#But it's hard to find a pre-existing band that's in need of a new singer/rhythm guitarist

[scary-ivy]

I really should watch Bocchi the Rock or Daisy Jones & The Six but I think watching fictional bands form would be too much for me like emotionally. I want to be in a band so bad :''(

[29tune]

melophobia - cage the elephant

rating: 7

genre:  alternative rock, indie rock, psychedelic rock, hard rock, garage rock

highlights: spiderhead, come a little closer, take it or leave it, hypocrite, cigarette daydreams

review: a lot of these tunes had already been a part of my life for a while now, but i’d never thought to sit and listen to the whole album, a silly mistake. while slightly “mainstream” (if you care, that means “fantastic enough to make radio hits” in my opinion), 

track 1; spiderhead: this song was definitely one of my favourites as a pre-teen; colorful, bright, exciting, energetic, and painfully catchy. these are all the qualities that gave it a dear place in my heart and introduced me to the modern wave of indie and alternative music of the 2000s. a fantastic opener and a very fun song, with a fantastic guitar breakdown at the end. “either I'm in heaven, or i'm in hell, am I losing my mind here? ('cause I can't tell)”

track 2; come a little closer: you probably know this one too. starting with a brilliant bass line and a smooth, quiet voice, perfect fo a stroll alone outside with a brilliant jump into the chorus. once again, infectious rhythm, but the tune leans on the more emotional and touching side, melancholy, as opposed to that colorful and optimistic “spiderhead” prior. “heartbreaks, the heavy world's upon your shoulders, will we burn on or just smolder?” once again, the song builds into a brilliant ending before bursting into the final chorus.

track 3; telescope: so, so far im wondering why the heck this album didn’t become a part of my repertoire years ago? a pleasant intro into ballad like vocals, with a moody guitar melody in the back. somewhat reminiscent of the arctic monkeys, imagine alex turner taking a sick day off and getting a new vocalist in, and maybe with a little help from arcade fire to finish it off. “here in my mind, losing my friends, fall on my face, do it again”. overall a pretty, melancholy, but still bright and calming tune.

track 4; it’s just forever: scratchy guitar tone with a brilliantly loud bass-line, they’ve enlisted a female singer (alison mosshart) and it adds an extra, maybe slightly abrasive but still interesting layer to the song. all in all, a bit filler but still a solid song on the album and certainly heavier than the earlier tracks with a similarly slick bass as in “come a little closer”. 

track 5; take it or leave it: as soon as i heard the first half-second it clicked; this was the second tune of my entire grade 8 existence? nostalgia is the sweetest element to any song and this song is sickly-sweet. even without memories anyone would love it, it’s as usual, a lovely and bright tune with a ridiculously catchy guitar and bass-line, and beautiful choruses. “oh why won’t you make up your mind?” a sweet summer day in musical form.

track 6; halo: once again, if there’s one thing this band has down flawless, is the brilliance of their bass-guitar-drum lines. they draw the listener in immediately and are even doubly-pleasing in the chorus and bridges. this song is no exception, in fact this entire album reads as the soundtrack to teenage summer days, (mis)adventures with friends, full of optimism and empty of cares. yes, they’ve encapsulated this on an album. “every time i get away you find a way to reel me back in”

track 7; black widow: smoother, more suppressed vocals, a brass-section, and heavy percussion, make this tune different and more than equally catchy. while not a favorite on the album it’s very solid. “set me up just to watch me fall“

track 8; hypocrite: instrumentally, perfect start, it’s interesting that they started adding brass elements in the latter half of the album. calm and quiet intro, with a light little bridge, and a still delicate (well, their definition) chorus, followed by dissonant brass. it’s definitely a highlight for me and a lovely gem to find. “i watched the strawberry fields dry up and wither away”

track 9; teeth: jumping into a faster pace and noisier guitar, distorted vocals. this is definitely something my sister would enjoy, it’s just a bit too noisy/messy/loud for me, but again, still solid. more of a dancy tune with it’s fast rhythm and bonus points for replacing the guitar with a saxophone solo. chaotic and fun. “call the doctor but don't call the police” the song takes a quick turn into what’s nearly another song, the outro a spoken word. all in all not my favourite on the album and it drags on with the outro there too.

track 10; cigarette daydreams: oh yeah, it’s that one. overplayed on the radio, sure, but for good reason. a beautiful end to the album with its light acoustic and piano, and a soft gentle voice. a bittersweet, melancholy goodbye to the summer, that’s at least the role it has played in my life. i dont have a lot of commentary here, it’s a stunning song, and it will always have a big place in my heart. “you can drive all night, looking for the answers in the pouring rain”

overall, a lovely little album. perfect for anyone looking to venture into the more pop-rocky indie/alt side of music, or just needing something new. it’s got its weaker/not as memorable tunes but the highlights, in my opinion, really make up for it. with jumps between heartfelt tunes, energetic and bouncy, optimistic ones, slicker and smoother songs, bittersweet and nostaglic feelings, this album has a bit of everything. and it’s lovely for that fact.

[onestowatch]

Q&A: “Country Soul” Band Whitney Talks Touring, Breakup Advice, & New Music

Spearheaded by singer/drummer Julien Ehrlich and guitarist Max Kakacek, Chicago-based band Whitney embodies an ever-evolving headspace for the two talented artists. 

Accompanied by a five-piece band, the duo self-identifies as “country soul”--an eclectic label that encapsulates their genre-defying, under-the-radar sound. Ehrlich, who began as the drummer for Unknown Mortal Orchestra and Smith Westerns, and Kakacek, a guitarist in the latter, lay the groundwork for Whitney’s melancholy-yet-uplifting sound. 

Max Kakacek helped us navigate Whitney’s winding path to present day, with a critically acclaimed Light Upon The Lake album under their belts and all seven members headlining world tours, performing at Coachella, Lollapalooza, Shaky Knees, and more.

