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.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
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!)
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.
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:
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Half and Half
Soul Disguise
Cesar Rosas, 1999
I'm not sure exactlywhy I picked this album to review instead of one of the many Los Lobos records I have. For one thing, I suppose it gives me the opportunity to talk about some of my favorite kinds of music-group dynamics: the tense duality. You see, Los Lobos derive quite a bit of their greatness from the balancing of opposites, or so it seems to me. I'm oversimplifying to a very large degree here, but in the band, David Hidalgo (and to a lesser extent Louis Perez) represents restrained pristine beauty and devotion to folk tradition, while Cesar Rosas is wearing dark shades and rocking out, loud and dirty. There are plenty of other examples of dualities like this in popular music, another recent example being the fiercely intellectual Chuck D and the trickster-clown Flava Flav.
In any case, with that in mind, I picked this disc up from a Tower Records in Greenwich Village, not sure exactly what to expect when Rosas was let out on his own. I mildly enjoyed the Hidalgo/Perez outings, but this record I really dig. Rosas shows a broad spectrum of stylistic interests, and everything is deep, like he's digging down to claw at the roots of things while still having a party.
There's a very "big" sound to the production, even on the tunes where the instrumentation is stripped down and mostly acoustic. It's not exactly slick-sounding, but certainly very professional. That's the sort of thing that doesn't usually stand out on an album for me, save for a few, this being one of them.
I've got some favorites in the set, of course. The Ike Turner tune "You've Got to Lose" is a slamming blues tricked out as a vehicle for some blazing guitar licks. "Better Way" is an affecting simple mid-tempo ballad delivered in heartfelt gravel baritone, made extra-special by an obbligato on a Veracruzano harp. "Adios Mi Vida"is pure corrido, with a guest appearance by the inimitable Flaco Jimenez. And Rosas pays homage to Stax/Volt soul with a sly 6/8 churner he calls "E. Los Ballad #13."
Really wonderful tunes here, played with maturity, zeal, and great love for the music (do you get the impression sometimes, especially from big pop stars, that they aren't even really enjoying what they are doing and just have their eyes on the afterparty?). In listening to it all through carefully, I noticed that really everything is connected to the blues spirit in some way or other, so it's as if he took his "half" of the Los Lobos duality and nurtured it till it could stand on its own. Really enjoyable.
Cesar Rosas, 1999
I'm not sure exactlywhy I picked this album to review instead of one of the many Los Lobos records I have. For one thing, I suppose it gives me the opportunity to talk about some of my favorite kinds of music-group dynamics: the tense duality. You see, Los Lobos derive quite a bit of their greatness from the balancing of opposites, or so it seems to me. I'm oversimplifying to a very large degree here, but in the band, David Hidalgo (and to a lesser extent Louis Perez) represents restrained pristine beauty and devotion to folk tradition, while Cesar Rosas is wearing dark shades and rocking out, loud and dirty. There are plenty of other examples of dualities like this in popular music, another recent example being the fiercely intellectual Chuck D and the trickster-clown Flava Flav.
In any case, with that in mind, I picked this disc up from a Tower Records in Greenwich Village, not sure exactly what to expect when Rosas was let out on his own. I mildly enjoyed the Hidalgo/Perez outings, but this record I really dig. Rosas shows a broad spectrum of stylistic interests, and everything is deep, like he's digging down to claw at the roots of things while still having a party.
There's a very "big" sound to the production, even on the tunes where the instrumentation is stripped down and mostly acoustic. It's not exactly slick-sounding, but certainly very professional. That's the sort of thing that doesn't usually stand out on an album for me, save for a few, this being one of them.
I've got some favorites in the set, of course. The Ike Turner tune "You've Got to Lose" is a slamming blues tricked out as a vehicle for some blazing guitar licks. "Better Way" is an affecting simple mid-tempo ballad delivered in heartfelt gravel baritone, made extra-special by an obbligato on a Veracruzano harp. "Adios Mi Vida"is pure corrido, with a guest appearance by the inimitable Flaco Jimenez. And Rosas pays homage to Stax/Volt soul with a sly 6/8 churner he calls "E. Los Ballad #13."
Really wonderful tunes here, played with maturity, zeal, and great love for the music (do you get the impression sometimes, especially from big pop stars, that they aren't even really enjoying what they are doing and just have their eyes on the afterparty?). In listening to it all through carefully, I noticed that really everything is connected to the blues spirit in some way or other, so it's as if he took his "half" of the Los Lobos duality and nurtured it till it could stand on its own. Really enjoyable.
itunes link:
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Just one of over a hundred albums
Royal T
Tito Puente, 1993
Ah Tito Puente ... where to even start? The man gave James Brown a run for his money as "hardest working man in show business," and the number of albums he recorded is the stuff of legend (I'm sure there's an exact count somewhere online, but that's one thing I'd rather keep a mystery). On two different occasions, I was lucky enough to hear him and his band perform live - even got splashed with some of his sweat, a.k.a. "agua de Puente," while dancing.
