Today has been a good day. Why?
1. I went to the hairdresser and it turned out very well.
2. Though last night has made my throat soar and I've found out that you shouldn't drink cider unless you aren't going to bed anytime soon, lots of relaxation and sleep has saved my head from aching.
3. I've dived into my iTunes and dug out some old favourites from last year.
Spring in Denmark this year is weird - really weird - this week we had snow. Snow in May! that's a definite first. Also, the weather this month has been sunny and 20 degrees, combined with rain, 5 degrees and lots of wind. Slightly frustrating but nice in the way that it keeps you pumped for spring. It's coming!
Spring last year reminds me of three bands and I've rediscovered them all today - they might not be as fresh as they were last year but they certainly haven't lost much charm.
First up are Dirty Projectors. Bitte Orca was definitely an extremely fine record and I was slightly disappointed to find out that DP weren't coming to Way Out West or Denmark. But as things have turned out, I might get to see them live this summer. For the first time ever I'm going to Roskilde Festival, the biggest and boldest festival in Denmark. I'm both excited and nervous - so much needs to be sorted out - but every time I think or watching Dirty Projectors play a track like the one above at a (hopefully) sunbathed festival-site makes me smile and forget about all my anxiety.
I have a very clear picture in my head of walking in my hometown in beaming sunshine while listening to "Black Rainbow" from St. Vicent's "Actor" album. But though that particular track holds a weirdly important yet meaningless memory for me, "Marrow" still stands out to this day. It's such an amazing track - and in this abouve video, probably my favourite TV performance by anyone last year, it takes on epic proportions. The bass saxophones completely make it.
During the more quiet moments of last year Grizzly Bear were an infinite soundtrack. They are the kind of band you can devote a day to and then only listen to them for a good while. Veckatimest didn't impress me as much as I wanted it to but that's probably because I hold Yellow House oh, so dear. But as the months have gone by, Veckatimest has grown on me. As a rule of thumb I tend to lose respect for bands when they help out on a Twilight soundtrack - but really, all things considered, it doesn't matter when the music is this good. Above is another Letterman performance of great excellence.
lørdag den 8. maj 2010
lørdag den 24. april 2010
Gig review: The Hidden Cameras, Voxhall
For a number of reasons, I don't really do reviews. Firstly, I have never been satisfied with any review I've written - there's always more to be said, more to be revised and often I might change my mind halfway through or shortly after I've written the review. Secondly I don't like being a bad guy - I dislike reviewers and their endless star-giving and rating systems. It's impossible to make an objective review - don't deny, it is - so often it just seems pointless to judge a record or a gig. You can say what you think but it will rarely be valuable for anyone but you and the people who know your taste. So why exactly am I trying a review now? because I feel I need to. For my own and other people's sake. This particular gig was reviewed by the Danish music magazine GAFFA - but I really don't feel like they did it any justice. So while I still remember the details, here we go:
I've been to many gigs at the Voxhall venue. Not because I particularly like it as a venue, more because they simply have the most good bands playing. It's located in Aarhus, a one-hour drive from my hometown. The gigs I've attended there have all been very different - from a calm indiepop gig with Camera Obscura (where the most exciting thing to really happen was when a drunk Irishman suddenly decided to invade the stage) to the noisy darkness of The Horrors and their many, many fangirls. I expected this gig to be something quite special - for weeks I wondered what the crowd would be like and if there would even be one. Because let's face it - not many people, not even in Denmark's next-largest city, know Canada's most sexually broad-minded cabaret outfit. If I wasn't the nerd that I am, I certainly wouldn't have heard about them either. But I'd heard stuff about their live shows - maybe even seen a YouTube video of them playing live while being blindfolded - and for reasons inscrutable their latest album 'Origin:Orphan' ended up being one of my favourite albums last year. This was a gig not to be missed, even if I was going to be the only person in the audience.
Well, at least I wasn't going to be completely alone. My gig buddy agreed to go with me and we arrived as soon as the doors of the venue were open. From the beginning it seemed to be a different gig for Voxhall - the ticket collector seemed to try and tell me indirectly that nobody would be coming tonight - as he told that the only fun he was going to have was when checking my ticket. Incredibly, a group of about five, sort-of normal-looking women had also found their way to the venue (and the bar). So we weren't going to be completely alone, my friend and I.
As the time went by a few more people showed up - each of them looking completely different from what I would expect. No flamboyant gays or young, indie-curious people like myself. Just plain, "normal" people, some old, some young(er). It was a weird gathering.
That didn't stop the support band from being an interesting acquaintance though. Dressed in all white, the Danish band Men Among Animals were an all dancing, all clapping, all tambourine-playing slice of niceness. Their greatness made me wonder if some of the audience members were only there to see them. As things look now, though, I remember very little about their appearance. Compared to the headliners, their performance became an experience of parenthetical proportions.
