#like obviously the vocal ranges and orchestrations have to make sense

[freddieandersen]

thanks to that post I’m now playing all my hozier lps at 45rpm and some of the songs gain new dimensions when you can imagine Dolly in them

[thesinglesjukebox]

BEYONCÉ - "16 CARRIAGES"

You guessed it! (...did you?) It's B'Day! Let's end it off strong...

[7.44]

Daniel Montesinos-Donaghy: An exponentially stronger B-side to the paint-by-numbers honky-tonk of "Texas Hold 'Em," "16 Carriages" is reminiscent of the widescreen ballads that Beyoncé hasn’t made in some time. There have been slow songs and Quiet Storm tributes, but few all-ages Bold Metaphor jams to flick your lighters up to. Usually, this isn’t my favourite of Knowles’ modes (give it up for a day-one "Halo" sceptic), but the frayed-family narrative and arena-size swell are moving. Compared to "Break My Soul" and its eye-rolling lyrics about quitting dead-end jobs, "16 Carriages" doesn’t make me balk at one of the world’s richest women singing about being “underpaid and overwhelmed." In its earnest hugeness, you can feel the artist reach for the mythic, or a theatrical archetype at the least. It’s strong character work. [7]

Rachel Saywitz: After an album bereft of slow-churning, sob-inducing ballads, it’s very satisfying to hear Beyoncé back in her element with “16 Carriages.” There’s a gorgeous tension to it, a slow buildup rich with narrative interiors—regardless of whether the track is pulled directly from Beyoncé’s life, its story shows in blistered verses frantic with stormy memories and repeated affirmations. I can sense, in her melodies and vocal runs, that there’s a rush to race ahead of the track’s patient lap steel and slow percussion thumps. Her voice grows in power so gradually that when the anticipation finally reaches its peak in that final chorus, it’s hard to feel relief. I want to keep living in the epic fantasy of the song’s tale, where strife is rewarded and fear begets a legacy.  [9]

Hannah Jocelyn: "16 Carriages" is billed as country, but it reminds me more of maximalist chamber pop like Perfume Genius’ No Shape with its drastic dynamic shifts and off-kilter orchestration. Beyoncé’s performance is virtuosic in its relative restraint, letting the crashing horns and strings do the heavy lifting. (Good singing =/= belting everything!) She recasts her history as an underdog story and sells it -- and for what it's worth, getting famous at an early age actually sounds pretty traumatizing! The oddly lo-fi production grounds the narrative. This obviously isn't a truly unpolished Beyoncé -- this is more self-mythologizing -- but it's great storytelling and worldbuilding. "Carriages" can't be narrowed down, always eluding any easy genre tag or even any easy answers in the lyrics. It's been a while since a pop star released something this weird, and even longer since they pulled it off. [10]

Jeffrey Brister: This one feels more in line with my expectations. "16 Carriages" isn't perfect—it has a repetitive melody, doesn't do nearly enough with the bluesy vocal, and feels a lot longer than its 3:53—but there’s enough to make it a distinctively country song. It also makes some smart choices with arrangements and productions -- the slight crunch and airy decay on the drums giving it an off-kilter feel, smartly knowing when to crash into climaxes and pull away to the spare beauty that shows off Bey’s voice. [7]

Dorian Sinclair: Releasing “Texas Hold ‘Em” and “16 Carriages” simultaneously was smart. Where the former is gleefully cluttered, “16 Carriages” is stripped-back and stately, letting the lead vocal line carry the track almost entirely on its own. It’s a risky gambit; the melody is repetitive, and without a commanding performance the song could easily feel stagnant. But we know Beyoncé can deliver a commanding performance, and she does so here, with a precise understanding of how to execute on all those little flutters, and how to make the moments when the melody does break out of its limited range and climb a little higher really feel exciting. It all works right up until the last 45 seconds or so — introducing a new melodic idea so late in the song makes the whole thing feel kind of formless and unstructured and the ending feel notably untidy. This might make more sense on the album, but for now it’s unresolved. [7]

Aaron Bergstrom: It's been almost fifteen years since 30 Rock taught us that "going country" is a totally legitimate career move, and yet I confess that abrupt genre-hopping still makes me question an artist's motives. It's easy to see the commercial justification for Beyoncé finding new worlds to conquer, and I do love that a Black woman succeeding in country music makes some of the worst people in the world tie themselves in knots trying to explain why they're (a) mad about it but (b) somehow not racist. Still, if all we're doing is running it back with banjo instead of house piano, then I can't say I'm all that invested. Luckily, "16 Carriages" shows that there's also an artistic justification: country music can be such a compelling medium for storytelling. This is a song that needs to shake off the dust before it gets going, a song that needs to unfurl itself, unhurried in its presentation. It evokes weatherbeaten grandeur and the way that an unbroken horizon can signify both freedom and isolation, both possibility and emptiness. It drags in places and never reaches a real emotional climax, both of which could be seen as purposeful artistic choices. But ultimately it's undaunted, or at least as undaunted as you can be when it feels like your dreams are escaping.  [7]

TA Inskeep: First of all, this ain't country just because it has some acoustic finger picking in it. This sounds more Lumineers-core to my ears, especially the way it gets stompy as the arrangement gets bigger and swells with strings near its end. The lyric could be more effective with better music and a less sweet vocal. Maybe bring it back for that purported "rock" album and let Jack White go loose, encourage Beyoncé to go full Tina Turner -- that'd work. [5]

Brad Shoup: Genius is calling this a "classic country anthem," which may be true if your classic country stops at "An American Trilogy". When the symphony blares down the steel, it feels like the song taking its true intended form. She's going asking it to hold up so much, so quickly: origin story and present-day triumph and private burdens. That may be the most classic country thing about it, actually. [6]

Taylor Alatorre: "16 Carriages" is a songwriting case study in the power of selective ambiguity. Why carriages, and why 16 of them, when Beyoncé gives 15 as the age by which her innocence had "gone astray"? Part of it could be the centrality of the "sweet sixteen" in American girlhood, but that hardly seems like the whole story, especially when the song is bent on depicting the precise opposite of a normal American adolescence. The subsequent use of "umpteen," an ungainly word that Beyoncé seems to roll her eyes through, confirms that this is not about a specific moment of lost innocence but a larger, hazier sense of loss that weaves its way through the cracks in one's life, lying dormant and then springing back up at unexpected moments. A long train of carriages riding off into the sunset is a dream image, some mirage-like melding of Wild West and rock 'n' roll mythology that hits at something primal and almost beyond naming. The passing of childhood, yes, but more specifically the closing off of a universe of choices that were once available to us and no longer are. This being a Beyoncé single, the mourning is laced with the requisite triumphalism, but this doesn't negate the message that every worldly gain is built upon worldly loss but strengthens it. Those bone-rattling surges of guitar and percussion, at once funereal and propulsive, provide the ideal frame for this balancing act, jolting us back and forth between reality and the reverie. We never find out exactly what dreams are being carried away by the carriages, but that's fine -- all the better to universalize this inherently exceptional case of the self-sacrificing celebrity. [8]