OTW: How did Whitney initially form?

Max: We met in Oregon, while Julien was playing for Unknown Mortal Orchestra and opening for Smith Westerns. He was around 19 and I must’ve been 21. A few years later, when he wasn’t doing UMO anymore, I called him up because we had hung out, drank and whatever you do when you’re young on tour. UMO had been opening for Smith Westerns for two or three months, and so I called him up and said “Do you wanna drum for Smith Westerns?” and he said yes, so he moved in with Cullen (Omori) and slept on our couch for a while. Over the next year we became really close friends, and after Smith Westerns broke up, we were just buddies who were working on our own single projects. I was making some weird, kind of crappy solo music, and one day we made a song together, almost as a joke just messing around. It ended up being something we really liked and from then on we just started working together. 

OTW: In the early stages when Whitney first formed, what steps did you take to make sure that it remained an individual force apart from your previous work?

Max: An important thing to know is that we didn’t really sit down and have that conversation. I think that we had been out of those bands for long enough that we weren’t going to make songs that sounded like previous projects. Of course Julien’s voice is very different from Reuben’s or Cullen’s, so that was obviously an easy distinction to make. Especially in the very beginning, our recording process was very limited--they were very lo-fi, folky, country songs, and I think what inspired us was that it was so different from the stuff we were making before. But we never really sat down and had a conversation that was like, “We should go in this direction because other projects that we’d been involved in did this.” I think it was important that we never had that conversation, because that puts you in a weird headspace, comparing yourself to previous things that you’ve done. 

OTW: Understandable. So, who is Whitney anyway? 

Max: I’m not really sure at this point--it kind of changes around. When the band first started, we used the name as a way to get perspective on songs we were writing outside of ourselves. I don’t think we ever gave that character any sort of real life characteristics. It was just more of a tool for us to use if we got too close to a song, if we were working on something for a long time and lost perspective on what it sounded like, or a way for us to back up and take a look at it from afar. 

OTW: We’ve often seen you guys described as country soul or folk soul. What does “soul” mean to you in the context of your music?

Max: At the very beginning of Whitney, we were both obsessed with these weird lost recordings by people like Abner Jay and Jim Ford. The soul of the recording came from the idea that they were never found, and existed in this weird music vacuum of bands that should’ve probably been much larger than they ever became. The music was lost and people now reissue it and find it. We were pretty obsessed with that idea. 

OTW: We’re big fans of the label you guys are on, Secretly Canadian. What is it like being a part of that and how have they shaped your career?

Max: Everyone who’s a part of it is awesome, especially when we were first starting out, and they first signed us. We pretty much talked to them every day.

OTW: How did you find them? 

Max: They found us--we had a good friend that was working for them. They heard our demos and then brought us to Bloomington where the label’s based. We played a show and the only attendees were people from the label, and the next day they sat us down in this really bizarre, semi-official room, and told us they’d like to buy our record. All of us were super excited and happy, and then moving forward from there, we didn’t really have management until after the album was completely recorded. So every step of the way we were talking with them about mixes and artwork that we liked, and they were very easy to deal with without needing a manager. Whereas with a lot of labels, you need someone as a liaison between you and the label, but for us it was just really easy to talk to them and trust them. It was nice to develop that relationship very early on. 

OTW: What other band members and instruments are involved in the live show right now?

Max: Julien plays drums and sings, I play lead guitar, Print Chouteau plays rhythm guitar, Will Miller plays trumpet, Josiah Marshall plays bongos and bass, and Malcolm Brown plays keys. We’ve got a sound guy that travels with us named Charles Webb, who’s just the man. It’s been pretty much the same crew since we’ve started. No one’s left, so since day 1 of touring this has been the group. 

OTW:  Are they all involved in recording the music, or is that just you and Julien?

Max: Yeah, they are all involved. Julien and I give a rough kind of skeleton of what we think the instruments should do. Usually, a lot of songs we play live before we record them, and as we keep playing them each part kind of takes its own meaning. Everyone gets to put their own spin on what they play, and when we go to the studio, we play it the way that we perform it live. 

OTW: How has the tour been? Have you seen a good reaction? 

Max: The tour’s been great so far. We’re doing a 90 day tour--60 days in America and 30 in Europe. We started in April, and we’re almost done with the first third, where we performed at Coachella, and we did a lot of other dates down the West coast. We’ve been to the West coast three or four times at this point and we’ve made a lot of friendships, so we got to see all of our homies that we’ve met from being on the road. And a lot of us have family out there, so it’s been kind of a breeze. We all got to see Kendrick Lamar at Coachella which was amazing. 

OTW: That’s legendary. Anything in particular that you’ve learned from this tour?

Max: We should’ve known this a long time ago, but I was talking to a buddy Kevin Morby who’s also a musician, and he gave us the tip to try and drink 100 ounces of water every day before a show. So we’ve all been trying to do that, and then you can pretty much do whatever you want at night. (laughs)

OTW: Oh is that right? Has it worked?

Max: So far so good. 

OTW: You’re playing a ton of festivals in the U.S. and overseas. Are there any in particular you’re most excited for? 

Max: I think a lot of them are ones we haven’t played yet. Lollapalooza will be a homecoming show for us, which will be awesome. Osheaga I’ve never been to, and it’s legendary for certain reasons so we’re excited to go there. Primavera I played when I was 19, that’s in Barcelona and it’s an amazing festival, and right now we’re actually on our way to one called Fortress Fest in Dallas/Fort Worth, and it’s the first year of the festival. So it’ll be interesting to see how it compares to festivals that’ve been around longer. 

OTW: Now back to the album Light Upon The Lake. What song do you personally connect with the most, and which would you say you most enjoy playing live? 

