Tag Archives: reviews

Favorite Music Reviews: A New Series (hopefully the City Paper won’t steal my idea this time)

Earlier today, I tried starting a blog post series of my favorite–note, not best–songs. The first one was going to be Reverend Gary Davis’ I am the Light of this World (which would have been followed by about eight other Davis songs; I sweat him hard), but the limits of blog software led me to a cup of coffee instead. In this spirit, I launch a new series of Favorite Music Reviews, of which this post is the first.

For the record, most music reviews make me sick. (seriously; I’ve had a near panic attack over one in particular; ask SF). In fact, my own album ratings is an ironic and functional spin on the review process, where thoughtless albums receive a tremendous amount of column space and incredible albums register only a few gazillion hits on Google. Furthermore, the only music critic who does not make me want to throw my Internet out the window is Sasha Frere-Jones, and even he decides to write about inconsequentials such as Neko Case.

Nonetheless, about once every decade, there is a music review that I find so absurdly great that I put it on my fridge, mental or physical. To these reviews, I dedicate this series. Typically, my favorite reviews are those that are ruthless (in either a positive or negative manner), to the point, and demonstrate a wide knowledge of music without coming off as clever. People who know me, know that I feel CMJ reviews are the antithesis of this.

The first is Richard Gott’s Liberation Music, which appeared in the March 12, 2009, issue of London Review of Books. Now, Gott’s article is great, but it’s not his work that ranks him in my favorite music reviews. No, it is who he quotes. Specifically, I am keen on a Rodney Bennett review of a January 1960 performance:

It took time, though, for the new experimental music to be widely accepted in London. Cardew and Tilbury had played pieces by Feldman and Cage at a concert at the Conway Hall in January 1960, and Rodney Bennett, who was present, recalled that the audience of 70 sat ‘transfixed with gloom’ while the two pianists produced, slowly and laboriously, ‘a series of small tired noises, not violent, not beautiful, not exciting, not even remotely interesting: the whole effect as soporific as an evening spent listening to the complete Methodist Hymnal’.

The entire article is filled with these sorts of gem, and I encourage some of you to read the entire piece.

Orange You Tired of Bad Oranges?

When was the last time you had a good orange? Go ahead, comment.

Out of my most recent bunch, one of the five were good (but not great), and that is better than usual. I have not had an excellent orange in years.

Is something happening to our orange supply? Am I choosing the wrong type of oranges (usually Naval, but not always)?

Today, someone recommended I try Blood Oranges, because “they’re the best oranges!” Coincidentally, KL encouraged me to buy a Blood Orange tree, so we could trade citrus (my research on the matter is still pending).

During the last few months I have also been disappointed in apples. On the flip side, Ecuadorian organic bananas have been incredible but difficult to time due to their short window of proper ripeness.

Rock Has No Soul, But Does It Have Flow?

Thanks to an incredibly generous HD, I was able to see Vampire Weekend when they played Rock ‘n’ Roll Hotel in early February. Given all the hype, I expected them to both bore and hurt, but I was surprised (yeah, yeah, the album is on my To Listen list).

I thoroughly enjoyed the show, but quickly noticed two aspects of the band. First, they are clearly young. Their sound is bare and minimalist (but not in the good German way), needing to expand, be filled in, and evolve past the rather simple structure of each of their songs. That part’s doable and standard.

The other issue, though, is that the lead singer (Ezra Koenig) has no flow. All of their songs are delivered in the same monotone post-Brit pop way. While the nasality of it all is loved by the birds and very trendy, the lack of tempo, note, and style changes–in other words, flow–is not. Even in the whitest of white genres, indie rock, (good) bands usually have lead singers with a bit of flow. And those outstanding bands have lead singers with amazing flow. In this latter case, the best example I can think of is Karen O, who uses incredible significant and nuanced vocal/flow changes within a song, between songs, and across albums (Admission: I listen to the entire YYYs discography once every 36 hours, on average).

It would be difficult to argue that flow does not matter to all music with vocals, but we rarely think, hear, read, or write about its importance outside of hip hop. At best, there is mention of the singer’s voice, but that usually has to do with energy, clarity, and pitch, not the more general but also more specific notion of flow. So here’s my purely rhetorical question: Why?