Jackie Powell: Ever since Beyoncé released “Formation” and subsequently Lemonade, a common criticism emerged about what her brand stands for, and a question was posed: can she currently relate to the stories about being a Black person in America? Ernest Owens’ column from eight years ago makes points that remain relevant. “Just know that Beyoncé is making bank off of a variation of blackness that she isn't currently living in or experiencing,” he wrote. With Renaissance, released six years later, there were questions about how Beyoncé could earnestly lean into the plight and earn profit from the Black queer folks that Renaissance pays tribute to. And with “16 Carriages,” a track written like a modern day “work song,” how does that factor into that discourse? Putting it simply, Beyoncé has struggled with being relatable, but “16 Carriages” challenges that. What was her life like before the millions of dollars and even before Destiny’s Child? I didn’t really know until now. She writes of sacrifice, something that is a part of everyday life for all. And she also writes of the struggles that people who choose a life of creative work are accustomed to. “Goin' so hard, gotta choose myself/Underpaid and overwhelmed.” That’s so real. “Sixteen dollars, workin' all day/Ain't got time to waste, I got art to make.” That’s also so real. “16 Carriages” is written like a poem in couplets, with Beyoncé placing accents after each clause or phrase. The most important words that she wants you to take away are what she accents. It’s intentional, just like a lot of the recent Beyoncé story. Could this be Beyoncé’s “Jenny from the Block?” It might be, but it’s a bit more sincere and much less silly. Beyoncé knows she’s not that professional teenager anymore. [8]

Nortey Dowuona: Atia Boggs once wrote the hook "oh, I don't recall, all the tears of them all, the children of men, children of men." She also wrote: "baby, I might let you go, baby, baby no matter what, and like I switch the other side of me, baby gotta lotta ride on me." She has been writing songs that take all sorts of shapes, but she is credited on this song, and those two feel close to it. The first is a Trae the Truth record where he and J. Cole tell sad stories of young black men being sucked into the prison system, and the hook memorializes their lives. The second is a trippy Childish Gambino acid trip with a girl with a cat who looks at him sideways and has a little ride on her -- which Boggs sings about before her words are once again cut up and scattered to the winds. "It's been umpteen summers, and I'm not in my bed, on the back of the bus in a bunk with the band." I figure that a longtime songwriter like Boggs and Beyoncé Giselle Knowles-Carter can both resonate with this lyric: both of them have lost umpteen summers to the reality of being musicians, and both are still in the chase and still have dreams left to achieve, still remember the dulling ache of being young and chasing and fearing not keeping up with the elders who are ahead. "It's been 38 summers, and I'm not in my bed, on the back of the bus on a bunk with the band." Now they are the elders, the ones the younger singers and songwriters are keeping pace with, seeing the road begin to shorten, time running out. "Going so hard, now I miss my kids, overworked and overwhelmed." It's easy to forget that both Boggs and Beyoncé are human beings, especially when one is a longtime songwriting veteran with dozens of credits and one is the most revered people in black music -- in music, period, which is why you make songs like this. Not everyone is free to sincerely indulge, but everyone is free to grieve the shortening of the runway, afraid of running and coming up short, losing time with your children, wondering whether the overwhelming grind will actually end. For Ms Knowles Carter, hopefully soon. For Mx Boggs, the future is far more uncertain. [10]

Katherine St. Asaph: Authenticity arguments are generally boring. But I would be lying if I claimed it didn't lend some gravitas to "16 Carriages" that Beyoncé wrote it with a songwriter for Renaissance and not a songwriter for Fletcher. The song is a showcase of vocal interpretation -- which it has to be, because it's essentially one short melody -- and genuinely strange, a power ballad that Beyoncé's verses keep prodding and dodging until it sounds less inspirational than destabilized. More than anything she's released in a while, this reminds me of 4, a sadly-but-unsurprisingly underrated casualty of the album it preceded. [8]

Ian Mathers: Much more so than "Texas Hold 'Em," this feels like one of the high-drama Lemonade or Beyoncé tracks transposed to a more country backing -- not in a bad way, if anything in the "this is a real song because it works even if you do it real stripped down" sense. (Not that this is particularly stripped down; the bombast really works for me, actually.) The fit isn't quite as smooth as "Texas Hold 'Em," but that just means that one feels like an all-timer while this just feels strong. I suspect it'll work great on the album -- sequencing being yet another thing Beyoncé is generally great at. [8]

Will Adams: The "country" designation for "16 Carriages" doesn't really connect with me. Rather, the song stands as the ideal version of what Beyoncé was going for with the adult contemporary half of I Am... Sasha Fierce that ended up quite bland. With heaps more production value and maturity, she's finally sold it. [7]

Isabel Cole: I thought it was the melody that I didn’t quite like, but then I couldn’t get it out of my head for a week, and found I didn’t mind it there. The plodding beat makes sense conceptually -- evoking the drag of horses’ hooves, or perhaps the crack of a whip driving them on as they pull -- but it’s a little grating. The way the arrangement veers between sparseness and bombast feels like the song can’t make up its mind about whether it’s a vulnerable confession or a statement of pride. And, again, that’s the point, I know; and, again, it just doesn’t land for me. [5]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Bombast can in its own right become a virtue – if this were any smaller of a song I'd note the flaws in its construction more closely, spend more time trying to piece together where the core metaphor goes. In practice, "16 Carriages" leaves me with no time or resistance to consider such petty concerns; in every giant, resounding organ chord and wail of the steel guitar I am simply awed, bearing witness to Beyoncé at her most ideal form, a force of grace and power embodied. [8]

Michael Hong: Authenticity is wholly unimportant when it's this well-acted. With every shaky line reading and teetering run, she evokes the rickety journey of a carriage, bumping through the clunk of the guitar. It doesn't matter whether the lyrics are true to Beyoncé or any of the songwriters; you hear the lift when she looks upward.  [7]

Leah Isobel: I wonder whether the Renaissance project is about refraction - funneling Beyoncé's mythmaking through different genre prisms, seeing what aspects of her art and her life story are emphasized in each new mode. "16 Carriages" suggests as much. The Act 1 material felt like she had time-warped back into her youth, its energy libidinous and present-focused, its references rooted in the various forms of dance-pop that carried the early stages of her mainstream crossover. (Like, there are two Beyoncé songs that sample Donna Summer: one off Dangerously in Love, and one off Renaissance. Seems like a purposeful choice!) Here, though, her mode is more reflective, more "adult." The previous record's shifts in tempo and syncopation could evoke the time-shifting qualities of a great dancefloor, the way that the past and present and future blur into meaninglessness, but "16 Carriages" delineates clearly between what has passed and what is to come. Its instrumentation is built on harsh, regimented blasts of instrumentation that corral her vocal into measured units: you can hear her pacing out exactly how much melody she can fit in between each beat. It's like the ticking of a clock, or a step forward into the future. But it feels limited, somehow, by that regimentation. "For legacy/ If it's the last thing I do/ You'll remember me," she sings on the bridge, as if it's a self-evident value. Perhaps it's a peek inside what it takes to be an unbelievably famous and successful superstar after nearly 30 years: you cannot ever let yourself run out of steps forward. There is only the body and the road, pushing forward. I just wonder what it might sound like if she stopped. [7]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

[appears]

There are only a handful of albums that I can say actually changed my life, and X Japan's Jealousy is one of them. Knowing the band only here and there from things I had read online, specifically their contribution to the X anime with the song "Forever Love," and a few other ballads, I hesitated when I found this CD in the Import section of the ancient architectures of a now long-dead record store  called The Crow’s Nest, just off of what was then the Library-State/Van Buren stop in Chicago (which I think has since become more shops and dormitory housing). Being only in grade school, I was embarrassed to be seen buying something with such graphic cover art, and the price tag was definitely painful ($38 is a lot for a CD today, but it was criminal twenty years ago -- imagine going to Target and paying $60 for Olivia Rodrigo’s SOUR), but too curious to pass it up, I anxiously forked over all of my birthday money and prayed for the best.

