted.
Film Review: A Late Quartet
This review can also be found at the South West Londoner, here.
Despite my constant burning need to see pretentious non-mainstream film (if it's in a different language or about socio-politics, even better), my knowledge of the fine arts is actually not so great.
My initial interest in seeing A Late Quartet was, embarrassingly, because Christopher Walken takes a major role in it. He's had a myriad of roles and cameos in films since the 60s, many of which ended up being cult hits. He even starred in some terrible video games in the mid 90s.
A large part of his popularity is his notably stilted speech, and since it tends to work best in comedies, I was interested to see how he would fare in something that looked to be so serious.
As it turns out, A Late Quartet is wonderfully human and moving, and Walken does a great performance by... largely not being there. It's an odd situation.
Pete Mitchell (Walken) is the cellist in an internationally famous string quartet called The Fugue. He shares the spotlight with Daniel Lerner (Mark Ivanir) on Violin I, Robert Gelbart (Philip Seymour Hoffman) on Violin II and Juliette Gelbart (Catherine Keener) on Viola.
Recently Pete's playing has been affected by his shaking hands. After a doctors appointment, he finds out that it's Parkinsons, and bows out from The Fugue, asking the other members to find a replacement.
As it turns out, this upset sparks desires for change in the rest of the quartet, and emotional havoc ensues.
It's all very melodramatic, but the way the script is written makes that not matter. All the narrative points are closely and expertly woven in with the films themes, in a way that you won't need a degree in media studies to get (though a little knowledge about classical music will help).
The ideas are honestly clever, from the way that the amount of time Pete is on screen is related to how badly he's suffering from his condition (though he's arguably the protagonist, Parkinsons is very effective at taking away his agency, both as a disease and in the script), to how the emotional issues of the quartet match up nicely with the musical role they play.
The soundtrack was funnily enough, a mixed bag. There are some elegant and well timed cues of classical string pieces, including the one piece that the film is arguably 'about', that I won't spoil for you. However, it's matched with a general orchestral score that feels very generic. Although the two musical styles share instruments, the feel is very different. It made some scenes feel notably schmaltzy - though that may just be my jaded heart.
That said, the experience as a whole was touching. It manages to pull you along on an emotionally manipulative ride so well you'd think it was a Hollywood production, if it wasn't for the quietly middle class subject matter.
Watch It: If you know your way around a string section, If you want to see a cult actor happily make peace with his age on film, if you want a talking point for your film discussion club.
Skip It: If the phrase 'human drama' makes you dry heave, if you're not ready to make peace with your age, if you want something that doesn't feature the American Middle Class.
Want more? Go and check out some live classical quartets! I promise, it's a moving experience the first time. If you want to see Walken in something cheerier, he has a great supporting role in Catch Me If You Can.
Despite my constant burning need to see pretentious non-mainstream film (if it's in a different language or about socio-politics, even better), my knowledge of the fine arts is actually not so great.
My initial interest in seeing A Late Quartet was, embarrassingly, because Christopher Walken takes a major role in it. He's had a myriad of roles and cameos in films since the 60s, many of which ended up being cult hits. He even starred in some terrible video games in the mid 90s.
A large part of his popularity is his notably stilted speech, and since it tends to work best in comedies, I was interested to see how he would fare in something that looked to be so serious.
As it turns out, A Late Quartet is wonderfully human and moving, and Walken does a great performance by... largely not being there. It's an odd situation.
Pete Mitchell (Walken) is the cellist in an internationally famous string quartet called The Fugue. He shares the spotlight with Daniel Lerner (Mark Ivanir) on Violin I, Robert Gelbart (Philip Seymour Hoffman) on Violin II and Juliette Gelbart (Catherine Keener) on Viola.
Recently Pete's playing has been affected by his shaking hands. After a doctors appointment, he finds out that it's Parkinsons, and bows out from The Fugue, asking the other members to find a replacement.
As it turns out, this upset sparks desires for change in the rest of the quartet, and emotional havoc ensues.
It's all very melodramatic, but the way the script is written makes that not matter. All the narrative points are closely and expertly woven in with the films themes, in a way that you won't need a degree in media studies to get (though a little knowledge about classical music will help).
The ideas are honestly clever, from the way that the amount of time Pete is on screen is related to how badly he's suffering from his condition (though he's arguably the protagonist, Parkinsons is very effective at taking away his agency, both as a disease and in the script), to how the emotional issues of the quartet match up nicely with the musical role they play.
The soundtrack was funnily enough, a mixed bag. There are some elegant and well timed cues of classical string pieces, including the one piece that the film is arguably 'about', that I won't spoil for you. However, it's matched with a general orchestral score that feels very generic. Although the two musical styles share instruments, the feel is very different. It made some scenes feel notably schmaltzy - though that may just be my jaded heart.
That said, the experience as a whole was touching. It manages to pull you along on an emotionally manipulative ride so well you'd think it was a Hollywood production, if it wasn't for the quietly middle class subject matter.
Watch It: If you know your way around a string section, If you want to see a cult actor happily make peace with his age on film, if you want a talking point for your film discussion club.
Skip It: If the phrase 'human drama' makes you dry heave, if you're not ready to make peace with your age, if you want something that doesn't feature the American Middle Class.
Want more? Go and check out some live classical quartets! I promise, it's a moving experience the first time. If you want to see Walken in something cheerier, he has a great supporting role in Catch Me If You Can.
Friday, 10 August 2012
Gym Class Heroes - The Papercut Chronicles II
This review can also be found at The Yorker.