Max: I think it kinda changes on a day-to-day or week-to-week basis for both, but I think “Light Upon the Lake” is the most personal to me. As far as live goes, at the moment it’s “Follow,” but again I think that’s pretty much per show, you’ll have a show where a certain song will play really well. “Polly” is usually a favorite of mine now too; that song is really fun to play live. 

OTW: I know “Polly” is a song that deals with one of your breakups. What is your best breakup advice? 

Max: Drink 100 ounces of water per day. (laughs) No, I’m joking. I’m not sure. Me and Julien are kind of going through breakups right now. We’ve had like a year of touring, and we’ve had girls that we’d been seeing and after a year of touring, things have gotten really hard. So we’re both dealing with that, and I think the vibe is to try and block them from all social media and not look at anything they post. Try to just block them from your life for a little bit before you can go back and talk to them again if you want to.

OTW: That’s good advice. So what’s next, have you started working on any follow-up to the album? 

Max: Yeah, so we just recorded a couple covers that were released really recently. Tight now we’re playing a new song live that we’re all psyched on; it doesn’t really have a name yet, we’re still figuring it out. So we have about two and a half songs done. We have three weeks off in July where we’ll be writing, and then we have all of September off, and Julien and I are going to live in this cabin off of Mt. Hood in Oregon to write. We’re starting to get back to writing, but our tour schedule is pretty hectic. Whenever we’re not on tour, we try to put our heads down and get to work. 

OTW: Who are some Ones To Watch artist on your radar that you predict will break in the next couple years? 

Max: Well she’s just gotten a lot of press and was just on tour with us, her name’s Julie Byrne--she’s a singer-songwriter and she’s absolutely amazing. When we pick opening bands we try and pick people who we think are awesome and who we’d like to get into a bigger audience, so right now we’re on tour with good friends with a band called Golden Daze. One of the guys is an old Chicago guy and went to school at the same time as I did, so we’ve known each other since then.  

[wildseedculturalgroup]

New Music from Black Magic Woman Santigold

Santigold’s latest work has me diggin’ through the proverbial crates. February 26, 2016 she released her third solo album, 99¢, which quickly sent me to Joan Armatrading and from there Grace Jones. Such is the ‘mind life’ of a DJ - we look back to better understand the now.

In the retrospective glance, I found a thread—a shared dance on the lines that connect UK new wave to roots reggae, and Caribbean punk—musical elements of the Black Atlantic coupled with rhythmic traces of migration. I understand Santigold and her place in music to be somewhat of an anomaly, but only when juxtaposed against pop artists who shine bright under the light of America’s marketable musical mediocrity. This is why I can’t bring myself to categorize her sound as alternative. In my world, pop culture doesn’t set the standard for what's normal, regardless of mass appeal and the conditioning of the public it requires. 

I was introduced to Santi White through her involvement with the artist Res. The album How I Do made it big on the low with only one breakthrough song: “They-Say Vision.” The song reached #37 on Billboard’s Dance Chart. There were no platinum sales or regular radio play for any other track.

It was an album that lived on the edge of the underground, but managed to make its way through the speakers of music heads across America and beyond. Res held her own as a vocalist and felt at home in the delivery and phrasing of the lyrics. How I Do, in all of its  soul cult classic glory was an important not-to-be-slept-on collaboration. Santi White was the executive producer and co-writer for the project and my learning of that information was colored by incredulity, like word? Well who is Santi White? And what’s this I hear about her romantic connection to Mos Def? There were rumors, ones I never felt compelled to confirm or deny, but upon falling in love with the album, I, like a number of listeners, squinted my eyes, the way that people do to increase their hearing, to understand the meaning behind the track Golden Boy. Was this a sonic calling out of Mos Def the celebrity versus Yasiin Bey the personal jerk? If nothing else, I felt humanized by his ‘complexity’ and impressed by Santi White’s emotional honesty. If the rumors were true, I appreciated Res’ performative role as a representative for the perils and pleasure of black love.

And would they love you if they knew all the things we know We've got these images We need them to be true Not ready to believe we're no more insecure than you

--Golden Boys

 I kept my ear to the streets of Santi’s musical movement, waiting for the release of her first solo album. When she finally dropped Santogold in 2008, I knew she had staying power and exciting force behind her creative process. The album made its mark, introducing us to the experimental nu-dub sounds of producer Diplo and pulling off that hard to achieve mature blend of electronic music and the one drop—accentuated by an unexpected black woman’s new wave voice floating between and on top.

Santi was born and raised in Philly and I’m quite sure that her ear caught wind of the regional rhythm that city is known for. Not only was she within listening range of the Philadelphia Soul sound and the masterful ministers of dance floor activism (Gamble and Huff), she grew up alongside the burgeoning Soulquarian movement, a ?uestlove led crew heralded as the founders of the annoyingly misnamed neo-soul music.

To be clear, Santi is a formally trained musician. She took her Philly soul education to one of the nation’s most prestigious music schools, Wesleyan University, and double majored in African-American Studies and music. I can feel how sonic cultural knowledge and intellectual curiosity show up in the vocal arrangement, drum patterns, and lyrics in her music. I’m equally moved by the fact that she dropped out of college to become an A&R rep for Epic Records—a proper nod to her anti-establishment punk roots. 

Between 2003-05 she worked with Bad Brains bassist Darryl Jennifer, placing herself in direct conversation with Black punk (pre Afropunk) royalty. Santi was the founding member and lead singer for the Philly based punk band Stiffed and she and Jennifer co-produced the band’s two albums.

This is a big deal! Black girls have existed on the margins of punk music/culture for years and we can trace Santi’s footprints to NYC’s and Philly’s underground early 2000s punk and post punk scene through her work with this band. Both Stiffed albums,  Sex Sells (2003) and Burned Again (2005), are now part of a Black punk archives, excavate at will.

