Exhale

Phwoarrrrrrrr.

Unplugged

'Some day, the true story may be told.'

"One likes to think that there is some fantastic limbo for the children of imagination, some strange, impossible place where the beaux of Fielding may still make love to the belles of Richardson, where Scott's heroes still may strut, Dickens' delightful Cockneys still raise a laugh, and Thackeray's worldlings continue to carry on their reprehensible careers. Perhaps in some humble corner of such a Valhalla, Sherlock and his Watson may for time find a place, while some more astute sleuth with some even less astute comrade may fill the stage which they have vacated."

 

***

 

Genuinely, genuinely moved by my second go-around with Nick Drake's music. His story is a tragic one but "Pink Moon" and "Things Behind The Sun" are timeless classics.

Another Day, Another Grid Failure

I have to thank the largest power blackout in history for jogging memories of early 1999 (the last time I can remember such power cuts at this time of year) and, more specifically, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ppdWrsHJeEE. Some stuff never gets old. Fantastic.

***

Feeling a lot better, everyone - your concern is much appreciated.

Also see http://www.sportsscientists.com/2012/07/london-day-2-quick-thoughts - best thing I've read...today.

Britpop, Bad Food, Statutory Interpretation - Story of My Life

I'm riding a wave called A Northern Soul. Now this is music, no pun intended.

The bruschetta at Nirula's is bad. Really very bad.

Section 30(4) of the Trade Marks Act, 1999 states:

"Sub-section (3) shall not apply where there exists legitimate reasons for the proprietor to oppose further dealings in the goods in particular, where the condition of the goods, has been changed or impaired after they have been put on the market."

For the life of me, I do not understand why there is a comma between 'goods' and 'has'. Someone 'explain me why'. Please.

The End of a Fascination

Any album that (a) has a title which is nonsense, (b) prescribes its own pronunciation for said title (it’s ‘mylo zy-letoe’, apparently) and (c) unabashedly declares itself to be a concept album drawing on a wide range of seemingly powerful influences better be good. Unfortunately, the overwhelming feeling at the end of Coldplay’s fifth album is one of superficiality and of a band now utterly, irreconcilably adrift of the kind of music that made them great.

In keeping with the concept album feel, three of Mylo Xyloto’s fourteen tracks are sub-one minute interludes (one of them is even called ‘A Hopeful Transmission’, lest there be any doubt) and that is really where the problem begins—the ‘concept’ is of a ‘love story with a happy ending’ which (a) is battered into submission by Chris Martin’s alternately whooping and whining vocals and lazy lyrical imagery (‘Every Teardrop Is a Waterfall’ is referenced on ‘Paradise’ and ‘Us Against the World’ on ‘Major Minus’, all of which are painfully contrived from his bag of rainbow clichés) and (b) isn’t far removed from the majority of standard-issue Coldplay anyway.

With such a thin musical premise, the songs themselves need to deliver and, about halfway through ‘Paradise’ it dawns on you that this isn’t another experimental foray, this is what Coldplay is now—melody-driven power pop built for arenas, replete with ‘woah-oh’ choruses and a sea of shimmering synth sounds. In that sense, the last three years have not been a long journey at all—‘Paradise’ is the direct successor to ‘Viva La Vida’ from the previous album, much as ‘Every Teardrop Is a Waterfall’ is an aggrandized version of ‘Strawberry Swing’. Other indications of musical continuity with their own past are to be found on ‘Hurts Like Heaven’, ‘Don’t Let It Break Your Heart’ (almost laughably similar to ‘The Hardest Part’) and ‘U.F.O.’ (Martin’s oddly lumpy vocals literally run out of things to sing about roughly halfway through), but none of these transform the urgency and earnestness that have never been in doubt into anything remotely fresh or groundbreaking.

As expected, there are some bright spots but virtually all of them—the piano motif on ‘Charlie Brown’ (you’d think that if they wanted an instrumental track so bad, they’d have picked this) and the jagged guitars on ‘Major Minus’ in particular—speak more to Brian Eno’s influence on the album and, more worryingly, make them sound uncomfortably like U2. This isn’t a harking back to the good U2 of the late 80s/early 90s either (it’s worth keeping in mind that, going by the ‘jural correlative’ theory I use to force symmetry on everything, this ought to be Coldplay’s equivalent to Achtung Baby), this is pinching riffs to pass off as a sleek 2010s rebirth of U2-lite.