As my friend and I were asked to jump down from the stage (it is preferred place to sit when waiting, you know) and a blue certain hid the stage, the excitement began building up for real. And it was awarded, as a few more people found their way to the floor of the venue and my friend and I didn't feel that alone anymore. The background music stopped playing - a blue light appeared from behind the curtain - and suddenly the gig started. Behind the curtain, the dramatic opener of the before-mentioned album's title track crept up and few moments later the curtain was pulled away and a band appeared, consisting of seven members, carrying such instruments as keyboards, bass, guitar, drums, cello and trumpet. This wasn't traditional, this was special. And the first thing leading man Joel Gibb had to tell the audience? "Kom nærmere". Yes, that'll be "come closer" in Danish. While the audience might normally stay a little away from the stage when the supporting band is playing, everyone except my friend and I (we do have a front-row tradition - why wouldn't we?), they still kept a distance between themselves and the stage at this point. They came a little closer - and from then on it became obvious that no matter how into the audience was or wasn't, the band was going to give it everything anyway.
After the dramatic beginning, the band geared down a little - playing the b-side 'Pencil Case' secondly and then proceeding into another track from 'Origin:Orphan' followed by the old single 'Awoo'. That's where it started for me - the weird feeling of witnessing something spectacular, something special. The cellist started dancing, throwing himself around while energetically playing his unhandy instrument and the trumpet player challenged him. Then the cellist challenged the singer and his guitar. It was like watching a great duel - for many of the songs, at least one or two band members had something going on that wasn't just playing their instrument. Jumping, dancing, singing or just fooling around. Then they played a track loaded with screaming (which I have yet to decipher what was) and throwing each other around, the trumpet player once being on the floor while holding onto the cellist's leg. Joel Gibb comes off as a mad preacher, a genius of theatrics, songwriting skills and general silliness. The Hidden Cameras don't take themselves too seriously and as the gig progressed, my friend turned to me and said "this beats everything!", only to a few moments later approach me to say that he thinks they're about to do the "blindfold thing". They were indeed, because - as their leader put it - they needed an eyebreak ("as recommended every 24 minutes"). They put on a lovely rendition of "Smells like Happiness" and then let their eyes see "beautiful Danish people" again for an energetic version of 'In The NA', the silliest song from 'Origin:Orphan'. The preacher said 'Tak, Aarhus' numerous times, hid behind his amplifiers and shouted things in a language I couldn't figure out what was. Then he jumped around and got pulled around by his trumpet player during 'The Little Bit', before jumping from the stage and approaching random audience members to sing the 'uuuh' part of the song with him. An internal group dance was introduced during 'Underage', making for even more of the many joyous laughs I'd had the pleasure of going through during the evening. The keyboardist Laura then had a few instructions for the last song on the setlist and decided to give us these in, well, Danish. The audience had to do, yes, a dance - and while a such thing would normally make it shiver down my spine with horror, it seemed amazingly appropriate. As if you were a part of the band, having fun, here and now. The band returned, all jumping for the pumping 'Ban Marriage' and then they were gone again. The tiny audience kept clapping, though, and the band returned once again for a different version of the very same song that opened their set. Weirdly appropriate and suddenly it was all over. Though the sad remains didn't include confetti or fireworks, it certainly felt like it. It was a party for the few, invited people and it was the kind of experience that made you wish you could hire a band to play for you every day. I certainly wouldn't mind having my own Hidden Cameras to entertain after a boring school day. Oh, and did I mention it all sounded bloody good?
I've been to many gigs at the Voxhall venue. Not because I particularly like it as a venue, more because they simply have the most good bands playing. It's located in Aarhus, a one-hour drive from my hometown. The gigs I've attended there have all been very different - from a calm indiepop gig with Camera Obscura (where the most exciting thing to really happen was when a drunk Irishman suddenly decided to invade the stage) to the noisy darkness of The Horrors and their many, many fangirls. I expected this gig to be something quite special - for weeks I wondered what the crowd would be like and if there would even be one. Because let's face it - not many people, not even in Denmark's next-largest city, know Canada's most sexually broad-minded cabaret outfit. If I wasn't the nerd that I am, I certainly wouldn't have heard about them either. But I'd heard stuff about their live shows - maybe even seen a YouTube video of them playing live while being blindfolded - and for reasons inscrutable their latest album 'Origin:Orphan' ended up being one of my favourite albums last year. This was a gig not to be missed, even if I was going to be the only person in the audience.
Well, at least I wasn't going to be completely alone. My gig buddy agreed to go with me and we arrived as soon as the doors of the venue were open. From the beginning it seemed to be a different gig for Voxhall - the ticket collector seemed to try and tell me indirectly that nobody would be coming tonight - as he told that the only fun he was going to have was when checking my ticket. Incredibly, a group of about five, sort-of normal-looking women had also found their way to the venue (and the bar). So we weren't going to be completely alone, my friend and I.