It took me a while to get into it -- I didn't hate it, but it wasn’t what I was expecting, which was more ballads, and a different kind of hard rock than the music found on an album released at the tail-end of X Japan’s early speed-metal era. By the time this album was released, X Japan (nee X) was hugely popular, and each member was practically an institution in himself. Each brought his personality to the album, imbuing the songs with tell-tale personalities, a concept that still worked here, though it would prove to be the band's undoing as it became obvious that they were all going in very different directions. Yoshiki's presence is obviously the largest, looming over the prominent placement of the drums in the sound mix on the album's opening track, and all of the cascading pianos and orchestral moments throughout the others. The second largest would be hide's, who was already proving that his talent and ambition were too large to be contained by Yoshiki's tight and singular vision. Listening now, hide's songs like "Miscast" and "Joker" seem obvious, containing all the tongue-in-cheek wit, playfulness, and signature key changes that would pop up in his solo work. Pata and hide both get nice little solos on here, though the bassist would have to wait until DAHLIA to get his (which, practically out of spite, would be Heath's shining moment, not Taiji's). Then there is Toshi's sharp, soaring vocals, thin, but incredibly mighty. He might not be the most technical singer, often choosing volume over range, but it’s hard to imagine any other person belting these out with such serious enthusiasm. Finally, there is the album's obligatory closing ballad, "Say Anything," that guides the album to a slow, overwhelmingly sentimental, but beautiful finish.

It's an album in many different places, offering a nearly non-stop parade of skill, talent, and genre, which eventually worked its magic on me. The individualism of each track stands out the most here now, each song a unit and showcase for its creator, with each member seemingly chipping in to help the other bring his vision to life, but it also makes sense why the group didn't last beyond one more studio album after this.

It's hard to judge an album that has so much personal history attached to it, so I'm not sure if this is the greatest X Japan album, or if it just feels that way because it was the most important to me. I haven't listened to their other albums in a while, but I'm aware that songs off of DAHLIA are still very much playable and current, while the production on this one, released 30 years ago in 1991, does date it a bit. It's kind of the in-between album, sitting there as a transition between very straight-up rough and loud albums like 89's Blue Blood and 96's DAHLIA's incorporation of more grunge and standard hard rock. To me, aside from that boring bit in the middle with Pata's song and "Voiceless Screaming," it is nearly perfect.

I purchased this CD years and years ago, in the fall of 2000. This album has since been remastered and re-released, and I'm sure it sounds better than this original one. This is the very first non-anime Japanese album I ever bought, in fact, the very first I bought in a physical store, and led me to hide’s solo work and then T.M.Revolution and then Ayumi Hamasaki and so on and so on. Thinking back now, it's perfectly incredible that I happened to come across this CD, especially considering its age when I bought it. Even then, most of the CDs in the Import section were newer releases, like the Pizzicato Five, PUFFY, Ayumi, and Hikaru Utada CDs I would see at Virgin. It's pretty crazy to think of all of the music I would have missed out on if I hadn't found this CD, and been compelled to try my luck and buy it, or even just how much longer it might have taken me to get there. As a little-known musician once said, Music is enough for a lifetime, but a lifetime is not enough for music -- as it turned out, the earlier, so much the better, for me.

[betweenthetimeandsound]

Three Minutes to Eternity: My ESC 250 (#210-201)

#210: Joy Fleming -- Ein Lied Kann Eine Brücke Sein (Germany 1975)

“Hör auf zu spielen und lerne zu fühlen, Wie viele Menschen Freunde sind, Lerne zu singen, vertraue so wie ein Kind,”

“Stop playing and learn how to feel, How many people are friends Learn how to sing, trust just like a child”

For an older and low-placed entry, this German entry has become a fan favorite! Despite this, I wonder if I really like this enough to make my top three of 1975, because I don't go back to listen to it often.

But when I do, it just takes the conductor's stomping to get me into the mood. It's just a great way to start a song~

While the chorus somehow bugs me a little bit, because of how jarring it is (Joy shouts it all out, in comparison to the verses where she has a somewhat lower register), how it builds really helps with getting the party started. The orchestration also helps with the joie de vivre of the song, and Joy manages to live up to her name on stage.

Personal ranking: =3rd/19 Actual ranking: 17th(?!)/19 in Stockholm

#209: Muriel Day -- The Wages of Love (Ireland 1969)

“There will be bridges to be crossed And there'll be teardrops to be lost...”

Ireland’s first upbeat song is a diversion from their first four entries in more ways than one. Not only it’s performed by a woman for the first time, but it also warns about the pains of love—while it’s a great experience, you have to pay a lot in the process. (This actually reminds me of one vintage Eurovision blogger talking about how Horoscopes incorporates a more liberal sound with Ireland's conservatism at the time--maybe it was from the same lines?)

And Muriel has an absolute ball on stage with her uber-high lime green dress. She twirls her microphone around when arriving, bounces up and down like she just got a can of Red Bull, and dances as if it was for the last time. The orchestration really helps out on giving out this vivacious vibe (though the lyric "it can make you live/it can make you die" in context is quite horrifying behind the upbeat track).

Basically, this was an upbeat track which I would've switched out for one of the upbeat winners.

Personal ranking: 3rd/16 (though here, it's 4th/16. A mismatch in rankings, which you can see again in the future) Actual ranking: 7th/16 in Madrid

#208: Alenka Gotar -- Cvet z Juga (Slovenia 2007)

"Moj beli cvet, moj daljni svet Daj, vrni se, moj bodi spet”

“My white flower, my faraway world Come, return, be mine again”

I've never been a big fan of opera--not just in Eurovision, but also in general. I recognize they have beautiful voices and worked on them for the performance, but I never really like the instrumental or the actual song.

Cvet z juga, however, managed to incorporate opera in a way which is actually enjoyable. Not only because of Alenka’s powerful vocals, but also the nostalgia created with the poetic lyrics and the instrumental. It’s a combination of classical and modern--it's not a dance-floor bop (despite the percussion in the background), but it's definitely out of the ordinary.

Combined with a subtle but effective gimmick (Alenka's light-up hand at the end), and you have Slovenia's first qualifier in the semi-final. Definitely deserved.

Unfortunately, Alenka's gone off a bad path since then...)

Personal ranking: 6th/42 Actual ranking: 15th/24 GF in Helsinki

#207: Giorgios Alkaios and Friends -- Opa! (Greece 2010)

"Έκαψα το χθες, νύχτες μου παλιές Κι από το μηδέν αρχίζω όσο κι αν δε θες Δάκρυα καυτά ψέμματα πολλά Πλήρωσα όσο χρωστούσα και τα δανεικά"

"I burnt the past, my old nights And I start from scratch even if you don’t want me to Hot tears, too many lies I paid what I owed and borrowed"

"Motherf---ing testosterone!"

The Scandinavia and the World recap for the 2010 contest basically sums up Opa! as this, with all the tribal cries and torn up shirts. I've also heard it described as the "Love Love Peace Peace" of Greek entries, with the prevalent cry "Opa!", strong ethnic influences, and Cretean lyre to boot.

But beyond that, there's a deeper meaning behind the lyrics. By late 2009-early 2010, Greece was facing the burden's of the Great Recession, which would envelop the country in many years. Their GDP would drop by 26% between 2008 and 2014, and unemployment rose up to 25% at the same time. This economic maelstrom led to public uprisings and an exodus of the highly educated.

Opa is a cry for joy--not just to party, but also to fight against a wave of despair considering the circumstances. It strives to give life and inspiration by those who need it, even if it means starting over. And while economics will trump national pride in the end, one asserts themselves as stronger than they think. And that's what makes it an important part of the Greek Golden Age at Eurovision.

Personal ranking: 6th/39 Actual ranking: 8th/25 (GF) in Oslo

#206: Boris Novkovic feat. Lado -- Vukovi Umiru Sami (Croatia 2005)

"Do zore je ostao još koji sat A vani nemir, k’o da je rat Oblačim kaput i odlazim Da sve zaboravim"

"Only a few hours left till dawn And outside unrest, as if a war is on I put my coat on and leave To forget everything"

Balkan ballads are one of the main joys out of Eurovision; obviously from that region, they feature folk instrumentation and sad lyrics about love. Vukovi umiru sami fits into this mold well, but I only managed to put this in tenth place because of the variety of songs on offer, ranging from glam rock to a wholesome peace ballad.

