contemporary music

Xenogensesis II: Intergalactic Beings (4/30/2010)

admin — Tue, 22 Jun 2010 00:02:00 +0000

Chicago, Illinois

I purchased a copy of Octavia Butler’s Bloodchild at a secondhand bookstore and let it rest on my shelf for years as next-to-read. Fortunately, it was in my bag when I was shuttled from the ER to a hospital for a week-long stay: I possessed a means of transport away from a battered attempt at sterility and the monotony of crisis to an intense, sparse yet beautifully rendered world. I was reading Octavia Butler. Therefore, when Nicole Mitchell’s jazz composition Xenogenesis II: Intergalactic Beings, a tribute to Octavia Butler, appeared on the program notice for Chicago’s Museum of Contemporary Art, I jumped at the chance to see it.

Mitchell and the Black Earth Ensemble presented this nine-part composition, the second part of a three-part contemplation of the unexpected result of nuclear conflagration, on a barren stage without sets or elaborate effects. As Mitchell is a noted visionary, it is not surprising that she chose to produce work inspired by the speculative author, nor is it surprising that the aural reverberations transported me just as much as Butler’s description of altered societies and beings. What did make me pause was the complete engagement that evolved between an almost full theater and the extremely innovative and almost alien sounds alternately squeaking, screaming, swelling, and rolling from the stage.

The composer and musicians came on to the stage half-draped in sheets of papery, crumpled chiffon over black clothing. White robes are conventionally associated with angels, but the intergalactic beings of the title have a more ominous mission: they seek to save the human species through abducting subjects for seduction and interbreeding. The themes of conquest and exploitation clearly mirror aspects of American history. However, these topics are presented as evocative echoes, not didactic hammer falls. The nine-movement piece is subtly wrought and ultimately powerful, starting with the stealing of our species and ending with inescapable metamorphosis. Xenogenesis manifests a haunting reminder of Octavia Butler’s verse: “All that you touch/You Change./ All that you Change/Changes you./ The only lasting truth/ is Change./ God/is Change.”

Written by: Erika Mikkalo, June 21st 2010

The Best of Ally McBeal

admin — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 00:58:00 +0000

By Vonda Shepard

Sony Legacy

"I’ve been searchin’ my soul tonight... I know there’s so much more to life..." If you’re starting to hum the theme tune to a certain late-nineties television show about the life of a diminutive lawyer, you’ll understand that this album’s opening track is as much a time capsule as it is a pop song. Everything there was to love (and love to hate) about Ally McBeal is summed up as singer and pianist Vonda Shepard works her way through "Searchin’ My Soul."

Fans will doubtless remember Shepard’s regular appearances at Ally’s local piano bar. As the characters gathered for a post-work tipple, Shepard would use her uncanny ability to sum up their emotional landscape through song.

Some might also remember that, while sometimes hailed as a great leap forward for women on television, Ally McBeal wasn’t completely trouble-free from a feminist perspective (after all, Ally was the character that prompted Time magazine to ask whether feminism might in fact be dead back in 1998).

For those in need of a quick reminder: Ally’s professional concerns were consistently overshadowed by near-crippling neuroticism, flashes of baby mania and a desire for romantic love that often eclipsed the details of whatever case she happened to be working on that episode. Her struggles arguably reflected those of many women looking for success and fulfillment in a male-dominated environment, but the show’s unwillingness to challenge stereotypical representations of women in the workplace was also clear from the start.

The Best of Ally McBeal probably won’t be hailed as a great leap forward for women in music, but it’s safe to say that isn’t its intention. Like Ally, it aims to please and entertain without challenging its audience, and it succeeds. Many listeners will enjoy the balance of light and shade in its track listing, the way each composition builds to a satisfying chorus, and the catchiness of the songs that will have them singing along before they really know the words.

There will doubtless be others listeners, looking for murkier lyrical depths and tougher thematic challenges, who will be lost by the end of track two. Lines like “snow is cold, rain is wet” and repeated instances of rhyming the word “baby” with “maybe” will soon sort the former from the latter.

There’s certainly no faulting Shepard musically. Her vocals are rich and the piano backs her up reliably. At the same time, there’s a slight sense of detachment that comes across on a few tracks. Covers "You Belong to Me" and "Hooked on a Feeling" somehow fall short on impact, and in light of Shepard’s musical prowess it’s tempting to point to the blinding shine of the production as a possible explanation.