As the time went by a few more people showed up - each of them looking completely different from what I would expect. No flamboyant gays or young, indie-curious people like myself. Just plain, "normal" people, some old, some young(er). It was a weird gathering.
That didn't stop the support band from being an interesting acquaintance though. Dressed in all white, the Danish band Men Among Animals were an all dancing, all clapping, all tambourine-playing slice of niceness. Their greatness made me wonder if some of the audience members were only there to see them. As things look now, though, I remember very little about their appearance. Compared to the headliners, their performance became an experience of parenthetical proportions.
As my friend and I were asked to jump down from the stage (it is preferred place to sit when waiting, you know) and a blue certain hid the stage, the excitement began building up for real. And it was awarded, as a few more people found their way to the floor of the venue and my friend and I didn't feel that alone anymore. The background music stopped playing - a blue light appeared from behind the curtain - and suddenly the gig started. Behind the curtain, the dramatic opener of the before-mentioned album's title track crept up and few moments later the curtain was pulled away and a band appeared, consisting of seven members, carrying such instruments as keyboards, bass, guitar, drums, cello and trumpet. This wasn't traditional, this was special. And the first thing leading man Joel Gibb had to tell the audience? "Kom nærmere". Yes, that'll be "come closer" in Danish. While the audience might normally stay a little away from the stage when the supporting band is playing, everyone except my friend and I (we do have a front-row tradition - why wouldn't we?), they still kept a distance between themselves and the stage at this point. They came a little closer - and from then on it became obvious that no matter how into the audience was or wasn't, the band was going to give it everything anyway.
After the dramatic beginning, the band geared down a little - playing the b-side 'Pencil Case' secondly and then proceeding into another track from 'Origin:Orphan' followed by the old single 'Awoo'. That's where it started for me - the weird feeling of witnessing something spectacular, something special. The cellist started dancing, throwing himself around while energetically playing his unhandy instrument and the trumpet player challenged him. Then the cellist challenged the singer and his guitar. It was like watching a great duel - for many of the songs, at least one or two band members had something going on that wasn't just playing their instrument. Jumping, dancing, singing or just fooling around. Then they played a track loaded with screaming (which I have yet to decipher what was) and throwing each other around, the trumpet player once being on the floor while holding onto the cellist's leg. Joel Gibb comes off as a mad preacher, a genius of theatrics, songwriting skills and general silliness. The Hidden Cameras don't take themselves too seriously and as the gig progressed, my friend turned to me and said "this beats everything!", only to a few moments later approach me to say that he thinks they're about to do the "blindfold thing". They were indeed, because - as their leader put it - they needed an eyebreak ("as recommended every 24 minutes"). They put on a lovely rendition of "Smells like Happiness" and then let their eyes see "beautiful Danish people" again for an energetic version of 'In The NA', the silliest song from 'Origin:Orphan'. The preacher said 'Tak, Aarhus' numerous times, hid behind his amplifiers and shouted things in a language I couldn't figure out what was. Then he jumped around and got pulled around by his trumpet player during 'The Little Bit', before jumping from the stage and approaching random audience members to sing the 'uuuh' part of the song with him. An internal group dance was introduced during 'Underage', making for even more of the many joyous laughs I'd had the pleasure of going through during the evening. The keyboardist Laura then had a few instructions for the last song on the setlist and decided to give us these in, well, Danish. The audience had to do, yes, a dance - and while a such thing would normally make it shiver down my spine with horror, it seemed amazingly appropriate. As if you were a part of the band, having fun, here and now. The band returned, all jumping for the pumping 'Ban Marriage' and then they were gone again. The tiny audience kept clapping, though, and the band returned once again for a different version of the very same song that opened their set. Weirdly appropriate and suddenly it was all over. Though the sad remains didn't include confetti or fireworks, it certainly felt like it. It was a party for the few, invited people and it was the kind of experience that made you wish you could hire a band to play for you every day. I certainly wouldn't mind having my own Hidden Cameras to entertain after a boring school day. Oh, and did I mention it all sounded bloody good?
Party is the new loud
As things go, it's been quiet for a while here on the blog. But I'm still going strong and I think I might have regained my inspiration after a month of lovely gigs and general awareness of what a fantastic thing music is. There'll be more on that later. For now, here's a video and song I have become quite fond of over the last week. As the title of this blog post suggests, it is indeed a way of trying to get this blog up and going again - with a party, making it go from quiet to loud. (Sorry, this is the last time I'll try to be clever.)
søndag den 7. marts 2010
2009 revisited (possibly part 1)
So now we're in March and I have yet to finish my post on 2009. I doubt it will ever be done - I began writing it but at the moment I just don't have the discipline to sit down and go through all the music that shaped last year and I have no idea when I'll have the possibility to do that (probably at a time where it isn't relevant at all anymore). Also, I'm not a music journalist - and I haven't listened to all or half of the albums/tracks that came out last year, so I don't know how valuable my opinion would be.