I caught Gym Class Heroes with their second album, As Cruel as School Children, and it worked out well for my 15 year old self. It took a stance just on the fringe of what ANGSTY TEENS would listen to, kept a cool mix of rap and rock (because who didn't have that foolish dichotomy in high school?), and did a neat job of being relevant - though I can only chuckle at the references to My Space in 'New Friend Request'.
Though since then, while Gym Class Heroes haven't exactly gotten worse, the image they portray has changed. The Papercut Chronicles II is in direct reference to their first album in 2005; but I don't quite feel like that callback is apt, this is the lead vocalist Travis fitting into his mainstream role.
Things start out strong - skipping over the intro track, 'Martyrial Girl$' has a guitar and drumline aggressiveness and tension that reminds me of the sound direction for No More Heroes; punchy with a bit of grit, but not about to drive off those who wouldn't be a fan of something too thrash-y.
The problem starts for me with the track, immediately following, 'Life Goes On'. All sense of aggressiveness is lost, and it all goes in the direction of a love ballad - but with none of the funkiness, they managed to give that concept in the past. Even worse is that the style is pretty much repeated with a later track in 'Ass Back Home, which feels incredibly weak.
Speaking of which, how did you feel about Maroon 5's 'Moves Like Jagger'? Did it make you cringe and despair like me? If so then you'll absolutely love 'Stereo Hearts', which features Adam Levine's once reasonable, but now grating crooning. The common theme between these three songs is the unnecessary guest artist. They all feel compromising, and the strength of these songs are considerably weakened as a result.
Indeed, 'Solo Discotheque' and 'Holy Horses**t, Batman!' are much closer to what I like about Gym Class Heroes, with 'Holy' being an amusing little ditty about scepticism over religion. Not exactly profound, but the funky bridge it has makes up for that.
'Lazarus, Ze Gitan' is the most hip-hop influenced, but the subject matter leaves a bad taste in my mouth. It's another one of those songs where the male singer is all jaded about relationships, because no one's ever good enough for them (but they're so lonely, damn it!). That, coupled with the previous track's Nil-Nil-Draw being a pouty break-up song ("But you're too dumb to understand; I could have any girl," says the chorus) makes Travis sound like a big jerk. And who knows, he may well be.
It's cliché to say that a new album has none of the flavour that you once loved in a previous work, but I don't know what else to say here. While I will come back to 'Martyrial Girl$', my love for Gym Class Heroes has remained firmly in 2006.
I caught Gym Class Heroes with their second album, As Cruel as School Children, and it worked out well for my 15 year old self. It took a stance just on the fringe of what ANGSTY TEENS would listen to, kept a cool mix of rap and rock (because who didn't have that foolish dichotomy in high school?), and did a neat job of being relevant - though I can only chuckle at the references to My Space in 'New Friend Request'.
©Waner Brothers, Fueled by Ramen
Though since then, while Gym Class Heroes haven't exactly gotten worse, the image they portray has changed. The Papercut Chronicles II is in direct reference to their first album in 2005; but I don't quite feel like that callback is apt, this is the lead vocalist Travis fitting into his mainstream role.
Things start out strong - skipping over the intro track, 'Martyrial Girl$' has a guitar and drumline aggressiveness and tension that reminds me of the sound direction for No More Heroes; punchy with a bit of grit, but not about to drive off those who wouldn't be a fan of something too thrash-y.
The problem starts for me with the track, immediately following, 'Life Goes On'. All sense of aggressiveness is lost, and it all goes in the direction of a love ballad - but with none of the funkiness, they managed to give that concept in the past. Even worse is that the style is pretty much repeated with a later track in 'Ass Back Home, which feels incredibly weak.
Speaking of which, how did you feel about Maroon 5's 'Moves Like Jagger'? Did it make you cringe and despair like me? If so then you'll absolutely love 'Stereo Hearts', which features Adam Levine's once reasonable, but now grating crooning. The common theme between these three songs is the unnecessary guest artist. They all feel compromising, and the strength of these songs are considerably weakened as a result.
Indeed, 'Solo Discotheque' and 'Holy Horses**t, Batman!' are much closer to what I like about Gym Class Heroes, with 'Holy' being an amusing little ditty about scepticism over religion. Not exactly profound, but the funky bridge it has makes up for that.
'Lazarus, Ze Gitan' is the most hip-hop influenced, but the subject matter leaves a bad taste in my mouth. It's another one of those songs where the male singer is all jaded about relationships, because no one's ever good enough for them (but they're so lonely, damn it!). That, coupled with the previous track's Nil-Nil-Draw being a pouty break-up song ("But you're too dumb to understand; I could have any girl," says the chorus) makes Travis sound like a big jerk. And who knows, he may well be.
It's cliché to say that a new album has none of the flavour that you once loved in a previous work, but I don't know what else to say here. While I will come back to 'Martyrial Girl$', my love for Gym Class Heroes has remained firmly in 2006.
Chiddy Bang - Breakfast
This review can also be found at The Yorker (whoops, I overlooked mirroring this one...)
It's been a while since I listened to an album with honestly interesting sampling. One of the things I love about hip-hop (and music inspired by such) is beat-making in original ways. A lot of instrumental hip-hop goes heavy on the piano and brass samples, which are excellent, though not as common as it used to be.
Thankfully, Chiddy Bang's Breakfast, the duo's first full album after a mixtape in 2010, has funky and creative beats from the start. The intro is a cute little soundscape with piano backing that reminds me strongly of Nicolay's work. But that's contrasted hard with 'Breakfast', the punchiest discussion of a mealtime you'll ever hear with booming 808s and a solid demonstration of Chiddy's rap skills - clear and rhythmic without resorting to painful half-rhymes or hashtag rapping.