It was on the east coast punk scene where she was courted by London based independent label Lizard King Records. This wouldn’t be the first time that the UK, while poking their heads into American underground culture, would find some of our brightest; see N’dea Davenport, Jhelisa, Carleen Anderson and early Detroit Techno pioneers for proof. The UK soul scene (Soul II Soul, Massive Attack, D’influence, etc.), drew influences from diasporic Caribbean riddims, continental African polyrhythms, and Black American funk. Santi fits well within this tradition—this transnational artist community. By 2006, she was offered a solo contract by Lizard King and was pushed even further along her path.

When we talk about Black Magic Women, a phrase first introduced to me through the music of Santana, I geek out thinking about the many worlds from whence this specific brand of sparkle can be found. 99¢ is exciting not only because it’s a well produced arrangement of captivating songs that speak to a range of emotions and human experiences, but also, as reactionary as it may seem, important because it challenges the limited engagement of Black women as brilliant musical creatures. That phenomenon of erasure leaves the American collective imagination about black women’s relationship to the creation of music, dull at best.

Fortunately, social media, the people’s platform, has given us so much access to unpopular Black magic women with hidden, but righteous art, ideas and intentionally developed talent. For decades we’ve been using independent media platforms as a vehicle to resist erasure, and as a tool to dismantle static ideas about beauty, gender and politics that echo out our voices as cultural producers.

Consistent with indie culture, a tradition where Santi is steeped, her latest album 99¢ is complete with interactive videos. The album cover boasts a pink background and has the artist shrink wrapped amidst a few of her favorite things, including: multiple keyboards, a pair of golden clogs, a disco ball, and a license plate with her name spelled out from Brazil. With a little homework I discovered that the license plate is a souvenir from her performance at the 2012 Back2Black Festival in Brazil, which implies that her album cover is, again, akin to a living archive. She also performed during the week of the album’s release at Jack’s 99 Cents store in NYC, a decision that seems directly related to the DIY approach found in the early hip-hop economic model. 

Santi White is functioning at capacity in an underworld, a world that must be sought out and unearthed. An underworld without super video budgets, automatic radio play,  a world where concerts' ticket prices will not exceed that of a car note.

Let's explore this further. I’d like to challenge you to think of Santi as a variation of Beyoncé, or better yet, think of them as variations of each other. While the two are read as polar opposites, it’s only because we’re not given much of an opportunity to interface with the large number of multifaceted Black women who make music. I would argue that both women stand in their craft with high levels of artistic integrity and did so for at least a decade before being ‘discovered’. Both women have a clear commitment to the mastery of technical skills. And while the distinction between the two are worth investigation, I’m moved by their collective drive and clear that the evolutionary aspect of their respective practices, the fine tuning of every part of the project, is largely ignored because they are Black women. People get real stingy when assigning the title genius to these particular bodies, and too generous in framing their work as naturally good versus ruthlessly perfected.

Collectively, Bey and Santigold’s work share impact - different scales of impact, but recognizable impact. That said, Beyoncé doesn’t have to be the standard against which all Black women are measured. I am very aware of her hyper-exposure, but the comparison between the two felt like an outlandish and therefore exciting way to think about how even the most visible Black women are unseen.

In 2012, a few years had passed since I’d heard from Santigold. This was after her first solo release, and I felt good that she didn’t rush into her next album. I’m not moved by the push to ride the buzz of first album success. I’d rather artists be given the space to carefully craft an album. I’m a student of the school of Sade, who averaged a new album every two-four years. In true Capricorn fashion Sade made us wait 8 years between between Love Deluxe and Lover’s Rock, then nearly another decade between Lover’s Rock and Soldier of Love. And I say yes! Let it marinate, experience life, take your time, do it right. By the time Santi’s “Master of my Make Believe” dropped March 1 of 2012, I felt good and ready, with just a slight bit of anxiety about her return. The wait between albums creates intimacy between you and the artist, it’s so precious. And the second album was indeed a demonstration of artistic investment.

So is the third - I like all but 1.5 songs on the 99¢ album. The half comes from a song on which I love her verse and the music on a track (“Who Be Lovin Me”), but that features a less talented emcee, iLoveMakonnen. To be fair to her, I have a low tolerance for guest rappers in general, most times it feels like a music industry ploy to expand the market. The other song I struggled with is the first single from the album, “Can’t Get Enough of Myself,” a necessary anthem for young people and people in general who are listening, but it left me wanting more or, to be honest, had me worried that she was abandoning her soulful punk core for some chart friendly shit. I wasn’t having it. After falling in love with the rest of the album I was able to engage the opening track from a distance and I plan to introduce it to my pre-teen niece, but I will probably forever start the album from the second track and dive head first into the dopeness of every other song on the project.

Santigold is an artist who comes from a lineage of fierce, independent, business savvy, cutting edge, socially conscious women who find a way to produce and not be (publicly) swallowed up by the by-products of success. Her presence in the music industry is no small thing, and when you check her ghostwriting credentials you’ll see she’s written for so many of your favorite people (Lili Allen, Ashlee Simpson and Blaqstarr to name a few). I’m a witness to her maturation, her growing global presence, and her interdisciplinary approach to the arts. Santigold embodies voices of the unsung.

She’s on tour now and I had the opportunity to see her Black excellence live at the Hollywood Paladium last week. But I have to admit, I was thrown off by the sea of white millenials that made up the majority of concert goers. They were there in force, mouthing her lyrics verbatim, dancing a step behind the beat, and representing the fact that she lacks the support of Black radio and the embrace of Black youth. It became more clear that Santi is one of those artists who is vulnerable to the belief that hers is not Black music, but from my gatekeeping position as an authority (DJ), my work here is to place her where she belongs, squarely between the tradition and the future of Black music.