All that said, what’s most satisfying about this retrospective collection is how timeless these songs actually are (bar "Searchin’ My Soul," which never really stood a chance after the first episode of Ally went to air). Stand-outs are the subdued yet soulful "The Wildest Times of the World," "Maryland," and "Baby, Don’t You Break My Heart Slow" along with rousing versions of "It’s in His Kiss" and "Tell Him"—toe tapping non-negotiable.

So if you think there’s a “best of” to be found in Ally’s world, this album delivers. All that’s missing is the scene where the snowflakes fall on the woman walking dreamily through the city streets after a hard day’s litigation.

Written by: Alice Allan, March 6th 2010

Yakiimo

admin — Wed, 10 Feb 2010 09:02:00 +0000

By Simone White

Honesty Jons Records

Sitting down with my notebook for a first listen, I adamantly tried not to get caught up in descriptions with romanticized cliché references to Cézanne paintings, sleepy villages, artsy cafes, or train rides home. Alas, I set myself up for inevitable failure listening to Simone White’s Yakiimo album riding a train northbound for the holidays on a clear, winter New England morning. Snow had just fallen; I was ending the most significant semester I had had at university; the rhythm of the album tread effortlessly with the speed of the train. It was nauseatingly perfect, and all I could do was laugh and submit to the indulgence of the cliché moment. So, I apologize.

As soon as I pressed play on the first track, “Bunny in a Bunny Suit,” as we pulled out of the Providence station, I felt as though it was a soundtrack for my journey home, physically and metaphorically. The song is fittingly about someone who has realized that she has lost herself after years of trying to change for others. For me, I was returning home, finally “pretending to be myself again.”

Regarding the sound, do not mistake the pretty vocals and poetic lyrics of the album for being shallow. It is not necessarily edgy, but definitely eccentric as the artist’s darkness subtly emerges. The tone of the album may be honest, pure, slightly melancholy, and sweet, but definitely not fragile or playful in a passive way. Its vulnerability is deceiving.

Born into a family of extraordinary creativity, with her folksinger mother, sculptor father, and burlesque-dancer grandmother, White taught herself to play the guitar and writes most of the songs on the album. The album has 12 short tracks, all under four minutes long, with acoustic instrumentation, simple percussion, anecdotes, and the repetitive driving rhythm of a personal journey. Tracks “Victoria Anne,” written about the playful memories of a childhood friend, and “Baby Lie Down With Me,” influenced by reading Carson McCullers, bring a happy, yet at times, haunting element which is further complemented by the even darker lyrics of “A Girl You Never Met,” about someone too tired to keep on living, and “Without A Sound,” which gives a detailed description of the final moments of a failed relationship.

The first two tracks, including the one mentioned above and “Candy Bar Killer,” are covers of original songs written by friends Frank Bango and Richy Vesecky, which have slightly edgier lyrics focusing more on the awkward experiences and pains of growing up. The album continues with songs about love, despair and longing: longing for an ex-lover in “Your Stop,” a school crush in “Olivia.”

“Yakiimo,” the title of the album, refers to the Yakiimo men she heard singing their “haunting songs” while selling the stone roasted mountain sweet potato, encapsulating the “emotion and subtly” she wanted to capture in her album. Inspired by a children’s counting book, “Train Song” adds a lightness to the album. The last two tracks diverge slightly from the style of the previous tracks, particularly with a more country sounding “Let the Cold Wind Blow.” White described in an interview childhood memories of her grandma singing “St Louis Blues,” the last track of the album, in a “deep throaty voice.”

White has had international success since her first album, I Am the Man, playing on stages across the globe and having her track “The Beep Beep Song” featured in an Audi car commercial. Sounding like a female Nick Drake, she also has a Norah Jones aspect to her; however, Simone White is unlike anything else in pop, rock, and folk genres. Her recently released second album is definitely worth a listen.

