My Bloody Valentine (album review)

My Bloody Valentine - Loveless
(Creation Records, 1991)

     The exotic tropical paradise of La Habana in Cuba is preparing for the onslaught of a major hurricane. As the wind gusts in from the bay, two young tourists that are probably American are suspiciously dangling their legs over the seawall. Although the Navy Seal floating invisibly in the water might suspect they are traitors, betraying the free world by looking for a unique cultural experience and high quality cigars, the two are mostly harmless. Even though they are both scruffy-looking, they have gorgeous haircuts. As they sip their mojitos, they argue animatedly:

     Wearing a Velvet Underground T-shirt, Stefan is boasting, "I'm so avant garde, I have an original cassette copy of LL Cool J's first LP."

     "That's nothing. I saw Grandmaster Flash spin records back before I was even born." Kevin grins triumphantly in his black Joy Division T-shirt.

     Stephan throws his worn copy of an obscure Hemingway book at Kevin, "Well, I have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import and a white label of every seminal Detroit techno hit."

     Kevin is too excited to acknowledge the LCD Soundsystem reference. "Come on, don't you remember my parents named me for Kevin Shields?"

     "Who the hell is Kevin Shields?"

     "Oh my gosh, you've just lost major cool points, my friend. He's just the guitarist of My Bloody Valentine, the one who signed my Fender Jazzmaster. How could you forget his name?"

     Stefan hangs his head in shame.

     Since the 1991 release of their second LP Loveless [buy], My Bloody Valentine has not only useful for winning annoying name-dropping arguments, but also for causing reviewers to rave, giving a place for Loveless on many significant Best Albums lists. What at first is confusing about the enthusiastic acclaim for the album is that it seems like a mess, a muddy chaos of heavily-filtered guitar drowning out the indiscernible vocals. The music is sluggish like water in a muddy pond. The songs often do not progress cleanly or resolve comfortably.
     But just as pond water beneath the microscope reveals intricate, fascinating life, so Loveless unfolds into an immersive world of sound. The album is not a collection of songs; it is more like a painting that requires thoughtful examination to fully appreciate its colors, its textures, and its meaning. One of the differences between music and traditional visual art is unlike a painting which begins as a whole that the eye deconstructs and conceptualizes, an ordinary musical piece usually begins as a sequential order of tones that creates a whole in the form of a melody recognizable by the ear. However, in the hand of musical geniuses such as Kevin Shields on Loveless, music becomes a unified whole more than a melody simply manufactured from the humble building blocks of notes and chords. It becomes timeless, free from the restraints of progression. Loveless transforms these traditional musical building blocks, wrapping guitar chords in lush sustain effects so that the chords swirl together in a synergy fused into a single blazing star set against the background of dreamy vocals by Shields and fellow band-member Bilinda Butcher.

     Regardless of the medium, masterpieces have the ability to captivate their audience. With enough volume and enough patience, Loveless can overwhelm the listener to the point of speechlessness:

(download)
:: Only Shallow ::
:: To Here Knows When ::
:: When You Sleep ::
:: I Only Said ::
:: Blown a Wish ::

Melankton (album review)

Kate Havnevik - Melankton
Continentica Records, 2007 (US)

For those who are blissfully irrelevant to the ABC medical "dramedy" Grey's Anatomy and apathetic to its waning wit, Kate Havnevik happens to be the resident musician for the show's soundtrack. Avid followers of the show rave about scenes such as the characters Grey and Shepherd's momentous tryst in the season two finale while Havnevik's exclusively-composed song "Grace" plays in the background. The show has also featured five of her other songs throughout other episodes.

To avoid pigeonholing Kate Havnevik any further into the background music for one American television show, she is a classically-trained Norwegian musician and singer. A native of Olso, Norway, she currently bases out of the UK. Her enthralling voice may be familiar to fans of Norwegian trip-hop duo Röyksopp since she has done the supporting vocals on two of their songs from The Understanding [buy] including the wistful "Only This Moment" which she co-wrote. She has also collaborated with British producer Guy Sigsworth to do supporting vocals on the stellar song "Someday (I Will Understand)" by the internationally-renowned songstress Britney Spears. Fortunately for her reputation, after much pleading, Kate persuaded Guy Sigsworth to work with her on more worthwhile endeavors with her own voice at the forefront. Not coincidentally, her collaborative pieces with Guy are reminiscent of Björk and Imogen Heap (Frou Frou), who have also worked with Guy Sigsworth.