This album was the first of his that I bought, and probably for sentimental reasons it's still my favorite to listen to. This was the one I listened to over and over until I figured out and internalized the tumbao rhythm of the bass, something that has fascinated me for a long time. I dissected several of the arrangements, and learned so much from them.
The album starts off with a kick-ass screaming-fast version of "Donna Lee," the lead melody carried by a piccolo, and it just smokes from beginning to end. The arrangement of Mingus' "Moanin'" is a favorite of mine too - starts off with a baritone sax line that's begging to be sampled into a hip hop track. I knew the Mingus version of this tune fairly well before I ever heard this one, but the Puente version is definitely the one that's taken over my aural imagination now. The album is really all gems, with graet soloing and ensemble work. Another stand-out for me is "Mambo Gallego," which fuses flamenco harmonies and melodic ideas with the Afro-cuban rhythmic drive. I used to use that one to teach music students to take rhythmic dictation.
Anyway, it's just a blast, stem to stern. If you like Latin Jazz, it's an excellent one to have.
Tito Puente, 1993
Ah Tito Puente ... where to even start? The man gave James Brown a run for his money as "hardest working man in show business," and the number of albums he recorded is the stuff of legend (I'm sure there's an exact count somewhere online, but that's one thing I'd rather keep a mystery). On two different occasions, I was lucky enough to hear him and his band perform live - even got splashed with some of his sweat, a.k.a. "agua de Puente," while dancing.
This album was the first of his that I bought, and probably for sentimental reasons it's still my favorite to listen to. This was the one I listened to over and over until I figured out and internalized the tumbao rhythm of the bass, something that has fascinated me for a long time. I dissected several of the arrangements, and learned so much from them.
The album starts off with a kick-ass screaming-fast version of "Donna Lee," the lead melody carried by a piccolo, and it just smokes from beginning to end. The arrangement of Mingus' "Moanin'" is a favorite of mine too - starts off with a baritone sax line that's begging to be sampled into a hip hop track. I knew the Mingus version of this tune fairly well before I ever heard this one, but the Puente version is definitely the one that's taken over my aural imagination now. The album is really all gems, with graet soloing and ensemble work. Another stand-out for me is "Mambo Gallego," which fuses flamenco harmonies and melodic ideas with the Afro-cuban rhythmic drive. I used to use that one to teach music students to take rhythmic dictation.
Anyway, it's just a blast, stem to stern. If you like Latin Jazz, it's an excellent one to have.
itunes doesn't have it, but they have this nice greatest hits:
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Tehillim
Tehillim
Steve Reich, 1981
So I've described this piece as "stunning" before, and really there's no better term. I really am just stunned by its beauty and its rhetorical power every time I listen to it.
This is a piece of music for a large chamber ensemble and small chorus of amplified singers. My first encounter with it was at a student concert, where there was the ensemble had some trouble with the score, but its wonderfulness still shined through.I bought the CD soon after, and it quickly became a favorite.
I can't get into everything that makes it so great, but I can review a few of the aspects that stand out for me. Certainly the rhythmic structures really draw me in ... all these overlapping tiny cells, most of them derived from the rhythms of the text, drawing focus down on the motion of each pulsing eighth note, and at the same time opening up larger vistas - timespans that mimic on a larger scale what's going on at the microscopic level. It's one of those pieces of music that lets you experience multiple timescales unfolding at once, which is at once invigorating and meditative.
There's the counterpoint, too, which is just gorgeous in places. Strict vocal canons skitter and swerve as the winds and strings hold long sustained tones. And some of the melodic contours have that brilliant mathematical gorgeousness that's such a rare treat in contemporary composers' work.
There are quite a few stand-out moments for me, one of them being the change end of part 2 and the opening of part 3. That change in tempo and pitch and intrumentation just is so right. I could write a whole essay on just that change (I'm sure you'd all just adore reading that). And there's the ending, which is laserbeam tight to the point of being shrill, but at the same time is precisely what is needed there. The word "alleluia" is sung over and over (did I mention that these are settings of psalms in Hebrew?), in different melodic shapes, finally resolving to a relentlessly repeated tone. Great stuff.
Besides, you gotta love any music that features the tambourine in a heroic starring role in the ensemble.
Steve Reich, 1981
So I've described this piece as "stunning" before, and really there's no better term. I really am just stunned by its beauty and its rhetorical power every time I listen to it.