[fayewonglibrary]

Kindred Spirits: Faye Wong and Cocteau Twins (2020)

Documenting the brief and unlikely creative crossover between a Chinese pop diva and a dysfunctional Scottish post-punk band.

This article was originally published on Luoo.net, a now-defunct Chinese music webzine, in 2016. Many thanks to Zhou Jingsi who commissioned and translated the original article.

They could not have been any more different, at least on paper. One was a Chinese pop diva, a megastar who dominated the Sinophone music world for over a decade. The other was a dysfunctional Scottish post-punk band, which enjoyed significant critical acclaim but only modest commercial success in the West. Yet in the mid-90s, while the former’s career was in the ascendant and the latter’s was unravelling, their creative visions would briefly align to produce a handful of incredible songs; the fruits of an uncanny alliance of musical kindred spirits from East and West.

Faye Wong should need little introduction to readers of this website [see note above]: a Beijing-born singer who moved to Hong King and found fame as a pop star, actress and celebrity in the 90s and 00s. Though now apparently retired from her recording career, she remains deeply revered, as the fervour around the release of a ‘lost’ album [1] earlier this year attests.

Cocteau Twins might need a little more introduction, remaining something of an enigma even in the West. Formed in Scotland, UK, in 1979, they had arrived at their own unique, ethereal take on post-punk by the mid-80s. The guitars of Robin Guthrie and Simon Raymonde sounded like lonely glaciers drifting through dark seas, while Liz Fraser’s otherworldly warblings flitted as free from any traditional sense of melody as they did from language, with lyrics employing a vernacular entirely of her own. While the genesis of their sound can be traced to the early works of peers such as Siouxsie & The Banshees and The Cure, their own ‘beautiful noise’ would be foundational to a subsequent generation of Shoegaze bands in the early 90s [2]. By 1997, after 8 albums and numerous E.Ps, the band was brought to a halt by drug problems and the collapse of a romantic relationship between Guthrie and Fraser.

So where and how did this peculiar pairing begin? Perhaps surprisingly, it was initiated by Wong, who began asserting creative independence over her pop career with the 1994 E.P《胡思亂想》(Random Thoughts), recording cover versions of two Cocteaus’ songs, ‘Bluebeard’ and ‘Know Who You Are At Every Age’ [3]. The band themselves later admitted they had not heard of Wong at the time, unaware of her cover versions until after their release. As Raymonde notes:

“We heard that a big Asian rock star had covered some songs of ours, then when we heard them we were actually quite impressed. Usually, the Cocteau’s covers bands don’t quite get it, so it was a nice surprise, and instrumentally they even sounded like they had worked hard to get it right” [4]

Following this, the Cocteaus reached out to Wong by writing two songs for her 1996 album《浮躁》(Anxiety): 《分裂》(Fracture) and 《掃興》(Spoilsport). It is here that the similarities between the two entities are perfectly demonstrated, with both songs fittingly seamlessly into Wong’s own oeuvre while remaining recognisably Cocteaus’ creations [5]. The album itself was the result of Wong’s ongoing attempt to assert control over the musical direction, and indeed the influence of Western alternative rock and indie pervades the whole album beyond the two Cocteau related tracks. Wong’s use of made-up words throughout the album also appears to have been influenced by Fraser’s own playful use of language in the Cocteaus’ songs.

Wong would return the favour that same year by recording vocals for the track ‘Serpentskirt’, on the Cocteaus’ ‘Milk & Kisses’ album. This remains the only track to feature both band and singer on the same recording, resulting in a stunning vocal duet between Fraser and Wong over Guthrie and Raymonde’s brooding backing track. Sadly, this version of the song was limited to the Asian CD release of the album, which, while no doubt aiding Cocteaus’ profile in Asia, meant Wong would remain unknown to the typical Western indie fan.

And so these seven songs were the only fruit of this uncanny alliance. The singer and band did not meet each other in person or communicate directly throughout this period, with much of it facilitated by Wong’s producer Alvin Leong. Raymonde stated that he and Guthrie had considered moving to China to join Wong’s backing band after the Cocteaus split up, though this never occurred, perhaps due in part to the circumstances of their own bands’ demise. Wong’s own recording career would go on to follow many stylistic twists and turns, and while many of her subsequent songs would echo the influence of Cocteau Twins, there would be no further direct references to the band [6].

So why document this, beyond the curiosity value of such an unexpected team-up? Well, it reminds us that music is more than just a cultural product. We live in an age where the qualities we ascribe to music are determined by a cycle of production and consumption. That is, when we hear a piece of music, we think of it in terms of having been produced in a specific location: for example, East or West. We think of it in terms of being produced within the boundaries of specific, pre-existing genres: for example ‘pop’ or ‘indie’. How we subsequently respond to this piece of music depends on the way we let our tastes define who we are: for example, as the mainstream consumer partaking in the broader social milieu, or the clued-up, alternative consumer, wanting to be seen as being detached from the status quo.

The Faye Wong and Cocteau Twins collaborations take all of these dichotomies — East/West, Pop/Indie, Mainstream/Alternative — and implode them. Sure, collaborations between Eastern and Western musicians are nothing new, but for the most part, wherever such hybrids exist, this mixing of Eastern and Western characteristics is overemphasised. Faye Wong and Cocteau Twins each create ethereal, melodic music that transcends both orient and occident in their otherworldliness. Genre distinctions are exhausted; is it a pop song if Faye Wong sings it, but an indie rock track if recorded by Cocteau Twins? Such a question becomes irrelevant here.

Much of this is, of course, down to the idiosyncrasies of the artists themselves; Faye Wong, the creatively independent mainstream star, and Cocteau Twins, the alternative band searching for perfect pop harmonies. But faced with their uncanny sonic similarities, we are left to consider music in its purest form: as sound, mood, timbre, tone and rhythm, with infinite plasticity that can find its likeness anywhere. While it is a shame that they did not collaborate more than they did — one can only imagine what a whole Cocteau Twins-penned Faye Wong album would have been like — this handful of songs reminds us of the power of music to transcend mundane categorisation.