There is also more wholesome, heart-warming, echoing Coldplay goodness on ‘Us Against the World’, which features the full range of Martin’s voice and is as evocative as anything they’ve ever done but also as ‘cruelly magnolia’ (since that is the colour for the album) as anything they’ve ever done. Then there’s ‘Up in Flames’ (built around a very un-Coldplay-like sparse, decaying drumbeat) and ‘Up with the Birds’ (which closes the album full of the flashes and flares of shimmering sounds that dominate the previous thirteen tracks) which, again, suggest that there’s some really good music they could produce if they so choose but disappoint for precisely the reason that they choose not to.

As if to seal the discussion, there is a collaboration with Rihanna on ‘Princess of China’, which wouldn’t be out of place on a Rihanna album, such is the extent of Coldplay’s immersion in hook-laden, get-up-and-dance-pop (albeit with a sample pinched off Sigur Rós). It is smartly done, too—a genuine surprise on an album almost devoid of it.

And so ends my fascination with Coldplay—the band that has substituted imagination with electropop, the band which now opens at #1 on music charts around the world on the back of an album which doesn’t have a single song that can be properly identified with the smooth, emotive three-piece rock that brought them this far.  

         

Zygotic mynci? Mylo zygo?

And then, this made me smile. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1G4isv_Fylg

It's true - their videos are getting better, their songs are getting worse.

A review of Noel Gallagher's High Flying Birds (expected to hit UK #1 early next week) and Mylo Xyloto (who'd bet against it reaching #1 everywhere?) to follow soon.

'Scuse Me

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q0QMhSLg0t0

Another Noel classic. Can't wait for the album.

Two Homes

Off to Delhi in a few hours. About time it all starts coming together.

It also strikes me that I now have at least two places to call home. I've never had my attention split this way before and I'm not sure if I'm going to like it.

Currently overdosing on Noel Gallagher's "The Death of You and Me" - too similar to "The Importance of Being Idle" (which, in itself, carries heavy influences from at least two songs by The Kinks) to be appreciated as a genuine creative piece of work, but it never ceases to amaze me how he's able to write entertaining lyrics for songs that otherwise sound almost exactly the same. And I love the blue girl in the video. 

QotD

1. Ludwig van Beethoven, "Piano Sonata No. 8 Op. 13 'Pathetique'"

2. Ruggerio Leoncavallo, "Vesti La Guibba"

3. Nino Rota, "The Godfather (Theme)"

4. The Beach Boys, "Wouldn't It Be Nice"

5. Gioachino Rossini, "The Barber of Seville"

6. Harry Nilsson, "Everybody's Talkin'"

7. John Williams, "Superman (Theme)"

8. Lionel Richie, "Hello"

9. Petula Clark, "Downtown"

10. Sheena Easton, "Morning Train (9 to 5)"

11. Earth, Wind & Fire, "Shining Star"

12. Samuel Barber, "Adagio for Strings"

13. Eagles, "Desperado"

14. Eagles, "Witchy Woman"

15. Joey Scarbury, "The Greatest American Hero"

16. Commodores, "Three Times a Lady"

17. Jackie Davis, "Manana (Is Soon Enough for Me)"

18. Foghat, "Slow Ride"

19. Iron Butterfly, "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida"

20. Wall of Voodoo, "Mexican Radio"

21. Michael Jackson, "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough"

22. Green Day, "Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)"

Connect. :p (Numbers 9, 11, 14 and 22 are giveaways. The fact that this list appears on my blog is a giveaway too.) 

How do you feel when there's no sun?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_wz9JkkiBdU

No words.

Super Saturday

Just for how wrong it sounds, I have to say that I've done nothing constructive today other than read a 176-page judgement.

I've lost my faith in the summer time, because it don't stop raining.

The BBC iPlayer has ruined my life.

I can't be your friend unless I pretend

More from Neil McCormick's spellbinding Killing Bono:

"And still we didn't sit down and say, 'That's it.' Wave the white flag. Surrender. We didn't look each other in the eye, shake hands and say: 'We gave it our best shot. It was not to be.' Rather, we skulked around, avoiding each other, seeking refuge in the arms of women.