Over time, however, it has grown on me.

The poetic lyrics stood out the most for me--they tell of an end of a relationship on the Danube (which really grounds the song in its origins, despite the fact I associate it with Central European countries as a whole) and the loneliness of the man in it. There's a mournful nature about it, especially with the choir in the background.

And the way it build is so fantastic, amplifying the story and the stakes. The "Dunavoms" between the last two choruses are well-done and elevate this song to greatness.

I planned to rewatch 2005 to see how my rankings change, and thought it would get to be in my top five. Because of a typo on my list, I needed another song to fit the overall order of the list.

And finally, Vukovi umiru sami is in my top five. :)

Personal ranking: 5th/39 Actual ranking: 11th/24 GF in Kyiv

#205: Marlayne -- One Good Reason (the Netherlands 1999)

“Give me one good reason and I will give you two Say: "I love you forever", say you will, say you do...”

The guitar intro made me think this would be a song I would listen to outside of Eurovision. It reminded me of Michelle Branch’s songs in the early 2000s (of which, Breathe is my current all-time favorite song); her debut album, The Spirit Room, would only be released in 2001!

Alternatively, it has a very country-pop vibe, but it still has a sense of optimism which continues through the entire song. I love how sunny and earnest it is, and it got a really solid result out of it! Unfortunately, it would be the Netherlands' best placing until 2013, but at least it was a jolt of quality in a mediocre year.

Personal ranking: 4th/23 Actual ranking: 8th/23 in Jerusalem

#204: Niamh Kavanaugh -- In Your Eyes (Ireland 1993)

“Love's been building bridges between your heart and mine I'm safe here on my island, but I'm out on the edge this time”

One of the most nail-biting votes in Eurovision came in this particular contest: because Malta's phone connection malfunctioned, they had to wait until the end to give their points. At that point, Ireland was 11 points ahead, which means if Malta gave the runner-up their twelve, the latter would win by one point.

The Maltese jury ended up giving Ireland their twelve, which would give Ireland their second consecutive win in the 1990s, along with a point record which would only last a year.

I’ve never felt the vulnerability of falling in love, but I love the narrative arc in the lyrics, which crescendos with the chorus. Niamh’s voice is a bit harsh at times, but delivers on it with a stately grace in a choice suit.

What also seals In Your Eyes for me was the graceful orchestration thanks to Noel Kelehan. It's especially prevalent in the chorus--the studio cut doesn't do it justice...

Personal ranking: =6th/25 Actual ranking: 1st/25 in Millstreet

#203: Sonia -- Better the Devil You Know (United Kingdom 1993)

“I'll give you my heart and my soul if you give me your love..”

...not unlike with the song Ireland was competing with for the win! While the studio cut is decent enough, Better the Devil You Know wouldn't have gotten so close to victory without the live music aspect of it.

It’s not only the orchestration here, but also Sonia’s fun performance and her cute moves. The track is reminiscent of SAW, but it feels like being at a sock hop in a diner and dancing the night away. The backing vocalists do a good job too; I like how they harmonize the in the chorus .

That all being said, would've this made a better winner? It's hard to tell--it would've been more upbeat than most of the 1990s other winners, but In Your Eyes has aged quite well. And I have several other favorites, so I'm not the best one to comment on it.

Personal ranking: =6th/25 Actual ranking: 2nd/25 in Millstreet

#202: Serebro -- Song #1 (Russia 2007)

“Gotta tease you, nasty guy So take it, don't be shy Put your cherry on my cake And taste my cherry pie”

Unfortunately, song #1 neither placed on top of the 2007 class, nor was it the first song performed that year So, in more than one case, Song #1 is a misnomer.

Nor are they particularly unique amongst bands--Serebro has some similarities to tATu in 2003, in that they are a girl group with a sensual aesthetic. But while tATu's Eurovision entry is more dark, Serebro's has more attitude and edge.

Such saucy lyrics are what makes Song #1 such a total jam, albeit one the fandom overlooks. The dark production increases the attitude of this song, and I love the girls’ stage presence too! Especially those costumes (again, going back to the tATu comparisons, in that they were best known for their school uniforms, hehe); they never fail in adding some sexiness to the performance.

Personal ranking: 5th/42 Actual ranking: 3rd/24 GF in Helsinki

#201: Severina -- Moja stikla (Croatia 2006)

“Zvrc, zvrc, tražit ćeš moj broj, Kuc, kuc, kucaj nekoj drugoj, Jer još trava nije nikla, Tamo gdje je stala moja štikla!”

"Ring, ring, you'll search for my number, Knock, knock, go knocking somewhere else, For the grass has not yet sprouted, Where my high heel has stepped!”

There’s a lot of silly lyrics in Moja Stikla. From mentioning “sex” to “Afrika Paprika”, it’s easy to suggest that this is nonsensical. I’m reading over the lyrics again myself, and they tell quite a different story—of a woman who just wants men to stop hitting on her.

Even now, I'm still confused on how Zumba and African paprika make sense in avoiding men. Or high heels.

But it all doesn't matter when the music starts. Severina's backing vocalists add to the performances, with their solid harmonies and fun presence. Combined with Severina’s own high energy, it’s a good example of turbo folk (even though there was a bit of controversy about whether it actually sounds like Croatian music), and it’s all kinds of fun!

Personal ranking: 4th/37 Actual ranking: =12th/24 GF in Athens

[bananaofswifts]

Released with little fanfare this move to more muted songwriting is proof Swift’s music can thrive without the celebrity drama

Taylor Swift announced the existence of her eighth album an uncharacteristic 17 hours prior to its release: “Most of the things I had planned this summer didn’t end up happening,” she said – among them, a headline slot at Glastonbury – “But there is something I hadn’t planned on that DID happen.” Swift only released her last album, Lover, last August. If she was surprised to have emerged from lockdown with Folklore – a 16-track album largely produced (remotely) by the National’s Aaron Dessner – her fans were even more stunned by the fact that Swift would release a record with zero fanfare.

Swift pioneered the art of the all-consuming album rollout. It usually starts with her sharing coded hints that her well trained fans understand immediately. Then there are teasers for lyric videos that beget actual blockbuster videos, strewn with self-mythologising references for Swifties and journalists to unpick. It’s a smart promotional strategy-by-proxy for an artist who has done little press in the past five years, and a good way of making your actions seem as if they were written in the stars. There are sometimes baffling brand endorsements. The often unpopular lead single seldom sounds like the rest of the album. By the time that arrives, a weariness has descended: the sense that one of pop’s all-time greatest songwriters is overcompensating despite her clear talent.

Recent albums, too, have been consumed with the various dramas that have plagued her since the country ingenue became a pop superstar with 2012’s Red. Despite the last 12 months bringing a new, high-profile disagreement with her former label and enduring disputes with Kanye West, thankfully Folklore features none of that, beyond inadvertently arriving the same day as West said he was releasing a new album. Moreover, Swift conveys the sense that her tendency to desire the last word, in public and private, has been her undoing: “I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere / Fell behind all my classmates and I ended up here,” she sings on This Is Me Trying.

Folklore proves that she can thrive away from the noise: if you interpret “classmates” as pop peers, Swift is no longer competing. Bombastic pop makes way for more muted songwriting, and a singular vision compared to the joyful but spread-betting Lover. With concerts off the table for the foreseeable future, no longer needing to reach four sides of a stadium may have proven liberating.