Written by Simon R. Bishop

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SOURCE:  MEDIUM

[jazzworldquest-blog]

USA: The Glenn Crytzer Orchestra CD Release Party Wed., May 9th 7:30pm @ the Montauk Club

The Glenn Crytzer Orchestra "Ain't It Grand?" CD Release Party Wednesday, May 9th 7:30pm @ the Montauk Club 25 8th Ave. Brooklyn, NY 11217 Tickets & Info New Double CD Set

Artist: THE GLENN CRYTZER ORCHESTRATitle: AIN’T IT GRAND? Label: BLUE RHYTHM RECORDS (self produced) Artist Website: glenncrytzer.com Release Date: MAY 9, 2018 UPC Code: 088907213631 Glenn Crytzer (g, bj, v, dir, a) Sam Hoyt, Mike Davis, Jason Prover (t) Rob Edwards, Joe McDonough, Jim Fryer (tb) Jay Rattman (as, ss, cl) Mark Lopeman, Marc Schwartz (as,ts,cl) Matt Koza (ts,cl) Henry “Ricky” Alexander (as,bar,cl) Rob Reich (p) Ian Hutchison (sb) Andrew Millar (d) Hannah Gill, Dandy Wellington (v) TRACK LISTING DISC ONE 1. The 408 Special 2. Black Beauty 3. Just Like A Broken Record 4. Up and at ‘Em 5. Ain’t It Grand? 6. When I Get Low I Get High 7. A String of Pearls 8. Blue Jay 9. Steppin’ In Rhythm 10. Who’s Yehoodi? 11. A Woman Needs A Man 12. Jive at Five 13. I’m Nuts About Screwy Music 14. Thank You for the Moments 15. Well, Git it! TRACK LISTING DISC TWO 1. Rhythm is our Business 2. The Glory of Love 3. Jubilee Stomp 4. Who Needs Spring? 5. Shorty’s Got to Go 6. Solo Flight 7. Marche Slav 8. I Get Ideas 9. The Ugly Duckling 10. The Little Orange Man 11. The Mooche 12. Massachusetts 13. Swing My Soul 14. Bear Foot Blues 15. Traffic Jam

Available From: Amazon•CDBaby•iTunes• Bandcamp

This may sound like a left-field introduction to this exceptional album by Glenn Crytzer, but bear with me: have you ever heard any of the classic big bands of the 1930s as recorded by the Associated transcription service? (Technically, the company was known as “Associated Music Publishers” and in 1936, their office was located at 25 West 46th St, Manhattan.)  The recordings made by Associated sound very different from the standard 78 RPM singles that were commercially released by the various labels, major and minor, and they also sound very different from the other transcription services at the time, like Thesaurus, Standard, or MacGregor. The Associated recordings all sound like they were made in a huge studio space, with lots of reverb, and plenty of sonic space around the instruments; they’re incredibly “live,” as an engineer might say.  When you listen to the Associated recordings of, say, the John Kirby Sextet, Teddy Wilson, the Ray Noble Orchestra, or that rather amazing 1934 Joe Venuti big band date (with Louis Prima and Red Norvo), just to name a couple, there’s a very specific kind of a disconnect happening. You don’t quite feel like you’re listening to historical recordings from 80 years ago, but you know they’re not newly-recorded either. They seem to exist in a unique space all their own, one that’s completely timeless.

  That’s the same way that this album landed upon my ears: it doesn’t quite feel like any kind of a recreation, rather it seems like some contemporary scientist who specializes in both sound recording and astrophysics found a way to send a microphone drone into the past and make new recordings of historical big bands.  I had a similar sensation when I watched the 2013 re-release of The Wizard of Oz, in which the classic 1939 film was re-jigged somehow for two 21st century movie technologies, digital 3D and IMAX.  (I’ve also heard the original soundtrack adapted for 5.1 surround sound on DVD.) The 3D IMAX Oz was fascinating and highly illuminating.  Naturally, going forward, I would still want to re-watch The Wizard of Oz in the original 1939 format again - this might have been just a one-off experience - but that it gave me a whole new way to look at a classic.  And that’s what this album does, it allows us hear vintage big band swing in a whole other way, auditorily speaking, and takes classic music and makes us hear it in the audio equivalent of 3D IMAX - it’s a quite a wonderful, unique sensation.

  The combination of the familiar and the unfamiliar is consistently startling, to the point where we can say that the music is being re-imagined rather than re-created.  I keep feeling like some collector friend of mine stumbled across a set of previously undocumented Associated transcriptions recorded in the immediate pre-war period. In some cases, where the tune is very familiar, I feel like these are newly-discovered versions by alternate bands, like “Jive at Five” being played by Charlie Barnet rather than Count Basie, say, or Alvino Rey playing the central guitar part on “Solo Flight” with own his orchestra back around the same time that Charlie Christian and Benny Goodman introduced it.  And this “Well Git It” makes me wonder what that classic flag waver might have sounded like if it came from the band book of Jimmy Dorsey rather than Tommy. Other tracks make me feel like I’m discovering some previously unknown local local or territory band that never made it into the history books or the discographies.

Some of Glenn’s arrangements truly sound like a wrinkle in time: the North American popular song “I Get Ideas” originated in 1927 as an authentic and famous Argentine tango titled “Adios Muchachos.”  In 1951, it was adapted into “I Get Ideas” (with most of the tango rhythm extracted), wherein it became a hit for both Tony Martin and Louis Armstrong. Glenn’s treatment sounds like if some early swing bandleader - say, Alex Hill, or maybe the Mills Blue Rhythm Band - somehow got a hold of the 1951 lyrics (by Dorcas Cochrane of “Again” fame), even though they weren’t written for many years.  There’s more than a hint of Louis Armstrong in Jason Prover’s trumpet solo at the heart of it, but more like Armstrong’s 1930s big band, the one led for him by Luis Russell, rather than the groups he recorded with in the 1950s, and Crytzer’s vocal here is clearly part and parcel of the 1930s idiom.