Featuring three of Havenik's collaborations with Guy Sigsworth, Melankton [buy] is her debut album, finally released in the States this March. The album swirls in a blend of refined classical pop, and spacey trip-hop. Throughout the album, the dynamic is simultaneously deliberate and delicate. Subtly, the album betrays an underlying chill that is icy but refreshing like this delicious recipe for peach gelato. In an unfortunate endeavor, expansive orchestration offsets this chill with organic accompaniment. Although elegant, this accompaniment borders on being too pervasive, lingering in many conservatively pastoral moments.

Aside from these sluggish arrangements and often nondescript lyrics, Havnevik's hushed vocals fortunately salvage the album, starting with the album's first track, "Unlike Me". A fitting opener, it begins with a pensive verse and steadily builds to a pithy chorus that mourns "There is no time..." The graceful arpeggios of a harp assist in the orchestral accompaniment which is appropriately understated since the song is a collaboration with the previously-mentioned producer Guy Sigsworth. "You Again", another of the Sigsworth-Havnevik collaborations, showcases more of Havnevik's vocals and has a more intimate feel than the opening track. To aid in the song's earnestness, a flute whispers a riveting introduction and evokes an atmospheric mood that continues into the rest of the song. Appropriately preventing the song's ambiance from being too monotonous, the flute accented by fresh-sounding violins played pizzicato blooms in a trembling interlude to the entreating melody. Kate's voice exhibits its best potential toward the end of the album with the lush, seven minute "New Day". It commences with strings humming a wandering theme that soon unites with Havnevik's voice and quirky electronic beats for a symphonic euphoria, the album's high point.

Amid these cryptic laments, heartwarming pleas, and surreal reveries, Melankton sheepishly tries to hide a few embarrassing low points. "Not Fair" pouts away in a prosaic depression that, with a little imagination, could be sung by Celine Dion. While "Suckerlove" does not sound as stale, its introduction is abrupt, seemingly incomplete. The song proceeds lethargically, awkwardly languishing in a forgettable melodrama. Equally forgettable is "Solo", included on the US version of the album anticlimactically after "New Day". Obviously, it is an b-side and an afterthought. Simplistic and acoustic, it is innocuous, great material for an easy-listening radio station.

Despite its low points, Melankton is otherwise a fascinating work. It soothes and relaxes, creating an ideal setting for, say, a cool summer evening. It displays solid imagery that is captivating and almost eerie at times. Protests that the album is unoriginal and unadventurous quickly become extinguished in the album's dreamy mist that causes the listener to become happily lost in the unfamiliar magic of night.

More songs

The Italian equivalent of Norah Jones, Amalia Grè has a voice that is playful and light:
"Armonafrica Televisiva"

"La Camisa Negra" is a distinctively melodic Latin pop song by the Columbian musician Juanes.

Stadium Arcadium (album review)

Taking Back Sunday has signed with Warner Brothers on Louder Now, their new album. What do you think? I haven’t listened to it, but I would guess that their debut on Victory Records Tell All Your Friends is relatively better—as far as pop-punk goes. Speaking of Warner Brothers...

Red Hot Chili Peppers - Stadium Arcadium
(Warner Brothers, 2006)

Another band on the Warner Brothers label is the enduring Red Hot Chili Peppers. They have matured significantly since the 80s, a time when their psychedelic funk and slap bass mirrored their chaotic lifestyles as performers in the LA alternative scene. They sang, or rather shouted, lyrics that were risqué, and often played only wearing socks. Now, lead singer Anthony Kiedis, bassist Michael "Flea" Balzary, and the rest of the Chili Peppers are idols of mainstream rock. Their certified gold albums can be found in any respectable person’s CD collection between Radiohead and REM.
Originally, the band intended to release their most recent studio material as a trio of mini-albums. Possibly to prevent their song set from becoming fragmented, they decided against the mini-albums, instead publishing it as the two-disc set Stadium Arcadium. The album was produced by Rick Rubin, the same producer for all their previous studio albums starting with Blood Sugar Sex Magik (1992). Having the same producer, Stadium Arcadium retains the signature Chili Pepper sound, especially the subdued, innocuous sound of the two previous albums.