Elements of her fanbase have long wanted her to revisit the Nashville songcraft of her youth through an adult lens, but this isn’t that album. Folklore is largely built around the soft cascades of piano, burbling guitar and fractured, glitchy electronica that will be familiar to fans of the National’s post-2010 output – at least part of the album came about from Swift writing to Dessner’s musical sketches. Swift’s most coherent record since her staunchly country days, it’s nonetheless her most experimental, developing on Lover’s stranger, more minimalist end. More than one song evokes the intimate celestial tenderness of Sufjan Stevens circa Carrie and Lowell. At the opposite end of the scale, This Is Me Trying subtly grows into its wracked orchestral grandeur, sounding more unsettling still for how Swift’s voice, processed at a ghostly, vast remove, seems to encompass the whole song with her desperation.

Swift is known for her vocal directness – there is no pop star as adroit at searing a chorus into your brain, or as winking in her tartness – if not her range. But the demands of pop processing mean her voice has never been heard as it is here: the acceptance that colours it on The 1, a bouncy reminiscence of a lost lover from her “roaring twenties”; how weatherworn yet at peace she sounds as she remembers the good parts of a treacherous relationship on Cardigan, a song as cavernous and shimmering as a rock pool in a cave. Her vocal trademarks remain in the yo-yoing vocal yelps on August, and the climactic, processed cri de coeur of My Tears Ricochet, and she holds her own against the wounded bark of Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon on Exile, which paints a split first in scenes of overt betrayal, and then gorgeous, subtle harmonies at crossed purposes indicating a problem deeper than one infidelity.

Given the more earthy production, some will characterise Folklore as showing a more authentic side of Swift. Not only would that be facile, asserting some authentic self is also explicitly not her aim. In a brief essay included in the liner notes, she says of the album’s concept: “The lines between fantasy and reality blur and the boundaries between truth and fiction become almost indiscernible.” She writes that some songs are about her and others are about invented characters. More interesting than parsing which is which (many are obviously both) is the sense that Swift is interrogating her own self-conception and challenging that personal mythology: how helpful and true those ideas are to herself as a woman of 30.

Swift’s longest lyrical obsession is the loss of innocence, a theme she makes fairly devastating here. Set to high piano flurries, Seven switches between hopscotch-rhyme verses about childhood rituals, and pleading, choral depictions of herself at seven, “in the weeds, before I learned civility,” she sings. “I used to scream ferociously / Any time I wanted.” What conditioning beat out of her as a girl, it beat back in decades later: the tense, slippery Mad Woman traces the self-perpetuating cycle of women being angered by being labelled angry – both massively improve on Lover’s slightly facile gender inequality treatise, The Man, because they’re personal, not projections. Later she recalls naive young love, “back when we were still changing for the better”, then, on Illicit Affairs, willingly entering into a deceitful relationship with someone who “showed me colours you know I can’t see with anyone else”.

The self-awareness that Swift displayed on Lover deepens in Folklore, where she subtly considers the murky line between corruption and complicity, between being a victim and a catalyst. The recriminations are fewer, the fights fairer, and her sense of responsibility in them greater. The seismic shocks of her Reputation-era rude awakening about her public image are still felt: “I can change everything about me to fit in,” she sings on Mirrorball, a gorgeous pedal steel wooze made with Jack Antonoff. Yet she tentatively asserts what’s at her core: the deep dedication she sings about on the resonant, minimalist Peace, and the abiding romanticism of Invisible String.

Lockdown has been a fruitful time for this sort of soul-searching, the absence of much in the way of new memory-formation triggering nostalgic reveries and regrets. This strange summer of arrested development is steadily ending. Folklore will endure long beyond it: as fragmented as Swift is across her eighth album – and much as you hope it doesn’t mark the end of her pop ambitions – her emotional acuity has never been more assured.

[absynthe--minded]

The English School of Mongolia Mini-Review (part 1)

Performance Date Unknown (video uploaded August 7, 2017) Cast Unknown (Uploaded by a Batkhuyag Gansukh)

The opening titles are all in English, with a voiceover in (I think) Mongolian - I’ve never heard Mongolian before so I can’t confirm it but considering this was made in and filmed in Mongolia I think it’s a safe bet. Before we get going we have a few lines from Music of the Night, and then the title in plain serif font against a backdrop of swirling smoke. This is professionally filmed, with the school’s logo in the top corner and well-done titles.

Prologue/Overture: - the auctioneer has a top hat - the set is relatively simple but that serves it well - the curtains open partially to reveal the auction, with the chandelier behind a scrim curtain reading ‘Lot 666’ on it and the actors arranged around it. auctioneer is stage left/house right, with three other people beside him; on the other side are Raoul and Madame Giry and a boy who I think is supposed to be Raoul’s nurse. the whole scene is done in bright light, with elements of blue and purple, and the costumes seem to be at least attempting Victoriana - behind the chandelier are several boxes (they look like instrument cases) - it gives the stage a nice “abandoned” look - this is professionally filmed, with multiple cameras - Raoul’s voice sounds really stilted, kind of stiff - a lot like a typical relatively untrained high schooler. He might be effecting a character voice due to his supposed old age, though? - the chandelier looks nice, and the electrical effects are really neat, though the lights started before the organ did - SPEAKING OF THE ORGAN there is heavy abuse of synth here. Whoever’s playing somehow missed the “pipe organ” key and decided to settle on “church organ/baseball field organ”. The effect is… interesting. - the chandelier just rises into the air and strobes, before going dark so that a scene change can be done - while I understand the necessity of a blackout in high school theater to cover over any errors or problems, I do wish we could have seen the opera house being transformed. - I think this overture is being played live, organ-only? mad props to whoever’s doing that - the rest of the orchestra joins in for the latter part of the overture and the organ completely drops out, or at least goes quiet enough that i can’t hear it, and they’re really very good. This is hard material to play for high schoolers and they’re doing a nice job.

Hannibal: - Carlotta is a little off-pitch? but her voice is good, and I get the sense that it’s just because she was completely a cappella with nothing to guide her, because she maintains a good consistency? - the costumes range from original pieces to attempting a Bjornson feel - Reyer is a woman!! a very pretty woman with short hair in a tuxedo. - the corps de ballet doesn’t do ballet? but their choreography is obviously based on the original and it’s nice to see that kind of consistency - as I see closer shots I think there might be a few pointe dancers, since I see pointe shoes? but I don’t see any actual pointe (some demi pointe maybe but I don’t know enough about ballet to say for sure) and the choreography involves minimal leg movement. - Giry is pronounced “gear-y” here but I’ll give them a pass - this a really small stage, but every inch of it is used pretty well. Things only feel crowded when everyone is in the same spot. - Carlotta sounds AMAZING with orchestration to keep her in the right key - there’s a flat elephant brought in at the end

Think of Me (Carlotta): - Madame Firmin, who already existed in the ALW show, has been turned into her husband and is one half of “the couple who now own the Opera Populaire”. I’m loving the blind casting here - Carlotta’s Italian accent is not half bad considering it’s originating from somebody performing in a language that isn’t anything close to their native one - the crown used in Elissa’s costume looks more South Asian than the tiaras used in most productions, and I don’t know if it was an intentional cultural choice or if it was accidental, but either way I like the way it frames the actress’s face - the “backdrop collapse” is done really interestingly here - the backdrops are projected onto a screen, and so when the Phantom drops one, it just switches to the next slide on the screen with some shaking animation effects, flickering lights, and a thud sound. The cast reacts very well a la Star Trek, but it is frustrating because there’s not even the slightest indication that Carlotta was close to being hurt, which was her impetus for quitting before. She even continues singing for a while in the flickering lights. - Meg, whose voice is crystal clear, begins with “He’s there, the Phantom of the Opera!” and the rest of the cast joins in, and Andre cuts them off with his ‘insolence’ line - this is really slow, and kind of ponderous, and whenever this happens it’s my least favorite part of high school productions - “If you need me, I shall be in Frankfurt!” is delivered hilariously, with M. Lefevre dashing offstage after Carlotta and Piangi make their dramatic exit (punctuated with Carlotta throwing her scarf at the corps de ballet, which explains how Christine wound up with it) while Mme. Firmin and M. Andre just look on in horror at their situation. - Meg literally shoves Christine out of the corps de ballet while shouting “Christine Daae could sing it, sir!”. That’s such a lovely friend move, there, Meg. - This Christine really sells the “nervous, terrified at first” bit - I can hardly hear her singing until “far away and free” - Christine’s voice is very nice. Not the best high school voice I’ve heard (that still belongs to Asia Stewart) but it’s light and capable of singing the notes,even if it does go sharp now and again. For those of you keeping score, “August when the trees were green” shows up here. - the most distracting thing here is the scarf choreography, because instead of the typical scarf movements (which show up in the silent bits) Christine just keeps moving her arms back and forth like she’s pulling something toward her - A lovely Broadway cadenza turns up here - why is it that so many times it’s the cadenzas that are my favorite part of this?