  And I find myself surprisingly impressed by Glenn’s originals; normally I try to encourage contemporary musicians and singers to avoid the temptation of writing their own original songs if only because the overwhelming majority of them are lousy at it.  (Make that extremely lousy at it!) But Glenn has succeeded in his highly commendable goal of creating new songs that sound like they were written in the late 1930s and recorded by bands of the period (if only on Associated Transcriptions). “Just Like a Broken Record,” for instance, really sounds like something that Larry Clinton would have played in a 1938 Vitaphone short - or on a 1938 buff Bluebird.  (So does “Marche Slav”; I had a hard time believing that was a new arrangement of the iconic 1876 Tchaikovsky piece, not a transcription of Clinton or Les Brown’s Blue Devils or some other historic band that specialized in “swinging the classics.”)

  There are also plenty of surprises in the vocal department: Hannah Gill is a name new me, but a formidable singer who sounds so authentic to the period that I don’t think she would even mind if I referred to her as a “band canary.” (That term has somehow become un-PC in the millennial era, go figure.)  I know Dandy Wellington, as does anyone who has attended any kind of swing-centric event in New York, but mainly as a dancer and an emcee for contemporary retro-burlesque events - in fact, so much so whenever I hear his name and his voice, I expect to see a woman start taking off her clothes. Clearly he’s developed into the most perfectly appropriate male singer for this band on both ballads and novelties (especially “Swing My Soul”).  And Glenn also captures the idiom very well, adding vocalist to the list of many hats (and caps) that he wears, along with bandleader, arranger, conductor, composer, lyricist, and guitarist.

  I’ve possibly made too much of a fuss over the way this music plays with notions of chronological time and not enough about how the music is about time in the sense that it really swings - that Glenn and his bandsmen play with a lift, a drive and a danceable imperative that’s all too rare in the 21st century.  Glenn Crytzer has, in fact, achieved something of a temporal miracle, in assembling 17 musicians and singers who have so perfectly absorbed the classic swing idiom that it’s like a language they can speak without any trace of a foreign accent. Astrophysicists may insist that time travel is impossible, but now I have cause to wonder.

-Will Friedwald

NATIONAL PRESS CAMPAIGN:  JIM EIGO, JAZZ PROMO SERVICES, 272 State Route 94 South #1, Warwick, NY 10990-3363 Ph: 845-986-1677 jim@jazzpromoservices.com • www.jazzpromoservices.com “Specializing in Media Campaigns for the music community, artists, labels, venues and events.” NATIONAL RADIO PROMOTION: LISA REEDY PROMOTIONS www.jazzpromotion.com 775-826-0755 lisa@jazzpromotion.com

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[mrmedia]

1298 Billy Idol, rock star, "White Wedding," "Rebel Yell"

Today's Guest: Billy Idol, rock star, "White Wedding," "Rebel Yell"

(I was first introduced to the music of Billy Idol by my then-roommate, photographer Dennis Osborne, in the early 1980s. Dennis would bounce around the house to "Dancin' with Myself" and it was hard to resist the song's infectious beat and lyrics. I recently located the audio to my 1984 Music magazine interview with Billy and present it here in all its amateur glory. -- Bob Andelman)

Billy Idol on the cover of Music magazine (Photograph by Dennis Osborne, (c) 1984 All Rights Reserved.)

With his startling blonde spiked hair and bona-fide punk stance, Billy Idol would be about as acceptable in the Deep South today as the long-haired hero of Charlie Daniels "Uneasy Rider" was a decade ago. But when Idol titled his 
latest album Rebel Yell, he
caused a lot of second looks.
What does a British
renegade noisemaker know
about confederate flags,
'shine or the Mason/Dixon Line?
Not much. The 28-year-old native of Bromley, England was considering a holler of a different kind. Coming off his first big hit, “White Wedding,” Idol was harassed by complaints that he was an anti-woman sexist pig. Rebel Yell started as a response to that stinging allegation and wound up with a lyric touching many themes, including the Statue of Liberty. "I wrote the song to address the people who thought I was anti-women. (But) instead, I wrote it about how strong one-to-one relationships should be angled more towards women. After a while I started to think 'she doesn't like slavery, she won't sit and beg' is sort of about America, because when I was tired and lonely, she pulled me in,” Idol explained in a recent telephone interview.

BILLY IDOL interview excerpt: "The first punk bands, Generation X, The Damned, The Sex Pistols, had really positive attitudes... We went out of our way to play. People never talk about that. They always talk about the violence of the gigs."

"I was really down after Generation X ended," he continued, referring to the early punk band he sang for. "I came over here and people 
were jumping around the 
bars like myself. I didn't
 know (about that), because we'd never been over here. It
 was fantastic. When people
 were into my music, it was
 what I needed to hear. I needed a bit of back-up.” For Idol, finding a successful career in a strange
country has been an unexpected pleasure. Generation
X, whiIe widely acknowledged as one of the more significant of the second generation English punk bands to spring to renown in the late ‘70s, never cracked the American marketplace. Generation X produced three albums during its four-year existence. Idol was lead singer in a group that also included Gene October and Tony James. "We really wanted it to work, be a group forever, but it didn't end up like that. It was a bit of a blow," Idol admitted. "I wrote all the music in
 Generation X and Tony 
James wrote all the words. I
 write a lot more of the words 
now. I'm singing my own
 words a lot more comfortably... I think I put a lot more 
rhythm into my music which
 we didn't always have in
 Generation X. It was a wham! 
bam! but it wasn't always rhythmy."