Beat-wise, 'Handclaps & Guitars' is what is says on the tin, with this weird Owl City-ish chorus, and 'Mind Your Manners' has an odd but catch voice sample from Icona Pop's 'Manners' (which may prove grating for some) and a sweet-as switch in the beat at 1:43.
'Ray Charles' was one of the Singles for this album; definitely a solid choice. It might be a bit of an unfortunate choice for Chiddy to compare himself to the famous jazz pianist based around just his shades-wearing habits and weed consumption - but the track as a whole sticks to its amusing and silly theme.
'Does She Love Me?' has its groove set firmly in a romantic sentiment from its opening bar, and it's by far my favourite track on the album. The the quiet synth chords and the ooohing chorus is an aural dream come true, juxtaposed by lyrics about romantic frustrations, just in case you were tempted to think Chiddy Bang has gone soft.
Things slow down a little after this point. The beat to 'Run it Back' struggles to compete with 'Does She Love Me?', although the chiptune aspects to it interesting (if outclassed by a later track I'll get to). Out 2 Space doesn't do it for me, alas. It's just lacks a catchy element, though the space-y feel is spot on.
There's a seemingly out-of-place Interlude for track 10, but its melody gels with the following track, 'Talking to Myself', which has a solid bassline groove coupled with violin plucks and a light piano, of all things. However, that pales in comparison to the penultimate track, 'Baby Roulette'.
It competes for the accolade of 'best track' with 'Does She Love Me?', losing out just slightly. It's slow, goofy beat is heavily chiptune based, and would find a happy home in an episode of Adventure Time, strangely paired with a rap about avoiding university pregnancy. The chorus cracks me up ("I hope you know that I'm for real / My love is super-sized, ain't no Happy Meal"), and the whole thing just puts a smile on my face. It's a shame then, that it's followed by one of the most boring tracks on the album, '4th Quarter'. It's loud and repetitive, and could have been removed entirely to give Breakfast a way stronger ending.
Chiddy Bang definitely impress with their fun sampling and use of chiptune, and Chiddy's rapping is well-crafted with a neat habit of staying in theme with the track's title. The general content doesn't go much further beyond discussing marijuana and sleeping with pretty ladies; but I can forgive that - not all hip-hop has to be politically inspired, and either way Breakfast is very refreshing. Consume it today.
It's been a while since I listened to an album with honestly interesting sampling. One of the things I love about hip-hop (and music inspired by such) is beat-making in original ways. A lot of instrumental hip-hop goes heavy on the piano and brass samples, which are excellent, though not as common as it used to be.
©Regal
Thankfully, Chiddy Bang's Breakfast, the duo's first full album after a mixtape in 2010, has funky and creative beats from the start. The intro is a cute little soundscape with piano backing that reminds me strongly of Nicolay's work. But that's contrasted hard with 'Breakfast', the punchiest discussion of a mealtime you'll ever hear with booming 808s and a solid demonstration of Chiddy's rap skills - clear and rhythmic without resorting to painful half-rhymes or hashtag rapping.
Beat-wise, 'Handclaps & Guitars' is what is says on the tin, with this weird Owl City-ish chorus, and 'Mind Your Manners' has an odd but catch voice sample from Icona Pop's 'Manners' (which may prove grating for some) and a sweet-as switch in the beat at 1:43.
'Ray Charles' was one of the Singles for this album; definitely a solid choice. It might be a bit of an unfortunate choice for Chiddy to compare himself to the famous jazz pianist based around just his shades-wearing habits and weed consumption - but the track as a whole sticks to its amusing and silly theme.
'Does She Love Me?' has its groove set firmly in a romantic sentiment from its opening bar, and it's by far my favourite track on the album. The the quiet synth chords and the ooohing chorus is an aural dream come true, juxtaposed by lyrics about romantic frustrations, just in case you were tempted to think Chiddy Bang has gone soft.
Things slow down a little after this point. The beat to 'Run it Back' struggles to compete with 'Does She Love Me?', although the chiptune aspects to it interesting (if outclassed by a later track I'll get to). Out 2 Space doesn't do it for me, alas. It's just lacks a catchy element, though the space-y feel is spot on.
There's a seemingly out-of-place Interlude for track 10, but its melody gels with the following track, 'Talking to Myself', which has a solid bassline groove coupled with violin plucks and a light piano, of all things. However, that pales in comparison to the penultimate track, 'Baby Roulette'.
It competes for the accolade of 'best track' with 'Does She Love Me?', losing out just slightly. It's slow, goofy beat is heavily chiptune based, and would find a happy home in an episode of Adventure Time, strangely paired with a rap about avoiding university pregnancy. The chorus cracks me up ("I hope you know that I'm for real / My love is super-sized, ain't no Happy Meal"), and the whole thing just puts a smile on my face. It's a shame then, that it's followed by one of the most boring tracks on the album, '4th Quarter'. It's loud and repetitive, and could have been removed entirely to give Breakfast a way stronger ending.
Chiddy Bang definitely impress with their fun sampling and use of chiptune, and Chiddy's rapping is well-crafted with a neat habit of staying in theme with the track's title. The general content doesn't go much further beyond discussing marijuana and sleeping with pretty ladies; but I can forgive that - not all hip-hop has to be politically inspired, and either way Breakfast is very refreshing. Consume it today.
Tuesday, 31 July 2012
Patient Zero - Curse and Regret (Promo Material)
I wrote this as promo copy for a musical friend of mine, Patient Zero, the album's fully open to the public now, so go check it out!
Many may know Patient Zero from his collaboration with the Internet video group the Yogscast - ‘Dwarf Hole (Diggy Diggy Hole)’ took both YouTube and iTunes by storm. Following on from that great success, and to continue his long line of album releases; Patient Zero’s new album Curse and Regret is hitting iTunes, Amazon MP3 and Spotify this July.