Angel of Music/Little Lotte: - Immediately after the song, almost before the curtains close, Christine is mobbed by her fellow ballerinas. They’re in Degas-esque costumes, though modern (and glittery!) tutus dominate, with ribbons in their hair. It’s generally adorable. - I think the Phantom is singing through some kind of filter-adding microphone here, but he sounds pretty intimidating anyway - Meg’s voice is really nice. None of these high schoolers are, like, stellar? but none of them are horrible, and all of them sound like they know what they’re doing to some extent. - I think Christine’s actress is imitating Sierra Boggess, though, and I wish she’d explore her own stylings (but that’s just because I unconsciously imitate timbre and tone in other voices I hear singing and I want to help other people be more original than mine) - The orchestra is struggling more here than they were in Hannibal - Christine’s mirror is broken, with shards of glass sticking out around the inside of the frame. I’m left hoping it’s meant to be representational, with the glass being there diagetically? Because if not, Christine would definitely be able to see the creepy secret passage. - Raoul’s voice is the real weak spot here, which is really a shame. His chemistry with Christine, because he’s not acting that well either, does seem kind of lacking?

The Mirror: - Again, the Phantom is very intimidating here. Less vocally strong than Christine (in a lot of these shows, I find that the girls are more comfortable and more capable - is it because girls are more likely to take voice lessons, or because girls are more likely to have seen and memorized ALW’s music, or…?) - that being said, the Phantom’s voice is not bad. He can hit the notes and doesn’t get lost in the mix of the orchestra. His mask is also a sparkly silver (let it be known I typed ‘orange’ there first for some reason , and he emerges completely from the mirror to get to Christine. - Raoul finally gets into the dressing room after calling for Christine, and when he sees it’s empty, he turns to face the audience and says his ‘Angel’ line in a forlorn, sad voice as the lights dim and the curtains close. Now, when our more mellow organ playing begins, it feels almost funereal, and there’s a palpable sense of loss that is surprising and jarring because it’s so new.

[classicmusic]

On Programming Diversity for an Amateur Ensemble

Last year I was appointed the music director of an amateur ensemble in Boston made up of a choir and orchestra. It was an exciting, tremendous honor and privilege to take on, and I can’t believe I have this opportunity. One of the great excitements is being able to develop concert programming according to my own vision for the group. 

I conducted a concert a couple of years ago and programmed Bruckner’s lesser-known but stunning Te deum, two large Brahms choral works that are gorgeous, Vaughan Williams’s charming and forceful Five Mystical Songs, and a small Beethoven work that doesn’t see the stage very often. It was a really enjoyable concert for me personally, and I think it came off well. But obviously, it has a big flaw. The music is/was good, but there’s not a shred of diversity in it, beyond one composer not being German. Now I think about this program, and, while musically I still love it, I’m a little put off by its homogeneity.

When I was appointed music director, I saw this as an opportunity to do better. As I looked around at the end of last year for programming ideas for our September concert, I tried to branch out a little bit and came across Samuel Coleridge-Taylor. He has a number of works that I can’t easily find scores for, as it seems that people are content sticking with Hiawatha or excerpts from it. It’s a shame, I think. His music is gorgeous–he’s been called the “Black Mahler,” which is obviously problematic, but it does say something about his compositional style and, I think, its quality. So, being that our group has a very small budget, I went to IMSLP and discovered some octavos, but no full scores. After playing through some of these vocal scores, I settled on his cantata(-ish), Endymion’s Dream, to be our “big piece” for September. In February, if all goes as I’m thinking now, we’ll do (some of, if not all of) Bon-Bon Suite.

But I had to fill out the rest of the program around Endymion. So I looked around to see what I could come up with that might complement this piece, hoping to include some gender diversity, as well. I looked hard for published scores in libraries, in online retailers, on IMSLP and CPDL, and in the University of Michigan Women Composers Collection, and it turns out that it’s really hard to find scores for large choral-orchestral, or even just orchestral, pieces by women. They’ve been written by a number of important female composers, but they’re really difficult to track down in full score. And if they are available in published score, they’re often very expensive, likely because of limited printing runs, etc. Dover doesn’t offer much in this way. 

For last February's concert, I took a couple of small orchestral scores from the Michigan Collection by Cécile Chaminade and Clémence de Grandval and created performing editions, because that was a feasible option. That was really rewarding and exciting, as these were pieces likely not heard for quite a while, making all the hours transcribing worth the effort. But that was the type of work that was needed to be able to program women composers for an amateur group with a very small budget.

For the Endymion concert, I did some work to put together a sensible program, and it will include works by: 

Lili Boulanger, Ethel Smyth, Augusta Read Thomas (for two works), Amy Beach, Élisabeth Jacquet de la Guerre, Henry F. Gilbert (a Boston area ragtime composer), Billy Joel, Brahms, Coleridge-Taylor, Haydn and Borodin 

The breakdown for that is, then: five women and six men; six pieces by women, six pieces by men. There might be some shifting still, but I’m hoping the ratio won’t change.

Let me say this: programming that kind of ratio was more difficult than just programming better known and more frequently performed composers. And for a group that has a small budget (I can’t stress this aspect enough), casting the net widely is difficult. We can’t support trips to archives (even though I’m taking one to the Library of Congress next week to get the full Endymion score fair copy), so going to a place like the University of Colorado, which houses a number of scores by black women composers, is not much of an option. Buying obscure editions by small publishers that are forced by economics to charge high prices for scores and parts is possible, but not as a regular practice. And then, of course, there’s the concern of drawing an audience which typically prefers to hear war horses. And you want to maintain your identity, which for us means having some stylistic range, while also programming works that aren’t frequently performed (an important and advantageous foundation for more diversity in other aspects, which I am tremendously grateful for).

All of this contributed to the programming choices for our September concert this fall. The biggest hurdle in this program will be the added effort needed to make the rep work for our group, and it’s not going to be incredibly easy. But that’s the biggest thing: work.

Brian Lauritzen has been tracking the programming diversity of orchestras, at least by gender. When I started programming last year, his counts weren’t going quite yet (since ‘17-’18 seasons weren’t announced), but I wasn’t done when he started. That type of statistical evidence really confirmed my aspiration for my group’s programming. We have some warhorse pieces and composers on the program, of course, in part because they are reliable and a draw, but largely because they fit and are still good music. But even more, I believe that part of creating more diversity in classical programming is proving that less frequently performed composers can stand with the canonical composers. They belong on programs with Haydn. I know this is a stance that has problems with it (that I’m aware of or not), but it makes some sense to me.

That brings me to my overall thought with all of this: orchestras and opera companies can program more diversity. It takes a little more work, of course, and the hurdles of programming, in my experience (which this entire post is only a reflection on my experience), are evidence of some systemic failure. But the most talked about operas at the Met last year were by Saariaho and Berg. That should say something. My group, as a small, tiny budget, amateur choir and orchestra, will perform a program in September with (at least close to) an even split of pieces by men and women. I’m hoping we’ll find the support and audience that this music deserves so that we can continue in this pursuit and to prove that this type of programming is viable. But even if it’s less of a draw, I believe it’s absolutely worth it.

