Amplifying the music, books, movies and journalism that matter.
Life is complicated and busy. Did you notice? Keeping up with the music, movies and books that fed your youthful imagination and conversations is harder than ever, but even more important. Here's the good news: there's never been more great new stuff. The challenge is to find it.
So here are my highly opinionated views on sounds, sights and words that will help you keep it fresh and real, and links to the veins where the richest motherlodes can be found.
Somehow I managed to pass through high school, college, grad
school and some decades since then without having ever read a single biography
of Winston Churchill (never mind a word of the man’s own vast output).
But prompted by a planned visit to his ancestral home,
Blenheim Palace, and a nagging awareness of this gap in my education, I’ve just
devoured Paul Johnson’s wonderfully concise biography of Sir Winston.
Johnson’s rapid-fire summary of his life speeds you along
to complete agreement with his conclusion: Churchill is the greatest figure of the 20th Century.
Johnson wraps up with a list of
the man’s defining character traits that’s so concise it could earn this book a
place in the self-help section.
At 128 pages, you can knock this off on your next plane
ride -- and you should.
In the early 80’s as the Replacements were hitting their
stride, I was distracted: by
marriage, work and play in NY, the dawn of CD’s, the rise of Prince, REM and
Run DMC and, I’m embarrassed to say, the Pet Shop Boys. My bad.
With no radio play to hook me and informed only by a rock press I had come to mistrust, I lumped the Replacements not incorrectly with Dinosaur Jr, the Pixies and Pavement, writing the whole lot off as too loud and punky to matter to me. And so I would have missed the boat forever except for the
time warp of iTunes, where everything old is eternally available for
reappraisal. Thank you, Steve Jobs.
Here for your bemusement (if you loved them all along) or
your own belated discovery are the tunes I have come to love from a band that
has become one of my favorites.
I Will Dare – As
elemental as “Louie, Louie” but more clearly enunciated. “How smart are you? How dumb am
I?”
Bastards of Young
– This is actually the kind of music I thought they made: rude, loud, with a
searing guitar. I just like it
better than I knew.
Achin to Be
– A reminder that a country twang jangles through some of their best songs.
Swinging Party – A
swaying tune on which you could mistake the Mats for Billy Bragg, to the credit
of both.
And because Mats main man Paul Westerberg is still
recording, one from him, too: Love You in
the Fall.
I can’t be the only one here who has a weakness for coming of age movies. Me? I’ll take it in just about any form -- the auteur
variety: The 400 Blows, the Last Picture Show, American Graffiti; the ironic and
oddball: Igby Goes Down, Rushmore; and of course the teen
crisis ouevre of John Hughes that began with 16 Candles. I’m not
sure why this should be. My own
adolescence was long ago and, in the end, not so painful.
But here comes Submarine,
a recent, irresistible Welsh take on the form which proves once again the timeless
appeal of a well-told tale of teenage humiliations. We meet Oliver, a 16
year-old who has real reasons to be
embarrassed by his Python-esque parents, and Jordanna, the gothy object of his
affections.
Poor Oliver’s world is in full tilt. His Dad is depressed, his Mum is flirting (or worse) with a
pathetic old flame, and Jordana is at risk of being softened up by her mother’s
cancer. And in keeping with the
conventions of the oddball strain of the genre, these two find solace in petty pyromania.
Submarine is an affecting and original reminder of how fragile and durable we are
through the strange passage of adolescence. Not as dark as Harold and Maude, it's every bit as funny. Major props to first-time director Richard Ayoade for this film’s freshness,
which doesn’t just come from the Swansea setting. On iTunes and Netflix.
What if I told you there was someone making R&B influenced music with the
originality Prince had in 1982?With vocal stylings that owe a huge debt to Michael Jackson (listen for the
sharpintake of breath that
signifies both pain and ecstasy)?
Meet Abel Tesfaye, a 22-year old Canadian, recording as The
Weeknd who is rocking the alternative space with an airy, moody sound that
drips with heartsick regret, doubt, and recrimination.Sounds like fun, huh?Listen to his “Next” from his
just issued Echoes of Silence, stricken
about an empty affair that he’s clearly not ready to give up.
Now understand that he has released three mixtapes (aka “albums”)
in the last 12 months, a rate of productivity we haven’t seen since Ryan
Adams.When you produce that
much music it can’t all be great.But, even if you are batting .250 you’ll still turn out more than a few
keepers like “The Morning” from this first release House of Balloons.
This is music that sits at the intersection of trip hop and
contemporary R&B.No coincidence
that Drake turns up or that the Weeknd is himself a much sought remix
producer.Don’t bring a
conventional rock expectation to these tracks – they never speed up; they never
break out; there’s no escape.But
you will stay with “Thursday” to the end, waiting and spellbound.
Available as downloads from the Weeknd’s website. http://the-weeknd.com/
For a grey January, three distinctive women’s voices working very different roots, rock, and reggae veins.
Gillian Welch - Listening to Welch
and her partner Dave Rawlings is like tuning in to some ghost broadcast from the
Dust Bowl. Their original songs
are steeped in bluegrass and traditional country but informed by the Dead and
the Band. She released a fine
album last year, The Harrow and The Harvest, on which you will find this wonderful
example of their songcraft, "The Way It Goes".
But the pinnacle of her work for me, is this spare, loving tune about Elvis, "Elvis Presley Blues" from her Time (the Revelator), from 2001. Wouldn't you love to live next door to her and hear this music coming through the trees on a warm night? Wouldn't you love it to be a warm night?
Kathleen Edwards – Why haven’t I been paying
attention? With a decade
long career behind her, I am just now noticing what a fine voice she has – recalling
Suzanne Vega and Neko Case – and an musical style that sits somewhere between alt
country and folk rock. (Er, same thing I guess.) Start with "Empty Threat", from her just released Voyageur. Then, do not pass "GO", listen to her "Hockey Skates". She's Canadian, eh? And keep paying attention.
Hollie Cook - Dad was the drummer for the Sex Pistols and
the Slits. Her self-titled 2011
debut is all-reggae, all-the-time.
Been away from this music for awhile? Let this gently remind you of the pleasure of marinating
your prefrontal cortex in an album’s worth of 4/4 sunshine. It belongs on the shelf next to “Natty Dread”. Two tracks, "Used to Be" and her cover of the Shangri La's "Walking in the Sand" will give you the idea, then you're on your own.
A day late for MLK Day? Maybe
so, but I heard someone refer yesterday to MLK week. By that standard I'm right
on time with these songs that recall the anthems of the Civil Rights
era. When a movement gets music, watch out. Take note OWS.
Nina Simone – How It Feels to Be Free– This came late (in ’67), but Simone came early. Wistful, angry, soulful -- this was Nina.
Sam Cooke - A Change Is Gonna Come. Otis has a fine version, but
this is Sam’s song, a 1963 recording the year before he died. He wanted to write one to rival "Blowin' In the Wind" and he did.
Mavis Staples –
Keep Your Eyes on the Prize – New recording (2007) from her masterful "We'll Never Turn Back", songs from and about the movement. Ry Cooder arranging and playing.
Mahalia Jackson
– Keep Your Hand on the Plow – I couldn't resist this. It supplied the melody for “Eyes on
the Prize” but listen to the joy in this version by Mahalia, the first gospel
singer I ever heard.