This is a piece of music for a large chamber ensemble and small chorus of amplified singers. My first encounter with it was at a student concert, where there was the ensemble had some trouble with the score, but its wonderfulness still shined through.I bought the CD soon after, and it quickly became a favorite.
I can't get into everything that makes it so great, but I can review a few of the aspects that stand out for me. Certainly the rhythmic structures really draw me in ... all these overlapping tiny cells, most of them derived from the rhythms of the text, drawing focus down on the motion of each pulsing eighth note, and at the same time opening up larger vistas - timespans that mimic on a larger scale what's going on at the microscopic level. It's one of those pieces of music that lets you experience multiple timescales unfolding at once, which is at once invigorating and meditative.
There's the counterpoint, too, which is just gorgeous in places. Strict vocal canons skitter and swerve as the winds and strings hold long sustained tones. And some of the melodic contours have that brilliant mathematical gorgeousness that's such a rare treat in contemporary composers' work.
There are quite a few stand-out moments for me, one of them being the change end of part 2 and the opening of part 3. That change in tempo and pitch and intrumentation just is so right. I could write a whole essay on just that change (I'm sure you'd all just adore reading that). And there's the ending, which is laserbeam tight to the point of being shrill, but at the same time is precisely what is needed there. The word "alleluia" is sung over and over (did I mention that these are settings of psalms in Hebrew?), in different melodic shapes, finally resolving to a relentlessly repeated tone. Great stuff.
Besides, you gotta love any music that features the tambourine in a heroic starring role in the ensemble.
itunes link:
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
The Miracle that is Zoe Ellis
Full Cleveland
Cleveland Lounge, 1996
So while I'm technically talking about this one album by the band Cleveland Lounge, I'm really talking about the sublime singer Zoe Ellis. I've been listening to her sing all my adult life (and, as I believe I'm mentioned before on here, I'm kinda old), and she's never been anything less than a pure unalloyed wonder. Her tone is raw silk dragging over your forearm, her delivery full of passion and depth, her singing style just always right - somehow more divine by being so rooted to the earth.
I never got to see her perform with this band Cleveland Lounge - apparently they weren't together all that long. I have heard her perform a couple of the songs in other settings, though, and the album does a very nice job of featuring her voice. There's a certain sameness to a few of the tunes; they have that "quiet storm" radio-ready feel. Great musicianship, well thought-out arrangements, just nothing too raw or exposed here. "Drowning" (the only song available now, as a single on itunes) is the signature song, full of all the operatic grace and emotional realness I associate with Zoe Ellis - really nice vocal counterpoint at the end too. "Mood Swing," another favorite, has a stripped-down minimalist arrangement, and her voice is hushed, warm, and sort of clipped in places - perfect evocation of the lyrics, which are about the ease of slipping from love to obsession. "Someday" has a more upbeat, hopeful sound (almost, but not quite, ruined by the lame keyboard stabs on the verses), with the beautiful ascending lines you don't find often in pop music. And "Need to Know" is the closest to purely rocking out that can be found on this album.
Really amazing stuff. If you live in the Bay Area, you simply must listen to this singer live at every opportunity. If you don't, and you can get your hands on this album, at least you'll get a taste.
Cleveland Lounge, 1996
So while I'm technically talking about this one album by the band Cleveland Lounge, I'm really talking about the sublime singer Zoe Ellis. I've been listening to her sing all my adult life (and, as I believe I'm mentioned before on here, I'm kinda old), and she's never been anything less than a pure unalloyed wonder. Her tone is raw silk dragging over your forearm, her delivery full of passion and depth, her singing style just always right - somehow more divine by being so rooted to the earth.
I never got to see her perform with this band Cleveland Lounge - apparently they weren't together all that long. I have heard her perform a couple of the songs in other settings, though, and the album does a very nice job of featuring her voice. There's a certain sameness to a few of the tunes; they have that "quiet storm" radio-ready feel. Great musicianship, well thought-out arrangements, just nothing too raw or exposed here. "Drowning" (the only song available now, as a single on itunes) is the signature song, full of all the operatic grace and emotional realness I associate with Zoe Ellis - really nice vocal counterpoint at the end too. "Mood Swing," another favorite, has a stripped-down minimalist arrangement, and her voice is hushed, warm, and sort of clipped in places - perfect evocation of the lyrics, which are about the ease of slipping from love to obsession. "Someday" has a more upbeat, hopeful sound (almost, but not quite, ruined by the lame keyboard stabs on the verses), with the beautiful ascending lines you don't find often in pop music. And "Need to Know" is the closest to purely rocking out that can be found on this album.
Really amazing stuff. If you live in the Bay Area, you simply must listen to this singer live at every opportunity. If you don't, and you can get your hands on this album, at least you'll get a taste.
itunes link:
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