For those not part of the scene, electronica and trance can be intimidating genres. At first blush the sound may be hard and clashing, but Curse and Regret offers some solid tunes that even newcomers to the genre will fit right in with.
To be specific, Curse and Regret is Electronic Body Music (or EBM); think Trance with Industrial sensibilities. However, precise pigeon-holing only gets you so far - Patient Zero takes on the genre from multiple angles and it works for the better; keeping things fresh.
‘Humanity Will Lie’ is a strong start with a solid club vibe, and fun, distorted vocals that are a running theme through the album. There’s a finely-tuned balance between lyrics that exude dark humour, club hype, and just a touch of campness. You may well find yourself singing along with the simple chorus of ‘Raise those Horns’ or the upbeat and poppy verses of ‘The Band Played On’.
For those who want something more experimental, ‘Eins’ goes down the route of a sample-based track (remember DJ Shadow’s Entroducing?), with the cheeky decision to build the vocals out of porn samples and a cut from a sex-negative sermon, for an amusing contrast.
For more down-tempo vibes, there’s ‘Take my Death Away’, with its airy and futuristic vibe; or the piano-based instrumental of ‘The Burden of Distance’ that both work wonderfully as a mellow middle to the album.
Those who have been anticipating a follow-up to ‘Dwarf Hole’ need not hold their breath any longer - ‘Dig It’ brings back samples from the Yogscast for a more punchy feel than its predecessor with a retro video game feel. Your Minecraft sessions need never go silent again.
Curse and Regret will be available from the 20th of June via the aforesaid locations, as well as Last.fm, Google Music Store, Myspace Music, and of course Patient Zero’s Bandcamp site - where his previous albums and singles can also be found. For more information on Patient Zero’s music, as well as news and updates, visit http://doctorzero.tumblr.com/ .
Many may know Patient Zero from his collaboration with the Internet video group the Yogscast - ‘Dwarf Hole (Diggy Diggy Hole)’ took both YouTube and iTunes by storm. Following on from that great success, and to continue his long line of album releases; Patient Zero’s new album Curse and Regret is hitting iTunes, Amazon MP3 and Spotify this July.
For those not part of the scene, electronica and trance can be intimidating genres. At first blush the sound may be hard and clashing, but Curse and Regret offers some solid tunes that even newcomers to the genre will fit right in with.
To be specific, Curse and Regret is Electronic Body Music (or EBM); think Trance with Industrial sensibilities. However, precise pigeon-holing only gets you so far - Patient Zero takes on the genre from multiple angles and it works for the better; keeping things fresh.
‘Humanity Will Lie’ is a strong start with a solid club vibe, and fun, distorted vocals that are a running theme through the album. There’s a finely-tuned balance between lyrics that exude dark humour, club hype, and just a touch of campness. You may well find yourself singing along with the simple chorus of ‘Raise those Horns’ or the upbeat and poppy verses of ‘The Band Played On’.
For those who want something more experimental, ‘Eins’ goes down the route of a sample-based track (remember DJ Shadow’s Entroducing?), with the cheeky decision to build the vocals out of porn samples and a cut from a sex-negative sermon, for an amusing contrast.
For more down-tempo vibes, there’s ‘Take my Death Away’, with its airy and futuristic vibe; or the piano-based instrumental of ‘The Burden of Distance’ that both work wonderfully as a mellow middle to the album.
Those who have been anticipating a follow-up to ‘Dwarf Hole’ need not hold their breath any longer - ‘Dig It’ brings back samples from the Yogscast for a more punchy feel than its predecessor with a retro video game feel. Your Minecraft sessions need never go silent again.
Curse and Regret will be available from the 20th of June via the aforesaid locations, as well as Last.fm, Google Music Store, Myspace Music, and of course Patient Zero’s Bandcamp site - where his previous albums and singles can also be found. For more information on Patient Zero’s music, as well as news and updates, visit http://doctorzero.tumblr.com/ .
Sunday, 15 July 2012
Metric - Synthetica
This review can be found at The Yorker, here.
I initially found out about Metric though the film Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World, where they composed one of the many guest songs (the film is, in part, about Canadian indie bands, after all), 'Black Sheep'. I adored this track - it was energetic, but only on the cusp of being aggressive; with seductive vocals by lead Emily Haines, and a chorus that makes you want to air guitar - if you're a cool person like me.
Their 2010 album, Fantasies, was of a very similar sound to 'Black Sheep', and I became a solid a fan of their work. So coming to Synthetica, my expectations were very high, but I was expecting something rather specific. Not to demand that my favourite artists should deliver the same experience with every album, but in a Summer holiday state of mind, an album like Fantasies would be just what the doctor ordered.
Thing is, Synthetica is a rather different pill to swallow.
The message is clear from the opening track, 'Artificial Nocturne'; the album is a lot more low-key. The vocals and drums are still pride of place, but the quiet, slightly distorted synths and the droning guitars are sedately menacing; it's a pleasant surprise.
The following track, 'Youth Without Youth' is closer to the sound I'm familiar with, but it falls short with the lyric repetition that shows up fairly often in Metric's songs being performed in an irritating monotone. From there, things go back to the chill vibes, with 'Speed The Collapse'. The rippling guitars in the background are decidely Muse-ish, with a chorus that actually makes me think of Blackmore's Night, which makes for an interesting overall tone.
'Dreams so Real' sticks out as my favourite of the album - It grabs me from its opening riff, more square wave than guitar string, the chanting repetition of "Shut up and carry on; the scream becomes a yawn" is relaxing in some unnerving way. It's only 2:40, though. I'd love an extended version that builds up a little more.