Written by: Abigail Chance, February 10th 2010

The Gospel of Hip Hop: The First Instrument

admin — Thu, 21 Jan 2010 01:00:00 +0000

By KRS-ONE

powerHouse Books

Just as jazz is a uniquely American phenomenon whose sentiment and message resonate with people the world round, so is hip-hop. Hip-hop began as a means by which to illustrate the experiences of people living their daily lives in the ‘hoods of New York. Although the originators of hip-hop, such as the Sugar Hill Gang were instrumental in shedding light on teen pregnancy, drug addiction, and violence it wasn’t until the era of KRS-One that hip-hop evolved to the status of Cultural Revolution. KRS-One, best known as Teacha, brought hip-hop to the mainstream. Although in his early days his work with Boogie Down Productions (BDP) was more violent in nature, after the tragic loss of his BDP partner, DJ Scott LaRock, his work evolved into a peaceable lyrical style that called the masses to confront social ills head on. With his politically savvy, multicultural take on what he was witnessing in his environs he touched upon that longing within us all to be free. Hip-hop is, at its core, about freedom.

Yet, freedom is not free and it is the struggle that is highlighted in The Gospel of Hip Hop. True to its name, the Gospel of hip-hop provides the reader with a good word about the value garnered only by overcoming obstacles. Hip-hop, although invented in America, has become an internationally appreciated musical form because it is more than just music. In this tome KRS-One provides the reader with plenty of teaching on peace and love which breaks down barriers, removes prejudice, and reconciles injustice.

For example, in the opening section, of this book the Teacha states: "But as for us, as for our group commonly known in the World as 'Hip Hop,' this gospel acknowledges and celebrates the Love that has saved OUR people from self destruction. It is time to repent and grow up! Rapping about crime and murder may sound good amongst those who have never committed such acts, but for those of us who are REAL IN THE FIELD, we send this message to our young people—YOU DON’T REALLY WANT IT!"

And on the following page: "For with this first instrument we remember GOD and how we were rescued by unseen forces more powerful than any government on Earth. For when all seemed hopeless and oppression seemed permanent; a caring, protective, nurturing creative force independent of all the World’s political, business, educational and religious institutions, swept through our hearts and homes and we were rescued from sickness, hatred, ignorance and poverty with a behavior that we eventually began to call 'Hip Hop.' And we must NEVER forget this.”

Hip-hop is life, hip-hop is freedom, hip-hop is revolution. KRS-One has brought to light the cure for what ails us all: heart sickness, the residual effect of the subjugation of one group of people by another group of people. Whether those groups are divided by gender, race, religion, socio-economic status, age, or educational attainment they are all expressions of hatred and ignorance. The only solution for which is love. As Al Green so eloquently stated “Love is the message and the message is love”.

Written by: Susan G. Reyes Vasquez, January 20th 2010

A Chopping Block

admin — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 17:01:00 +0000

By Pree

Kora Records

The death of Jim Henson was probably one of the single most traumatic events of my childhood. By that time, I was old enough to realize that Kermit was created by Jim Henson, but still young enough to have a certain amount of love for Sesame Street. (Okay, I was ten, which is a bit old for Big Bird, but I was a late bloomer.)

You are probably asking yourself a variety of questions at this point. One of them is probably: “Why the hell are you bringing up this utterly horrible nightmare from your childhood when I was expecting to read a review of Pree’s album A Chopping Block? Do you also like slapping kittens when watching Oprah?” Really, though, stick with me here.

I still watch (and love) all things Jim Henson. But no matter how silly or sweet the show is, I still get this feeling of sadness. I can’t watch Gonzo or his girlfriend Camilla without thinking about Jim Henson. I can’t look at my Kermit doll (yes, I still have a Kermit doll) without wiping a little tear from the corner of my eye. It’s kind of the same feeling with musicians like Joanna Newsom and Regina Spektor—and also bands like Pree.

Their music is really, honestly great, heartfelt, and sort of cute in a quirky way, but there’s something deeper to all of their songs—something that makes you feel a little bit like you are watching a butterfly dying in a jar. Pree talks an awful lot about things like ghosts, and graveyards, and worrying too darn much. Pree has real talent and a creative and original ear behind their songs. While they do sound quite a bit like Newsom or Spektor, they also manage to keep an original voice.

There is absolutely no question that their songs sound like their songs—not like someone else’s. Pree mixes piano, guitar, violin, glockenspiel, melodica, and drums together in a way that is modern, while whispering sweet nothings from folk music of the past. They also manage to keep that sing-songy cuteness, while making you think of ghosts, and graveyards, and worrying too darn much. Like Kermit the Frog, or Big Bird, or Gonzo the Great, it is comforting while being really, incredibly sad at the same time—like hugging the afghan that your dead grandma knitted. Trust me, their music is worth the time, and the Kleenex.

