Thursday, May 31, 2007

Ravel Quartet

String Quartet in F
Maurice Ravel, 1904
peformed by the Daedalus String Quartet on "Sibelius, Stravinsky, Ravel"

So this is the first time I've reviewed something on this blog that's been released very recently, but I had to make an exception for this marvellous disc. The Daedalus String Quartet are just phenomenal - I've heard them in concert several times, and often wondered how their energetic, deeply studied, passionate, dramatic playing would come across on disc. Well now I know - and it's a wonderful transition for them into the world of recordings.

I've said here before that I prefer live performances to recordings for a thousand reasons, but it's great to hear a disc like this one, in which (1) the personality of the group really comes out, (2) the pieces of music are represented with scintillating performances that you want to listen to over and over, and (3) the recording serves as a "calling card" to get you out to the next live show. I don't think there are many chamber groups that can rival this one, and that's not praise I dish out lightly. So while listening to this CD doesn't bring me to the verge of tears (I'm not ashamed to admit more than one concert of theirs has done just that), there's no doubt that this is playing at the highest level, interpreting some great music.

I hadn't heard the Sibelius quartet before this, and it's a beautiful piece that I want to hear more of. The Stravinsky "Three Pieces" is a classic, and is stunningly played. But I really want to talk about the Ravel quartet here.

Quite simply, this is one of my favorite string quartets ever. I dream of writing music like this. Deep, gorgeous, playful, balancing the raw and the calculated. This is music that sweeps you along, and pauses to reflect at just the right moments, music that has a humanity that is so personal as to be near-harrowing, and a rhetorical brilliance that serves to show it off.

And this performance. Well I don't even know how if I can find words, when it comes down to it (it's like dancing about architecture, after all). Listening to this recording showed me things about the music that I never knew were there. And not just little things, but tremendous things that make the whole quartet mean something different to me than it ever did. They play with a propulsion and grace that floors me, and the fluid, ever-shifting relationships among the players is part of what's genius here. There are these big overarching connections among the movements that come across so clearly (yet not emphasized in an "obvious" way). I think that this piece is a perfect match for the ensemble, frankly. I can't think of it being done better.

Yes I am waxing rhapsodic, but this deserves it. Give a listen.

Friday, May 25, 2007

J-pop don't stop

Family Dancing
Coaltar, 1996

This album is just really fun, and part of the fun is that it's pretty hard to describe. Like a lot of my favorite Japanese bands, these kids (and they definitely act like kids) mix and match styles to their hearts' content, forging cross-genre connections and making no attempt to be true to any perceived "tradition." After all, we're talking about top-40 pop music here, not indiginous folk cultures, right?

I guess a good hip-alt-weekly description of the band's sound might be "what if Pennywise had a horn section?" but that really doesn't do it justice. The two lead vocalists play trumpet and sax, so they'll add some interesting flourishes to what's essentially uptempo punk.

Or is it? The band will break down into disco-hued funk now and then as well (often showing off the bassist's chops), or throw in a kazoo solo, or sing an unadulterated U2-style anthemic chorus that will dissolve back into choppy, spitty, punk exasperation again. As I said above, it really has the flavor of kids who don't know any better just messing around, playing the stuff they like to play. The youthful energy is really infectious.

And I'd be remiss if I didn't point out the transcendent little pop track on the album, called "Mr. Sunshine." I don't think I could ever get enough of this song - one of the few tunes I can think of that repeats the chorus just the correct number of times, not too many nor too few. This song is quite clearly what mid-90s Shibuya-denizens thought the Summer of Love sounded like, and the fact that it's a lens trained on an imaginary musical past doesn't make it any less groovy. A little slightly-out-of-tune acousting guitar strumming, a tight bongo beat, a simpering falsetto teenager belting out "hey hey hey hey, Mister Sunshiiiine! hey hey hey hey, Mister Freeeedom!" I'm not sure phony nostalgia gets any better than that, unless it's when the drums and bass kick in and the slightly-flat back-up vocals begin to wail "I'm free." You really want to believe in this alternative universe, and that's the magic of this song.

No itunes link for this one, I'm afraid, and good luck finding it anywhere. If anyone knows of a website or some other locus of information, hope you'll let me know (and as a side note, this is not the same group as another Japanese band called "Coaltar of the Deepers," though with a name like that I'm quite interested in listening to them as well!)

Friday, May 11, 2007

Maiden Voyage

Maiden Voyage
Herbie Hancock, 1965

One of the nicer things about this project of listening to all my records is that I get to do some deep listening to music that I know quite well already. That's certainly the case with this classic album, which I listened to incessantly about 20 years ago, to the point of having it almost memorized note for note. I tried to listen with a "blank slate" mentality as much as possible, and found it very rewarding.

This is just a lovely album in a thousand ways. Sort of a "concept album," but in the loosest way, the titles of the five cuts all related to a sea voyage. There is amazing playing from everyone throughout (and what a line-up it is, too), but this is Herbie's album and he is definitely the most sublime, whether soloing or ensemble playing or comping. Just the different harmonizations that he gives "Little One" each time the main tune comes back are brilliant.

Herbie Hancock shows himself to be a really great composer here. People talk alot about the "sustained chords" in the music on this album, and it's true that they contribute a lot to the mood, but there's so much more going on as well. For one thing, the counterpoint is so smartly and beautifully worked out - obviously this was something which was talked about among the players too, because the rhythmic relationships unravel and restitch effortlessly during solos.

There are masterful shifts of mood in "Eye of the Hurricane" and "Survival of the Fittest," again showing what makes jazz composition different from what we normally think of as a classical composition process. It's not just writing a head and playing through the changes - there's a certain amount of control over just how the group improvises together as well. This isn't so easy to put into words or notate on paper, but when you listen for it, it's definitely there.

There are dozens of beautiful moments scattered throughout the album ... the melting of Herbie's solo into Tony Williams' on "Survival of the Fittest," the opening flourish of George Coleman's solo on "Maiden Voyage," and that rock-solid rhythm-section groove on "Dolphin Dance," just for starters. Gems all the way through.

itunes link:
Herbie Hancock - Maiden Voyage