Billy Idol Greatest Hits. Order your copy today by clicking on the album cover above!

Three years ago, Idol hooked up with collaborator and friend Steve Stevens, a 25·year·old New York native. "I didn't meet him with the intention of wow, maybe I'll get in his band," Stevens recalled. "I just thought he'd be an interesting character...and he turned out to be one. We hung out for a long time, played guitars together. When he went to record the Don't Stop EP, I stayed around and bummed cigarettes." Don't Stop, which included Idol's new version of Generation X's only hit "Dancin' - With Myself," was followed by a self-titled solo album, the first musical work Idol and Stevens did together. This was the record to feature “White Wedding,” the song and video which established Idol’s reputation as more than a curious punk. He demonstrated a strong voice and flair for melodic hooks. On the strength of that album, Don’t Stop was reissued. Then came Rebel Yell and Idol has regularly found himself with a rare three-disc hat trick on the charts. Rebel Yell is also the debut of the Idol/Stevens creative team on all but one song (Idol wrote “Catch My Fall”). "When it came time to do the first album, Billy had a stockpile of songs that he wanted to do, so I wasn't involved," Stevens said. Now, Idol writes the lyrics and Stevens the music, like the intro to "Rebel Yell". I'll write a title now and again, come up with a catch phrase. But Billy’s definitely in control of his own lyrics; he’s waited a long time. I think he’s a brilliant lyricist. Stevens contributed a number of different musical parts to the Rebel Yell LP. Although he sticks to playing guitar on tour, he also did tracks for bass, keyboard and Casio. "A Casio is a real, real low budget keyboard but they sound great, really trashy. The Casio has little drum sounds in them. There's a real tacky organ sound on 'Blue Highway' - really tacky - that's a Casio," Stevens said. Once a member of the Fine Malibus, Stevens went with with that band to record an unreleased album. Where there, he spent a lot of time hanging out with Robert Palmer, from whom contributing Idol keyboardist Jack Walman came. During the pre-Idol days, Stevens also wrote a song for Peter Criss, late of Kiss, which appeared on Criss’s second European album.

BILLY IDOL interview excerpt: "I wrote ('White Wedding') to address the people who thought I was anti-women. (But) instead, I wrote it about how strong one-to-one relationships should be angled more towards women. After a while I started to think 'she doesn't like slavery, she won't sit and beg' is sort of about America, because when I was tired and lonely, she pulled me in."

Although the (Fine Malibus) weren’t an important part of my musical upbringing,” Stevens said, “that time of my life was great. It was great. It was the first time I ever lived out on my own, exposed to New York music's dirtier side, really slumming it. We had to save up to buy chicken pot pies. It was rough, but I think those kinds of things are important to go through.” Idol went through his own rites of passage in the punk upheaval of 1977-80. As the rare musician who still openly and defiantly declares himself to be a punker, he said there are misguided ideas in this country about what that means. There’s all these ideas that punks are anti-music—always got a negative attitude . I don't think that's correct. The first punk bands—Generation X, The Damned,
Sex Pistols—had really positive attitudes and were very forthcoming with people. We went out of our way to play. People never talk about that. They always talk about the violence at the gigs. We played for no money and dragged our own gear. That isn’t because you want loads of people to love you—it’s because you’re seriously interested in playing. "To a certain extent, a lot of the press in England magnified a lot of things which came over to America. A lot of people who came after us took it seriously and went into this anti-music thing, whereas we were really into songs and soul music. We were just heavy about it (but) as interested in The Who and Tamla-Motown as Iggy Pop,” Idol concluded. "A lot of punk rockers think Elvis wasn’t punk rock and I think that’s anti- the whole idea,” he added. “Of course it was ‘Hate Elvis’ in ’77. Why not? But big deal now. He was kind of a laugh—that graveyard, I couldn’t believe it.” Idol is a big Presley fan. He uses one of the King's former bodyguards, Ed Parker, and refers to Elvis as
 "great, he had all that energy, so exciting, great songs. He really had a kind of soul.” The only time during this conversation that Idol paused before answering was when asked if he would ever consider covering a Presley hit. "It's a nice idea. But ...he sang too great. I never thought of it. He made the definitive versions ... Maybe, if I found one song I really felt I could do something with. That’s the problem: you’ve got to transcend what they did.” With financial success and broader public acceptance approaching, Idol doubted his outlook on punkhood will be altered. "I've got certain beliefs," he said. "I've been up and down, and I still believe this way. It's what you do with your attitude. Otherwise, you'll be an ass with your money. You have to find a way of using that stuff and making it better for other people.” Idol designs most of his own costumes and wears leather clothes because they are warm, comfortable and don't show as much dirt. "England and New York are very cold in the winter and when we started Genera­ tion X, without any money, the best thing to do was save up some money and get a great pair of leather trousers. You can almost live in them—lasts for years," he claimed. And while Idol also said, with reference to his stage outfits, "I don't think these things out much,” it has been a valuable experience to be rejected by some people at first on the basis of his appearance and later gain acceptance for his music. "Both me and these other people have come to terms with each other as to what we are. I think that's good. It means a lot of prejudice has been put aside. I want to show people that I wasn't a coldhearted person. I'm into sex, movement, into feeling things out. I want to groove, y'know?" And, as Idol also pointed out, "I've got to be me. I think this way of looking is as fun­ny as it is heavy."

Billy Idol Website • Facebook • Twitter • Instagram • YouTube • Wikipedia • IMDB • MySpace • Google+ • Goodreads

Steve Stevens Facebook • Instagram • MySpace • Wikipedia • TuneIn • IMDB

  Kicking Through the Ashes: My Life As A Stand-up in the 1980s Comedy Boom by Ritch Shydner. Order your copy today by clicking on the book cover above!

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