'Lost Kitten' is fun and kitschy in a twee, coquettish way (right down to an introduction of xylophones and finger snapping), but it feels it would be better suited to an advert for iPhones or UniQlo than my music collection. 'The Void' hits you with a really annoying synth distort, and doesn't really manage to redeem itself afterwards. It's also rather cutesy, but nowhere near as endearing as 'Lost Kitten'.
As the title track, 'Synthetica' is solid- a more traditional Metric sound. The vocals are more languid than say, 'Help I'm Alive', but it fits perfectly with the rest of the album's tone, and that kind of consistency is a positive in my book.
'The Wanderlust' is very much an oddity, built upon distant, watery piano - and out of nowhere, male vocals from Lou Reed on the chorus, evoking a folk rock-style sound. It took me a few listens to get into it, but its uniqueness won me over.
It's worth mentioning that there are 5 additonal bonus tracks (available on Spotify and via iTunes preorder, at least) that are synth-heavy 80's-ish versions of melodies from the album. It's an odd addition, but I honestly like it a lot. It reminds me of the 'Exogenesis' tracks on Muse's The Resistance - in fact, the album as a whole reminds me of that divisive endeavour; especially since Synthetica is a big drift from Metric's normal sound.
It would be all too easy to take Synthetica at first glance and go "It's different; I don't like it", and maybe the more relaxed and less punchy composition honestly isn't for you - but there's no denying that this album is solidly made and will fit snugly in the collections of those who open to a little Shoegaze in their lives.
So hipsters, basically.
I initially found out about Metric though the film Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World, where they composed one of the many guest songs (the film is, in part, about Canadian indie bands, after all), 'Black Sheep'. I adored this track - it was energetic, but only on the cusp of being aggressive; with seductive vocals by lead Emily Haines, and a chorus that makes you want to air guitar - if you're a cool person like me.
Their 2010 album, Fantasies, was of a very similar sound to 'Black Sheep', and I became a solid a fan of their work. So coming to Synthetica, my expectations were very high, but I was expecting something rather specific. Not to demand that my favourite artists should deliver the same experience with every album, but in a Summer holiday state of mind, an album like Fantasies would be just what the doctor ordered.
Thing is, Synthetica is a rather different pill to swallow.
The message is clear from the opening track, 'Artificial Nocturne'; the album is a lot more low-key. The vocals and drums are still pride of place, but the quiet, slightly distorted synths and the droning guitars are sedately menacing; it's a pleasant surprise.
The following track, 'Youth Without Youth' is closer to the sound I'm familiar with, but it falls short with the lyric repetition that shows up fairly often in Metric's songs being performed in an irritating monotone. From there, things go back to the chill vibes, with 'Speed The Collapse'. The rippling guitars in the background are decidely Muse-ish, with a chorus that actually makes me think of Blackmore's Night, which makes for an interesting overall tone.
'Dreams so Real' sticks out as my favourite of the album - It grabs me from its opening riff, more square wave than guitar string, the chanting repetition of "Shut up and carry on; the scream becomes a yawn" is relaxing in some unnerving way. It's only 2:40, though. I'd love an extended version that builds up a little more.
'Lost Kitten' is fun and kitschy in a twee, coquettish way (right down to an introduction of xylophones and finger snapping), but it feels it would be better suited to an advert for iPhones or UniQlo than my music collection. 'The Void' hits you with a really annoying synth distort, and doesn't really manage to redeem itself afterwards. It's also rather cutesy, but nowhere near as endearing as 'Lost Kitten'.
As the title track, 'Synthetica' is solid- a more traditional Metric sound. The vocals are more languid than say, 'Help I'm Alive', but it fits perfectly with the rest of the album's tone, and that kind of consistency is a positive in my book.
'The Wanderlust' is very much an oddity, built upon distant, watery piano - and out of nowhere, male vocals from Lou Reed on the chorus, evoking a folk rock-style sound. It took me a few listens to get into it, but its uniqueness won me over.
It's worth mentioning that there are 5 additonal bonus tracks (available on Spotify and via iTunes preorder, at least) that are synth-heavy 80's-ish versions of melodies from the album. It's an odd addition, but I honestly like it a lot. It reminds me of the 'Exogenesis' tracks on Muse's The Resistance - in fact, the album as a whole reminds me of that divisive endeavour; especially since Synthetica is a big drift from Metric's normal sound.
It would be all too easy to take Synthetica at first glance and go "It's different; I don't like it", and maybe the more relaxed and less punchy composition honestly isn't for you - but there's no denying that this album is solidly made and will fit snugly in the collections of those who open to a little Shoegaze in their lives.
So hipsters, basically.
Thursday, 12 July 2012
Four Great Video Game Composers
This article can also be found (with additional entries by other writers) at The Yorker, here.
It can sometimes feel that soundtrack composers don't get a lot of credit. Unlike with the general music industry, there's comparatively little focus paid to those who write the soundtracks for film & TV; and maybe even less for games. But if you take the time to look (or get totally immersed in video game nerdery like we do); there are plenty of composers for video games, old and new, who create tunes with aplomb; getting the tone and emotion of a title in a sweet spot that just couldn't be obtained without their work.
It can sometimes feel that soundtrack composers don't get a lot of credit. Unlike with the general music industry, there's comparatively little focus paid to those who write the soundtracks for film & TV; and maybe even less for games. But if you take the time to look (or get totally immersed in video game nerdery like we do); there are plenty of composers for video games, old and new, who create tunes with aplomb; getting the tone and emotion of a title in a sweet spot that just couldn't be obtained without their work.