[preserving-ferretbrain]

Dark, Passionate, and Playful: Nightwish at the Astoria

by Rami

Friday, 28 March 2008Rami gets excited by Finnish metalheads

Oooh! This is in the Axis of Awesome!~

I'll be the first to admit that Nightwish, a symphonic metal band from Finland, are a bit of a niche taste. So if you're not into slightly outlandish metal you probably want to stop right here, and I wouldn't blame you at all. If you are, read on...

Drama on stage is de rigueur for the genre, and Nightwish have had their fair share of drama off stage as well -- not too long ago they kicked out their old singer amidst a host of recriminations. As if to drive the message further home with their fans, they opened the concert with a song aimed directly at the acrimonious split: "Bye Bye Beautiful", from their new album (Dark Passion Play, you see, features a shiny new frontwoman). Fast-paced, heavy, and featuring plenty of powerful vocals from bassist Marco, it certainly worked as an opener and set the tone for a high-energy show to come.

I haven't seen Nightwish live before, except for video clips, so I can't compare performances -- from what I've seen, though, their previous singer Tarja was aloof and reserved, providing her (glorious) voice and very little else to the proceedings (

another review

of the previous night says Tarja "had all the stage personality of a walnut"). Annette, on the other hand, was a whirlwind of energy -- dancing around the stage, joking with the audience, interacting with the others, and clearly enjoying herself to the full. She also kept little of the limelight to herself, so we were able to see each of the other band members doing what they do best -- performing, be it strumming a guitar, on keyboards, pounding at drums or belting out lyrics at the top of their lungs. They were having a great time, and it showed.

Every piece from Dark Passion Play came out fantastically, with every member of the band in his or her element and the crowd's enthusiasm for the music infusing the performance. I especially appreciated their choices of songs to open up and finish off the concert -- as I've already said, "Bye Bye Beautiful" started things going energetically and unashamedly declared that this was the new Nightwish, and they were proud of it; the last song, "Seven Days to the Wolves", is one of my favorites from the new album as well. I was also impressed to find out that the haunting flute tones in the wholly-instrumental "Last of the Wilds" were actually produced by what looked like a set of bagpipes, expertly played by a guest from the London Philharmonic.

The downside of the new Nightwish is that their older songs fall a little flat -- this was particularly evident during songs where Annette was clearly out of her vocal range and simply couldn't sustain the clear high notes or match Tarja's vocal projection (in "The Siren", for instance, she couldn't help but be drowned out by Marco's more powerful voice). On the other hand, a couple of old favorites -- "Wishmaster" and "Wish I Had An Angel" were raw enough in their tone to work well for her obviously straining voice, and "Nemo" couldn't help but be a hit simply because of the enthusiasm rolling out from the crowd.

On the whole, Nightwish put on a fantastic show -- and if, in future, they focus more on their newer offerings they'll continue to blow the socks off anyone who goes to see them!Themes:

Music and Gigs

~

bookmark this with - facebook - delicious - digg - stumbleupon - reddit

~Comments (

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)

Wardog

at 17:46 on 2008-03-31Ahhh, it was brilliant! It took me right back to my misspent youth it did, and reminded me why I'm secretly so fond of symphonic metal. Annette is absolutely adorable and, quite frankly, even though the older songs are slightly out of her vocal range, I prefer her to Tarja. She's much more engaging for a start.

I wasn't so impressed by the support, I have to admit - although perhaps I'm being harsh. They certainly warmed the crowd up effectively, I will say that, but dear God the music was ... well ... not bad (except for their pointless cover of Eleanor Rigby which was excrutiating) but sort of generic. But what can you expect from a Swedish metal band called PAIN. Hilarious quantities of head-banging though.

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Claire E Fitzgerald

at 02:40 on 2008-12-05This is what I like about Ferret - I read about things which would otherwise pass me by with a resounding 'hnn?'.

NOOBQ - how is symphonic metal different from metal? I like symphonies but am pained and disorientated by real metal. Would I like symphonic metal?

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Rami

at 09:33 on 2008-12-05Symphonic metal, to me, basically softens down the rough edges of more traditional metal -- so instead of discordant angrily screaming men, you tend to have melodic angrily screaming women, for instance. Nightwish, in particular, often record with orchestral backing, so a lot of their track sound like a cross between harsh, fast, powerful metal and the grandeur of film-score music. You can try out a couple of tracks on

Last.fm's online radio

...

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Arthur B

at 09:35 on 2008-12-05Based on my experience, you've got mainstream metal, symphonic metal, and extreme metal.

Symphonic metal has vocals tending towards the operatic. Mainstream metal has somewhat aggressive shouting. Extreme metal has vocals ranging from Cookie Monster to Cookie Monster with his blue fuzzy balls in a vice.

Symphonic metal is likely to be influenced by classical music, folk music, and 70s prog rock bands (who, indeed, sometimes described themselves as "symphonic rock"). Mainstream metal is likely to be influenced by Black Sabbath and Judas Priest. Extreme metal is likely to be influenced by a keen desire to upset your parents.

Symphonic metal bands ideally have a very pretty vocalist, and even when they can't manage it are at least well-dressed. Mainstream metal bands have torn jeans and Slayer shirts. Extreme metal bands have an alarming tendency to wear KISS-inspired makeup and fake blood.

Symphonic metal bands do concept albums based on The Lord of the Rings (or their own mythology which basically involves elves and wizards anyway). Mainstream metal bands are less keen on concept albums overall, but will sing about Conan the Barbarian if pressed. Extreme metal bands do concept albums about fucking you to death in the eye socket and shitting on the face of Christ, though if you can actually decipher enough of the lyrics to understand that you're doing pretty well.

The stage shows of symphonic metal bands - well, Rami describes one above fairly well. The stage shows of mainstream metal bands involve more mosh pits. The stage shows of extreme metal bands involve more pig heads on spits.

Symphonic metal bands tend not to sing about Satan. Mainstream metal bands will occasionally mention about how cool Satan is. Not only will extreme metal bands never shut up about Satan if/when they get onto the subject, but they're much more likely to be serious about it.

I can't tell you whether or not you'd like symphonic metal: ultimately, it is still all about the loud guitars, but this time they borrow more from Mozart than from Tony Iommi. You could do a lot worse than checking out some Nightwish or Rhapsody of Fire or Dragonforce videos on YouTube.

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Wardog

at 09:51 on 2008-12-05I have say I'm loving the random article generator since it seems to be calling up fine under-loved articles from Fb's past.

For what it's worth, I adore Nightwish ... they're just so *dramatic* and, as people have said, they're loudly melodious as opposed to just, y'know, *loud*.

Arthur: you missed out VIKING METAL!

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Arthur B

at 10:04 on 2008-12-05Viking metal straddles everything, like a giant of Jotunheim; you've got stuff ranging from symphonicy-folky bands with Viking flavours to mainstream bands who happen to wear horned helmets on stage to, on the extreme metal end of things, racist madmen like

Varg Vikernes

. Though the guys on the folk metal end of the spectrum probably have a better grasp of Scandanavian history and culture than most.

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Rami

at 10:09 on 2008-12-05

it is still all about the loud guitars

Sometimes it's the loud organs or amplified choral scores too ;-)

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Wardog

at 10:51 on 2008-12-05Tee hee. You said organ.

(sorry, it's Friday, I'm hysterical).

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TheMerryMustelid

at 21:14 on 2012-04-21Was it the 90's where 'Nordic Rock' started getting more recognition around the world? For me it started with the stratospheric popularity of the Bulgarian Women's Music Choir. They toured once & when they were in my city I happened to be in the front row, bawling me widdle eyes out. (one of them actually came up to me after the show and put a sympathetic hand on my tear-stained face, making me of course cry even

more

).