Written by: Emily S. Dunster, June 5th 2009

From the Heart

admin — Wed, 20 May 2009 17:36:00 +0000

By Babyface

Sony

There are several good songs on From the Heart, but by the end of the album, I was sick of the slow, languorous ballads that Babyface does so well. There’s nothing wrong with most of the songs; they’re just bland, and the delivery becomes monotonous after sixteen tracks. Such is the peril of putting together a compilation of a particular type of song: we lose the variety that makes an album great.

That said, Babyface’s smooth, soulful delivery helps lift mediocre material to the next level, and From the Heart has several standout tracks. “Lady, Lady,” with its undeniable catchy refrain, is among my favorites. Retaining the soft sound Babyface is known for, there’s more emotion and a faster pace in his vocal delivery. A syncopated drum track is also added to get your feet tapping.

“For the Cool in You” is another funky track, with a more prominent rhythm section and polished but slightly sped-up vocals. The saxophone also gives a bit of flavor. The song is original lyrically: Babyface praises his lover for being even-keeled and not giving up easily in the face of difficulties. “This Is For the Lover in You,” a duet with LL Cool J, has a more hip-hop vibe than the rest of the album. LL Cool J raps between Babyface’s sung verses, and Jody Watley provides supporting vocals. Other stars lending a hand are Mariah Carey and Kenny G, who make an appearance on “Every Time I Close My Eyes.”

It’s easy to see why “When Can I See You” was a top-ten hit; the acoustic guitar-dominated, plaintive tune is so different from the rest of Babyface’s oeuvre. The poetic and simple lyrics (“When can my Sunday begin? When can my heart beat again?”) are memorable. “Whip Appeal,” another hit, is an appealing tune on which Babyface lets loose vocally.

While technically the slow ballads are well-done, too often the music and sentiment are tepid, and the lyrics trite. On “I Said I Love You” Babyface croons, “I promise you I will be true,” and on “A Bit Old Fashioned” he proclaims, “I believe a woman is the most precious thing on earth.” My personal animus was “Lovers,” which opens with the precoital dialogue of a man and a woman about to have sex for the first time, which I found disconcerting and condescending. The music itself has little personality, and the patronizing lyrics about how the man will be gentle made me want to gag.

My main complaint is that the material is too polished. Keeping a few of the rough edges would have added diversity and interest to his romantic work. There are enough good songs—and several great ones—to make the album a worthwhile overview of Babyface's love songs.

Written by: Karen Duda, May 20th 2009

From the Heart

admin — Sat, 02 May 2009 22:59:00 +0000

By The Isley Brothers

Legacy Recordings

The Isley Brothers have been making fantastic and varied music since the 1950s, or as their DefJam website says, creating “Baby Makin’ Music.” Personally, I would prefer listening to From The Heart with a glass of wine while chopping vegetables, making dinner rather than babies. But that’s just me.

Considering the pervasive presence of The Isley Brothers in American music, especially funk, rock and roll, and R&B, it would be difficult to not recognize the rhythm and high melodic voice of the Isleys. From The Heart is mellow, a far cry from “Shout” or “Fight the Power,” but more like “This Old Heart of Mine.”

Don’t slip this disc into the player expecting the rock and roll of the sixties, or the funk of the eighties. One might categorize it as adult contemporary. These reissued songs are all love songs, hence the title From The Heart (which seems to be a frequently used album title in the music industry, from Billie Holiday to Dolly Parton).

Several of the songs on this album are truly fun. I like “Choosey Lover,” and the cover of Bob Dylan’s “Lay Lady Lay” is beautiful. Some of the songs’ lyrics are reminiscent of Teddy Pendergrass and Marvin Gay, but don’t quite work, such as in “Hello, It’s Me.” And if you’re looking for feminist lyrics, this isn’t the place.

The Isley Brothers are so important to American music, one can’t completely dismiss anything they do. These men have influenced so many contemporary artists, as well as musical genres overall. “Lay Lady Lady” might just make this album worth your while, and will remind you of the place The Isley Brothers have in American culture. And not just as "baby makin' music."

Written by: Claire Burrows, May 2nd 2009