Masafumi Takada
Tending to work alongside the unorthodox auteur developer Suda51, Takada has lent his talent to many of the early games produced by Grasshopper Studios, such as Killer 7, No More Heroes, and Flower Sun and Rain. His style is often very atmospheric and heavy, but with such quirky titles that he's worked on, there'll occasionally be tracks that are suddenly upbeat and energetic. These days he works outside of Grasshopper Studios, mostly doing low-key Japanese only titles. His most recent work surprisingly features in Kid Icarus: Uprising!Masashi Hamauzu
Generally when thinking of the music in the Final Fantasy series, long-time veteran Nobuo Uematsu comes to mind. But the more recent titles in the series have a different lead musician - Hamauzu. Cutting his teeth on other Square Enix titles (Notably SaGa Frontier II), he then collaborated with Uematsu on Final Fantasy X, showing a more lighthearted and instrumentally varied style from his collegue. After Uematsu left Square Enix to follow his own projects, Hamauzu took over as lead composer and put together the beautiful soundtracks of Final Fantasy XIII and XIII-2. He now has his own music studio, Monomusik.Shoji Meguro
Differing from the two previous composers I adore, Meguro has a single, veru distinct style - but it's so solid and catchy, I can't help but love it. He's worked closely with the RPG giant Atlus ever since 1996 with Revelations: Persona - and has consistently worked on games within the Shin Megami Tensei series (and a few outliers) since then. His style is very rock-heavy, but he also has a strong love for using brass and piano in his songs, resulting in songs that are closer to hip-hop beats. A special mention should be given to his work in Shin Megami Tensei: Strange Journey, where his normal approach is reworked into a menacing, militaristic soundtrack that fits the game's tone perfectly.Virt (Jake Kaufman)
The independent game design movement hasn't just been a great opportunity for coders and artists - but also musicians. Virt A.K.A. Jake Kaufman started out doing fan remixes of existing video game tunes on OC Remix; but he soon found a professional home with developers WayForward - and he's been getting his high-quality work out there in a subtle way ever since the Game Boy Colour. Special mentions go to the music of Shantae, which was just as technically detailed as its graphics; BloodRayne: Betrayal for being stylistically different from his other work; and Mighty Switch Force for being bombastically funky. There's often a lot of compilation work between indie game musicians, which are also worth a gander.Wednesday, 28 March 2012
Nero, Manchester Academy 1, 16/03
This review can be found at The Yorker, here.
As someone who's always gets on edge when surrounded by strangers in a small space, going to a dubstep concert with a moshpit seemed like a ridiculous step up from the awful clubs I've been too, but approaching the Manchester Academy with Alex Jackson as my guide and fellow explorer, we delved into the murky depths of the Nero concert.
The first odd thing of note was the age of those present. The concert was available to 14 year olds and up, and the turnout reflected that. I felt... old. But at the very least it meant I could get a good view of the stage at all times. The stage itself has a large monolith made of CRT televisions, fake speakers (there were enough huge, working speakers on the set already) and an arcade cabinet. It was like a testament to 80s culture that barely anyone present would have even experienced first-hand. With the clamouring audience factored in, it smacked of more than a little DJ worship.
Once Nero came on after an opening DJ set, I began to realise that, although the environment here was 10 times more claustrophobic, sweaty and violent than any club I'd been to, I was still enjoying myself. Because, for the first time, the music was actually something I wanted to dance to. Nero decided to open with 'New Life' and 'Doomsday', and that set the tone for the entire performance.
The set consisted of mostly their 2011 album Welcome Reality, which, if you've not heard it, I would describe as a nice lead-in to Dubstep if you're wary of the genre, but already listen to the likes of Justice or Danger. For the tracks with full lyrics ('My Eyes', 'Me and You', 'Promises'), their vocalist Alana Watson was called to the stage, taking the spotlight, while Daniel Stephens and Joseph Ray generally hid behind their equipment.
While there were some remixes worked in there (a dark and heavy version of 'Crush on You' being the most impressive), they were very subtle, you'd have to be very familiar with the album to pick up the variations. As someone who likes a bit of turntableism, I was hoping for some scratching and beat-juggling, and was a bit disappointed when that didn't happen, though that may be an unrealistic hope.
As someone who's always gets on edge when surrounded by strangers in a small space, going to a dubstep concert with a moshpit seemed like a ridiculous step up from the awful clubs I've been too, but approaching the Manchester Academy with Alex Jackson as my guide and fellow explorer, we delved into the murky depths of the Nero concert.
The first odd thing of note was the age of those present. The concert was available to 14 year olds and up, and the turnout reflected that. I felt... old. But at the very least it meant I could get a good view of the stage at all times. The stage itself has a large monolith made of CRT televisions, fake speakers (there were enough huge, working speakers on the set already) and an arcade cabinet. It was like a testament to 80s culture that barely anyone present would have even experienced first-hand. With the clamouring audience factored in, it smacked of more than a little DJ worship.
Once Nero came on after an opening DJ set, I began to realise that, although the environment here was 10 times more claustrophobic, sweaty and violent than any club I'd been to, I was still enjoying myself. Because, for the first time, the music was actually something I wanted to dance to. Nero decided to open with 'New Life' and 'Doomsday', and that set the tone for the entire performance.
The set consisted of mostly their 2011 album Welcome Reality, which, if you've not heard it, I would describe as a nice lead-in to Dubstep if you're wary of the genre, but already listen to the likes of Justice or Danger. For the tracks with full lyrics ('My Eyes', 'Me and You', 'Promises'), their vocalist Alana Watson was called to the stage, taking the spotlight, while Daniel Stephens and Joseph Ray generally hid behind their equipment.
While there were some remixes worked in there (a dark and heavy version of 'Crush on You' being the most impressive), they were very subtle, you'd have to be very familiar with the album to pick up the variations. As someone who likes a bit of turntableism, I was hoping for some scratching and beat-juggling, and was a bit disappointed when that didn't happen, though that may be an unrealistic hope.