The first disk, titled Jupiter, begins with the radio single “Dani California”, a forgivable song about a girl named Dani. She is the fictional character who also appears in their 1999 anti-globalism song “Californication” as the “teenage guide with a baby inside”. The latter single remains the better of two.
After this first track, the disk proceeds to showcase Flea’s ingenious basslines with tracks like “Charlie” in which Kiedis unleashes a carefree mixture of spoken verse and rambling melody. Guitarist John Frusciante capably responds to Kiedis, outdoing the vocals with a torrent of funky, textured chords. Frusciante’s guitar abilities continue to excel on the song “Slow Cheetah”, in which the band undertakes a more bluesy approach. A finger-picked acoustic guitar introduction leads into the ballad that contains cryptic lines like “They tried to tell her she’d never be happy as a girl in a magazine/She bought it with her faith”.
After the hour long Juipiter, the listener’s ears easily begin to tire. The second disk, titled Mars, proceeds with no apparent distinction from the first disk, save that the bulk of its tracks are less memorable than the tracks on the first. Even with jaded ears, however, the listener will readily enjoy Frusciante’s Hendrix-esque fret magic on “Turn It Again”. This vibrant song creates an atmosphere reminiscent of the sun-drenched scenery along Huntington Beach on a spring morning. Most dazzling is this song’s culminating guitar solo that smolders like the noon sun.
“Animal Bar” as well deserves attention with its expansive sophistication. It elicits a hopeful serenity, a delicate cultivation of the Chili Pepper’s original bacchanalian muse. The song is mature without sounding artificial and over-produced, unlike most of the other songs on Mars and Jupiter that drip with processed studio charm

At risk of sounding blasphemous to the Almighty Beatles, the lengthy Stadium Arcadium with its 28 tracks could be the Chili Pepper’s equivalent to the Beatles’ White Album. Like the White Album, Stadium Arcadium exhibits an immediately distinguishable music style as created by the band. Still, the album is disappointingly unadventurous and bloated, though it has hints of experimentation that are appropriately subtle. Luckily, it preserves Kiedis’s signature voice, and Flea’s distinctive bass lead. Perhaps its familiar, distinctive sound is its strength. With this album, the band celebrates their own sound that has been skillfully developed from their madcap endeavor to blend pop with old-school punk and psychedelic funk.

Note: After what Lost Highway did to those Ryan Adams fans, I will wait to post songs until after the album is released in stores 9 May. Check back then.

Lately, I have been interested in discovering new creative musical talent from across the Atlantic that didn’t involve cheesy Eurovision jingles that are mostly in broken English. The recently discovered album Nothing's Lost by Styrofoam from the the German indie label Morr Music is now my favorite album of the week:

Styrofoam – Nothing’s Lost
(Morr Music, 2004)

     Many would say that Jack Kerouac was one of the most influential writers of the twentieth century. His famous book On the Road, a semi-biographical and semi-confused frenzy of cross-country self-realization, gave him the title “King of the Beat Generation” and inspired a generation of post-modern writers and musicians, who in turn propagate his muse to the present.
     One of the many songs that pay homage to Kerouac is found on the album Nothing’s Lost by Belgian electronic artist Arne Van Petegem under his nom de plume Styrofoam. The endearing song “Couches In Alleys (ft. Ben Gibbard)” describes the identification that the speaker has with the symbolic escape the Road offers from the dreary, monochromatic routines of life. But upon reaching the end of the road, the speaker has to return home, where he comes to the realization that “I hadn't gone anywhere/And the problems I'd left were couches in alleys, that no one would ever claim.” The speaker asks for Jack’s advice with his dilemma—he is torn between the reveling in the enticing unknown of the Road, and resolving his problems that refuse to disappear on their own. As many beatniks wondered, forced to betray their naïve idealism for financial prosperity in the suburban sprawl, so the speaker wonders, why does the road end?

     Nothing’s Lost, of course, is more than one song’s tribute to a 20th century literary work. It is an expertly and carefully constructed blend of wistful daydreams and fuzzy melodic beats accented by playful sounds and blips reminiscent of squeaky styrofoam (the white stuff). The cohesiveness of the assorted musical styles is courtesy the brilliant mind of Styrofoam who rivals stateside experimental electronic artists. In this endeavor, Styrofoam enlists the talents of a number of prominent electronic artists including American ones. The first track “Misguided” is a duet that features Lali Puna’s Valerie Trebeljahr and the progressive hip-hop act Alias. It blends the ambient, otherworldly voice of Trebeljahr with the staccato commentary of Alias.
     Andrew Kenny from American Analog Set lends his voice to “Front To Back” which is probably the most prominent song on the record, despite not being created live in a studio, but rather being assembled through audio files exchanged electronically between the United States and Belgium. Andrew Kenny’s gentle voice gives the track an organic, intimate feel that makes one imagine encountering a park complete with a sapphire lake ringed with pines hidden away amidst the crowded streets of a cheerless city.
     Besides other collaborative tracks, like the memorable duet “Anything” between Das Pop’s Bent Van Looy and Japanese singer Miki, Petegem contributes not only the production and arrangements but also his own breathy vocals to complete this solidly produced album, currently his most accomplished work.