I was in love. For the first time, I felt I could actually say that without fear, without equivocation or concern about commitment. And it may be that failure released me from the prison of ego and ambition, so that I no longer contemplated the future with the greedy eyes of a child in a candy store. Or it may be that love was a safe haven for my wounded ego, because love makes everybody special. Our loved ones loved our songs. They'd ask us to play for them, even when no one else wanted to listen anymore.

[...] The object of my ardor was Gloria. And when she finally reciprocated, after a long siege on the stronghold of her heart, [...] I was temporarily elevated to seventh heaven, king of all I surveyed. In the warmth of her embrace, I could overlook my failures. I could even thanks for the crooked path my life had taken, telling myself that it had led to this wonderful woman."

And this, from a newly-rediscovered 'Sewn' by The Feeling:

" 'Cos you got my heart in a headlock

You stopped the blood and made my head soft

And God knows

You've got me sewn."

One big reason I like this song is because Dan Gillespie Sells pronounces "can't" like it's meant to be, not the way the Americans do.

A line from this song was the subject of my first-ever Facebook status message, about a month short of four years ago.

My, how things've changed.

'I can squeeze in twelve hundred words'

From Neil McCormick's Killing Bono (2004), without doubt the best book I've ever read about music:

"Sarah must've been impressed at any rate. She offered me the job on the spot. But what job? I was on full alert for clues.

'I think you would be ideal material for the Telegraph,' said Sarah. 'You're young...'
(These days it wasn't often I was called young but journalism is very different from the music business and at a newspaper whose most famous correspondent, Bill Deedes, was pushing eighty, I suppose a thirty-four year old could be considered a spring chicken.)

'...dynamic...'
(I could tell she liked the cut of my suit.)

'...you're a really terrific writer...'
(What can I say? I just felt flattered that somebody had noticed all the good work I had been doing.)

'...and you can bring a wealth of your own experience to the job...'
(What experience was she getting at, exactly?)

'...Because unlike most people in this profession, you've seen it from both sides...'
(I wasn't sure I liked where this was going.)

'...You've actually been there and done it.'
'I certainly have,' I said, hoping she wasn't going to ask me to elaborate on where I had been and what I had done.

'I think you would be an outstanding rock critic for the Daily Telegraph.'
I nodded thoughtfully.My past had caught up with me." 

"The nagging feeling is that 'Different Gear' isn’t quite different enough."

"Nevertheless, the other Liam contribution, 'Soldier On', highlights Dig Out Your Soul's biggest problem: the mid-tempo plod that has become Oasis's default rhythmic setting. There's something trudging and weary about it, redolent of gritted teeth and furrowed brows, of labour rather than effortless inspiration."
- Alex Petridis, October 3, 2008


"Here's some very slender songwriting, and Gallagher Jr apes the plonking lyrics that made his brother look more dim than he actually is. At its worst... gurning Lennon vocals, lumbering glitterbeat, lyrical exhortations to 'hold on' – you simply gawp, thinking: never mind anyone else, aren't you bored of this kind of thing now?"
- Alex Petridis, February 24, 2011


Not much has changed in two-and-a-bit years, then.


P.S. Honourable mention also to The Observer's Kitty Empire:

"When main-man Noel Gallagher left the band after one row too many with his younger brother in August 2009, the rump Oasis – Liam Gallagher, Gem Archer, Andy Bell and Chris Sharrock – didn't exactly ditch the band's modus operandi. Oasis-bar-one have a new name that, as Liam has noted, now locates them closer alphabetically to the Beatles than Oasis did." 


:-)

The Knock-Kneed Love Dance

After hearing so much about it, I finally ended up watching This Is Spinal Tap last night. Apart from the obvious reasons to be really impressed by it, upon reflection, I find that it's equally massive for making some legitimately heavy subjects sort of just bounce by without making you realise the kind of stinging commentary it is on rock-'n-roll. I once termed this, none too creatively, as the 'giant beachball effect' and I'm glad I found another piece of work to conveniently categorise as such.

The Stone Roses' "Waterfall" has been playing in my head all day. It suits the weather these days. These days have made the distinction between day and night feel a little meaningless. I can completely understand why people living on the wrong side of the sixty-six and a half degree latitude live in such depression and misery. I cannot wait to get home. And beyond. :)

Also, Leeds have drawn an away tie at Arsenal in the third round of this year's FA Cup. Shouldn't there be a rule formalising a past giant-killers' exemption in the Cup? Or is it even possible to imagine that a day as perfect as January 3, 2010 will occur again?