Thursday, 8 March 2012
Empirical - Elements of Truth
This review can be found at The Yorker, here.
©Empirical; Image Credit: Empirical
Jazz can be a hard genre to get into if you've not grown up with listening to it. Smooth Jazz and Big Band are already somewhat niche interests, but when you get to the experimental side of things, if you're not braced for it, its easy to find yourself turned off. That said, that doesn't mean that experimental jazz is without merit for those who have an understanding of the genre that begin and end at Miles Davis.
Empirical are a British jazz band with two previous albums, the eponymousEmpirical and Out 'n' In. They're big fans of improvisation to their music, andElements of Truth is an album that embraces the idea of hiding the groove in amongst discord. The first track, 'Say What You Mean, Mean What You Say' builds up suspense and a dramatic atmosphere through whisting. My personal experience with artists who jam on the vibraphone is centered around Roy Ayers. They're used here by Lewis Wright in a different, more chaotic way.
The tracks are continuous, so the band bleeds easily into 'Yin & Yang', which demonstrates a common factor among many jazz records - song length. These 9 minutes are not a patch on the 15 or 20-minute behemoths that exist; but they're a lot calmer and performed with more groove than the first track. It still has this brooding air to it; but it's not oppressive - quite the contrary - it reminds me strongly of Detective film Noir, as it may for anyone who's played L.A. Noire.
Skipping ahead a little, 'Cosmos (for Carl Sagan)' stands out as my favourite track, and not just because of the neat dedication. It's smooth and spacey, almost soundscape-like in between main verses.
'An Ambiguous State of Mind' also stands out as being the darkest track of the album. It has a real sense of tension to it, standing out in tone from the rest of the album, but not necessarily by being the loudest or busiest. It inspires an odd feeling; not everyone wants a moody vibe from their music, but it's a nice change from the Soulful Strut side of jazz.
Elements of Truth is definitely not for everyone. If you like your jams experimentation-free, or don't fancy yourself as someone who'd like to sit in a smoky bar with a single malt whisky, then you'll have a hard time loving what Empirical can offer you. But if you're willing to take a plunge, this may very well be your new music to study to, or soundtrack to any after-dark strolls.
Monday, 20 February 2012
Desert Living: Bombay Beach Review
This review can be found at The Yorker, here.
These tales are all set up for maximum heartstrings-pulling, but I could never find myself too invested. Then again, that may say more about my stony heart than the characterization of the cast. While Hollywood is full to the brim with tales of the upper-middle class and the wonderful lives they lead, Bombay is very refreshing in comparison. There are countless shots of destroyed and desiccated wildlife, giving some powerful if maybe too overt metaphors about the lives of our characters. It's countered by scenes of the Bombay Beach residents getting together for meals, work, and parties. Lots of parties.
Living in poverty is trying. So is living in a desert, and miles away from any major settlement. What was once advertised as a thriving tourist resort in the 50s is now a wasteland - and those who are left behind have to do their best to get by. Such is the premise of Bombay Beach.
Bombay Beach is shot as a documentary, except not quite. It has all the handy-cam shots and the interview voice-overs, and the cutaways to the landscape, but it's also peppered with odd sort-of musical scenes, and a lot of vague confusion.
The plot switches between three stories - the old and racist retiree Red, who's saving up enough to go to the nearby old folks' village and see long-lost acquaintances; CeeJay, a teenager working towards a sports scholarship, dealing with romance and prejudice along the way; and Benny, the youngest son of a neglectful family, plagued with behavioural problems and never really fitting in.
These tales are all set up for maximum heartstrings-pulling, but I could never find myself too invested. Then again, that may say more about my stony heart than the characterization of the cast. While Hollywood is full to the brim with tales of the upper-middle class and the wonderful lives they lead, Bombay is very refreshing in comparison. There are countless shots of destroyed and desiccated wildlife, giving some powerful if maybe too overt metaphors about the lives of our characters. It's countered by scenes of the Bombay Beach residents getting together for meals, work, and parties. Lots of parties.
Director Alma Har'el also works in music videos, and that's definitely reflected here. The music scenes are well-shot, paired with good music choices (though none of it in a genre I much care for), and while you would struggle to say that they helped the plot along at all, they meshed well with the sedate pacing of the rest of the film.
The film's ending is annoyingly abrupt. Of course, with the documentary style, it's clear that the lives of these people are ongoing, and aren't going to have an 'end' to an arc in the narrative sense over the course of the hour-and-a-quarter; they don't all fully resolve, which might prove frustrating for people who'll get really invested in these characters. Benny in particular is very interesting, and even without having my heart melt at the adorable childish antics of him and his friends - I wanted to see the fight against his bipolar disorder to see a happy conclusion. Or any conclusion at all.
Bombay Beach is an arthouse film through and through, which will delight those looking for a cinematic experience outside the Action/Horror/Romance trifecta - but it'll ring as vague and a little pretentious to others, and that sadly includes myself.
The Language of Hip-Hop: A Lot More Than 'Ass'
This article was done for the Phonograph, can be found here.
Okay, so we live in a world where Big Sean can release a song called “Ass”, where the lyrics consist mostly of just that word. Granted, if you’ve been paying attention to Top-40s hip-hop for the past couple of years you would have already experienced The Black Eyed Peas‘ “I’mma Be”, but that hasn’t saved me from the bemusement I feel regarding “Ass” being a song that actually exists.
For those who were on the opposing side of the Rock vs. Rap petty dichotomy during the 90s and early 2000s, the stupidity of “Ass” is something ‘expected’ for the world of Hip-Hop. At surface level (i.e. that awful club you and your friends go to, you know the one), Rap and Hip-Hop exclusively consist of self-aggrandizing and partying hard; designed to move your feet, but not move you.