From there I got got into Latvian, Lithuanian, Finnish, and all things musically Baltic. It was the rocking reinterpretations of Baltic traditional music I enjoyed more that Viking Metal per se. I love Vartinna, Garna, Hedingarna, Gallahorne, Mari Bonne which are band names I'm most likely mispelling. But they are all worth checking out.

I like metal about as much as I like rap, which is to say, not very much. The metal I do like either has a sense of humor about themselves (Rob Zombie and DeathClock) or are unapologetically Pagan in their themes (that is, done for acutal

spiritual

value and not for mere shock/schlock value).

[noramoya]

"I worked with Michael on two videos, Ghost being the first and Rock My World the second. Initially Mick Garris, a director whom I have a long working history with, was scheduled to direct Ghost but when the schedule changed he was unable to continue because of prior commitments. Stan Winston took over as director as well as visual effects guru and so I rang him up and said that Mick had wanted me score the video and would he consider doing likewise! I sent him some of my work which he loved and asked me to come in and meet Michael. Working with Michael was like a dream. The highlight of my musical career. He is one of a very small handful of people that one dreams about working with. Obviously a massive talent, a pop superstar and at the same time, a very respectful and gentle collaborator. We were very much on the same wavelength and he was thrilled with the music that I wrote for him. I will share one experience. The first ten minutes of the video is all me, musically. The first time I sat down with him to play a synthesizer mock-up of what would eventually be played by the orchestra, I was very nervous about what his response would be. We sat down in a studio, I put in the tape, and sweated for nine and a half minutes while Michael sat there engrossed. At the moment where he has finished summoning all the ghosts, the music has built to a massive climax on Michael and when we reached that moment Michael jumped out of his seat and shouted “yes!” After that, I knew that I was on the right track! Artistically, he didn’t make any requests of me. I met with him and Stan and gave him a brief idea of what I had in mind. I don’t usually go into a lot of detail trying to talk about music preferring rather to compose it and show it. The picture is what influenced me. I knew that I wanted it big and the initial budget was for a 60 piece orchestra and I told Michael that I didn’t think that he’d be happy with fewer than a 90 piece plus choir. I also knew I wanted it Gothic and dramatic - something that I thought would really compliment the film. He is a perfectionist, as are all of the greatest artists - it’s what sets them apart from all the rest. I also demand perfection from myself and the orchestra and so we both had the same goal. As far as changes, I made none. Michael would listen to a piece and say, “I have nothing to say!” We spent about nine days together. Two full days in my studio just the two of us, and then days when we had meetings, recorded the orchestra. For the first ten minutes after he arrived at my studio, all I kept thinking was, “I’m sitting here with Michael Jackson, I’m sitting here with Michael Jackson!” After that we were just two musicians working together in the studio.Everything that I wrote is in the film and the only piece that had his vocal on it was Descending Angels.Whatever I needed he made available to me.It was fantastic! Probably at the top of my list of working creatively with anyone. A big part of that was Michael being an incredible musician. The first time he came to my studio he said “look, if you have any questions, just call me any time of the day or night…He was a real gentleman and a sweetheart! For my part, I think that orchestral scoring is timeless. There are no synth sound effects that may sound dated down the road. I think that speaking for the project as a whole, everybody set out to do their very best and our only adversary was time. From the time that I came on, I had three weeks to deliver the score. The artistic direction had been set long before I wrote any music and so my job was to enhance the film to the best of my ability. I worked chronologically. The most demanding section being the first 10 minutes where the score is very much helping to tell the story and create the atmosphere as well as underline the action. I spent a lot of time on the Ceiling Dance piece. It had to be perfectly in sync with the dancing as well as the acrobatics of Michael and the ghosts. [...]Essentially, the film was close to being complete by the time I started to compose.The placement of the songs was tied to the storyline and so they were pretty much set. Footage had been shot and assembled and visual effect sequences like the dancing skeleton were being digitized. As far as the score, Michael, Stan and I decided on where to put music.I have no doubt that the songs influenced the approach but ultimately, Michael knew the story he wanted to tell and the tone in which he wanted it told. Michael was the greatest among some true legends and icons that I had worked with. A friend called me to tell me of his passing and I can tell that it was the start of an extended period of grief. Even though Michael hadn’t been very active for a few years I always believed that we would work together again and I was sensing that the moment was approaching. Coming to terms with the fact that nothing else was going to happen was very sad. [...]I don’t think that I can describe him in one word. He was a very complex being. To me the greatest performer ever, a huge musical talent and at the same time the most gentle of souls. Extremely thoughtful and respectful of others as well as extremely generous and caring.I learned from him that being tolerant and respectful of others, no matter who you are, allows your own star to burn a million times brighter." Nicholas Pike, composer remembering working with Michael Source:alchrista Note:Nicholas Pike composed the score for Ghosts, but Michael is also credited as co-composer or composer in three orchestral pieces: “Dance On The Ceiling”, “Descending Angels” and “Ashes To Ashes” from Ghosts.

[1303167honoursproject]

Audio Research

 Some background noise will be required in this game to heighten the atmosphere, so I have looked at existing works, mostly horror games, for inspiration. However, I must be careful that the soundscape in this game is more eerie than all-out scary as this is not the intended atmosphere. I feel that ambient noise will be more appropriate than actual music, although I am capable of stringing a few basic chords together which might work for the beginning or the end of the game. The tracks below have been selected to demonstrate my idea as they fit my criteria, or at least aspects of them do.

Silent Hill 1 features many tracks that could be considered suitable.

Hear Nothing (Mostly ambiet sound effects)

Heaven Give Me Say (Strange, high pitched, echoy noises)

Fear of the Dark (More tuneful, perhaps melancholy)

Amnesia: The Dark Descent also makes good use of ambient sounds, which tend to sound rather synthesised, although much of it is better for an all-out horror game than the one I am making.

Menu Theme (Quite simple, mostly ambient again with both low and high sounds)

Darkness (Features a range of occasional noises, such as groaning and possibly clattering bones)

The Legend of Zelda series has a number of tracks throughout the series from which inspiration may be drawn.

Snowpeak (High-pitched synthesised vocals and echoing percussive sounds, along with faint wind noises, create cold and lonely atmosphere)

Dodongo’s Cavern (Minimal sounds, very ambient like horror game tracks)

Other tracks are listed here.

Doctor Who: Midnight (This episode is widely considered one of the most unsettling in the series, and I feel some of this is down to Murray Gold’s composition. More orchestral than most of the game pieces, but the beginning of the track is reminiscent of ambient tracks found in games and is certainly unsettling)

Doctor Who: Blink (More melancholy than scary due to the clarinet playing the melody, but the backing strings, especially at the beginning, create an eerie feel. The middle portion is a bit too lively, but the piano and the screeching violins at the end create a sense of urgency)

Muse - Exogenesis: Symphony, Part 1 (Overture) (Obviously far beyond my capabilities, but the strings in the beginning shifting from major to minor is quite effecting in creating a strange feeling. The high, rather drawn out notes of the vocalist also add to this)

The Dream Machine: A Dream (Ambient but also tuneful. Synthesised sounds. Accidentals used to create an eerie feel. A definitely unsettling and uncomfortable soundtrack overall, including this track, which is also somewhat melancholy)

Ori and the Blind Forest: Lost in the Misty Woods (Features an interesting melody, but also has quite unsettling ambience music in the background. Again, the occasional rattling and other percussive sounds are used to build on this)

Louis Viallet: Lonely Wind (Again, more complex than I could manage, but the range of instruments used and their slow, echoing sounds create a sense of loneliness, which is also heightened by the sound of wind)