My Last Breath (Four Non-Blondes?)

Deceived by my eyes and all I was told I should see
Opinions not mine, the person they taught me to be
One night in the dark, a vision of someone I knew
And in the darkness I saw, a voice say, I'm you.
Inside me a light was turned on
Then I was alive

If you close your eyes your life, a naked truth revealed
Dreams you never lived, and scars never healed
In the darkness, light will take you to the other side
And find me waiting there you'll see, if you just close your eyes

Hearts uninspired, trapped inside somebody's dream
Too close to the fire, yet cold and numb with the pain
But the fever has broken, and the river has run to the sea
Washed to the ocean, and saved by a voice inside me.
Inside me a light was turned on
Then I was alive

Never thought I would be here, so high in the air
This was my unanswered prayer
Defined by another, so much wasted time
Out of the darkness, each breath that I take will be mine.

It's amazing how, sometimes, songs can describe not just sentiments or even a range of emotions, but entire careers and lives.

I was made to believe in the inherent good in all things wrestling when Kane held the World Heavyweight Title aloft back in July at Money in the Bank. Please, please let there be one more monster push before it's too late. I cannot think of a single person who has deserved, nay needed, one more over the last decade and a half than the man they once called The Instant Classic.

A Thousand Million Miles from Home

As I turned down the right-hand corner past Magdalen College this morning, cursing the imposing embankments and high walls for not permitting enough sunshine onto Longwall Street, my iPod started playing the title track from Delhi 6. The four minutes that followed were quite surreal, as all the memories I have associated with that song came flooding back to mind. In that moment, it felt very, very strange to be walking down that street and thinking of how far away I am from everything that is familiar. In many ways, I still can't quite believe it.

It's just a matter of time, though. It won't be long now.

(First multiple same day posts since May 9, 2010.)

Hooik-Wheeew!

2010's been about a lot of peaks and a lot of troughs with very little else in between. But have you heard? It's in the stars. Next July we collide with Mars.

You're Gonna Need the Good Lord to Help You

About ten days ago, buried deep in the Music folder on my laptop that I rarely visit, I found The Raconteurs and decided to give them another try. I'd heard bits and pieces from their previous album and had downloaded "Old Enough" on an impulse about a year back, having heard it playing on Vh1 after coming home from my Luthra internship one rainy evening.

One thing that really hits you about Consolers of the Lonely is how obviously indie it is and tries to be. Not surprisingly, this is a good and a bad thing. That I've been moved to write this at all is proof that it is more good than bad, given the fact that I have the musical taste the width of a peanut.

There are five stellar songs on this album, more than any other album in recent times that I've had the patience to listen to. Leaving aside my classification of "Old Enough" as one of these five, based, as it is, purely on the repetitive good feeling that TV overkill manages to generate (a feature that many people cite as the only possible explanation for Rihanna's "Umbrella" being even remotely tolerated by humanity), I have, believe it or not, been genuinely moved by the other four songs.

Normally, to consider "Top Yourself" a good song after listening to "Old Enough" would be akin to liking Coldplay's "Speed of Sound" immediately after complementing "Clocks" for the masterpiece that it is, so similar are the two in most material particulars. What makes "Top Yourself" worthwhile, however, is the gnarling arrogance that makes it a tough sell to practically anyone apart from people like me.

I'm pretty sure, though, that "Consoler of the Lonely" and "You Don't Understand Me" are more amenable to popular acclaim, particularly the latter for its mesmerising piano and off-key harmony. The album also contains the best closing song I've heard in a while--"Carolina Drama"--which is like a cross between Eminem's "Stan" and Robbie Williams' "Me and My Monkey", while staying true to the rough-around-the-edges feel to the group that has only been enhanced by the comfortably decent "The Switch and the Spur", "Many Shades of Black" and "Rich Kid Blues". I can also imagine why "Five on the Five" and "These Stones Will Shout" have proven to be live hits among the unique sub-culture that is defined as fans of The Raconteurs, but I have a bit of trouble digesting what strikes me as being incredibly wasteful music--a judgement I can only pass generously on "Salute Your Solution", the first single off Consolers of the Lonely.

But there's something about this band. Something very greatest hits-ey. Like a breath of fresh air that accompanies long-awaited rain. Like it is right now, outside my room. :)