Of course, that’s never been the whole story Hip-Hop as an initial concept was heavily focused in telling stories of day-to-day life and struggles; but very little of that sentiment seems to escape outside the bubble of long-established fans of the genre. It only takes a little digging to strike a vein of honest insight and clever topics packaged up in dope rhymes and sick beats.
Taking on the idea that a lot of old-school Hip-Hop had an aim to inform – it might not be too out there to think of some works as educational. And why not? Just because the information imparted is set to some 808s doesn’t mean that it’s not valid. I don’t see there being a University course entitled “Hip-Hop and Philosophical Theory” any time soon (though I would definitely take it if such a thing existed); but academic insight can become apparent in unlikely ways.
I’m presently doing a linguistics degree, my personal area of interest is Language and Identity. Consider for a moment, the concept of ‘Authenticity’. It’s where you (consciously or otherwise) affect your speech so something about you is more obvious to the people you’re speaking to. I for one, take pride in my Londoner accent. And upon listening to “Country Cousins” by Talib Kweli, he became a really good example for me to cite:
I walk and talk kinda fast and thought of as a New York kinda rhymerBut most New Yorkers got family in South and North CarolinaL.A. is ‘Little Alabama’They walk and they talk with a country grammarAnd you think everybody else sound countrySo they started callin’ ‘em ‘Bamas
It’s not every day that you’d expect someone to spit lyrics about sociolinguistics, but more than that, it’s something interesting and relevant.
Lupe Fiasco definitely has a corner marked out for sending a message, his second album, The Cool, was all about how a careless pursuit of a gangsta lifestyle, the titular Cool, was nothing but destructive. Not that you would know that from listening to the single that made it to the radio, “Superstar” struggled to pull that kind of sentiment.
Even with his most recent album, Lasers, the public saw Lupe at his self-confessed low-point – “The Show Goes On” was not the kind of story he wanted to tell. Instead, the cleverest track was buried away as a Bonus track – “I’m Beamin’”:
You see I hood a lot, and yeah I nerd someHood’s where the heart is, nerd’s where the words fromDon’t represent either, because I merged them
While I can’t relate to a self-hype song about fat stacks of cash, I can definitely feel where Lupe’s coming from when he says he’s never stopped being a nerd, and how that’s never held him back in anything. It’s a message that a younger me really could have done with. Maybe not in the same way that Tupac’s “Keep Ya Head Up” and its messages about respecting women (why wasn’t any of that taken on board?); but still a sentiment worth hearing.
What’s more, I definitely need to give credit to indie hip-hop; running parallel to the grimy rap battle scene that was rendered as oh-so-glamorous in 8 Mile (ahem), are the artists heading for the socio-political angle. Since, deep-down rapping was never too distant from Beat Poetry, entirely powered by heartfelt social commentary. Take, for example, Akala, and his track “Find No Enemy”
But I don’t even believe my own prayers like you,Chasing career going nowhere like you,Lost in a fog of my own insecurities I hold myself up as a image of purity,And I judge everybody else by the colour of their skin or the size of their wealthBut it’s not good for my health as the only one I ever really judge is my self
His flow goes everywhere, from social standings to self-reflection to what it means to be “urban”. He accepts and vocalises his flaws, and he really comes across as human and an equal. That it’s backed up with some deft lyricism and an arguably unusual choice of alternative rock instrumental style makes a track like this memorable; and the messages he imparts along with it.
The scope of socially-conscious and educated artists out there is vast, way more than I can reasonably describe here. So to give a starting point to those who want to find out more (and to hopefully appease the Hip-Hop fans whose favourite artists I’ve missed), give these a try:
Shad – Question Marks
Kenyan-born and living in Canada, Shad’s début album When This is Over is packed full of personal insight. “Question Marks” stands out as a favourite, a downtempo piece discussing the nature of God from a Christian perspective, and how the Bible is interpreted. It’s not necessarily an opinion I can agree with, but he makes a fair case.
Del tha Funkee Homosapien – Del’s Nightmare
Ever heard “Clint Eastwood” by the Gorillaz? Many people heard about Del that way, though he was also part of the rap group Heiroglyphics, and did a concept album as Deltron 3030 about cyberpunk cities (a must-listen for any Sci-Fi fan). His 1998 album,Future Development has “Del’s Nightmare” discussing 1850s slavery, and then making a sarcastic comparison to the music industry. Cheeky, but thought-provoking.
Khaled M - Can’t Take Our Freedom
Previously interviewed on The Phonograph, Khaled M is a Libyan-born rapper, and an activist in Libyan politics, using his music to reach out to youths, and those who otherwise wouldn’t know the problems going on. His collaboration with Lowkey, “Can’t Take Our Freedom” is punchy and motivational, and made a significant contribution to the revolution.
Pete Philly & Perquisite – Hope
This duo from Amsterdam brought a lot of Jazz and Soul elements into their Hip-Hop beats; Perquisite is an accomplished cellist and regularly used entire string sets in his work. In the track “Hope” from the album Mindstate they team up with Talib Kweli to discuss that, although politics and businesses can be corrupt or greedy, the public still has the ability and the spirit to not just take things as given and work towards better.
Hip-Hop as a genre isn’t confined to being disposable party anthems, nor does it only exist as a soapbox for rappers. There are definitely days where I will put on Notorious B.I.G’s“One More Chance” and giggle like a schoolboy at how he has a 4-minute song entirely about his penis. But the more thought-provoking songs and artists out there could do with more time in the mainstream spotlight, so we can all have more social analysis, and less “Ass”.
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