Strangely, though, I have actually revisited some of the music that reminds of 2009 lately. Part of the reason is surely that I'm finally feeling spring coming up - the snow is slowly melting, the sun is shining and bird song can be heard in the distance. When things like these happen I feel like reversing time and re-experiencing all the niceness of last year's spring and summer. A couple of other things though - like the big math test I'll have to cope with on Thursday - puts me in a strangely melancholic and sigh-inducing place. Camera Obscura match perfectly with that cocktail as the joyful sound of their catchy pop sound makes me smile and their forever yearning lyrics make me sad.
fredag den 19. februar 2010
Guilty pleasures
I know people who say you can't have guilty pleasures (when it comes to music) and I know people who basically aren't aware of the term's existence. Also, I know people like myself, who do feel slightly ashamed of liking certain music. For me this isn't really a fact of me being embarrassed because of the music I like, more it is I unexpectedly enjoy something that I would normally consider below the quality level of the other music I listen to. Sometimes I really like music that I feel is a bit, well, "crappy" or "cheap-sounding". What music am I talking about? the less shameful examples include:
I've been trying to convince myself otherwise for a long time now but I still cannot deny the fact that this song is a very catchy and excellently executed piece of pop music. Whenever it's played on the radio I can't help but turn up the volume and sing along, while goofily continuing whatever I'm doing (whether that's taking a shower, brushing my teeth or washing my face - yes, our radio is indeed in the bath room). I've got quite a love-hate relationship with Lady Gaga's other singles and I don't like any of them half as much as I like this one. Sadly, I've yet to actually hear it played at a party but when it happens I'll be doing my thing.
The last time I saw the amazing Owen Pallett live (that's another story), the main character of a magical evening (the supporting names were Lightspeed Champion, Sam Amidon, Nico Muhly and Beth Orton... yes, wow indeed) entered the stage while miming and singing along to this song while setting up his equipment. Strangely, it has given this song a whole new dimension to me. I don't particularly like Alicia Keys and I never have, though I definitely recognize the fact that she's got talent. Somehow all things seem to come together with this track - the heavy beat (which definitely makes the song for me), the heartache lyrics and the glossy video combined equal a fairly fine pop song that gets stuck in your head and refuses to leave.
Is Jay-Z bad? I don't know. I usually don't listen to rap or hip-hop - I believe there's something good in every genre, yet I just haven't really found anything in that area that made an impact on me. It's been months since the last time I heard this song but in the media lately there's been a heavy debate about the use of Autotune in the recent series of the X Factor (a programme that sometimes also turns out to be a bit of a guilty pleasure entertainment wise - even though I absolutely hate it with a passion) and it made me think of this track that I never really listened to enough when I found out about it. Back then I heard it on the radio once and thought 'this isn't bad actually... and I quite like its message'. So, I gave it a re-listen and I still think it's really damn cool.
What these three tracks have in common is the fact that in the long run they'll probably drive me crazy and I'll hate them just as much as I tend to hate lots of other mainstream pop music. Only they haven't reached that state yet - and I'm glad they haven't, there's nothing worse (there most certainly is but you get my point) than listening to the radio when there's nothing you secretly enjoy.
I've been trying to convince myself otherwise for a long time now but I still cannot deny the fact that this song is a very catchy and excellently executed piece of pop music. Whenever it's played on the radio I can't help but turn up the volume and sing along, while goofily continuing whatever I'm doing (whether that's taking a shower, brushing my teeth or washing my face - yes, our radio is indeed in the bath room). I've got quite a love-hate relationship with Lady Gaga's other singles and I don't like any of them half as much as I like this one. Sadly, I've yet to actually hear it played at a party but when it happens I'll be doing my thing.
The last time I saw the amazing Owen Pallett live (that's another story), the main character of a magical evening (the supporting names were Lightspeed Champion, Sam Amidon, Nico Muhly and Beth Orton... yes, wow indeed) entered the stage while miming and singing along to this song while setting up his equipment. Strangely, it has given this song a whole new dimension to me. I don't particularly like Alicia Keys and I never have, though I definitely recognize the fact that she's got talent. Somehow all things seem to come together with this track - the heavy beat (which definitely makes the song for me), the heartache lyrics and the glossy video combined equal a fairly fine pop song that gets stuck in your head and refuses to leave.
Is Jay-Z bad? I don't know. I usually don't listen to rap or hip-hop - I believe there's something good in every genre, yet I just haven't really found anything in that area that made an impact on me. It's been months since the last time I heard this song but in the media lately there's been a heavy debate about the use of Autotune in the recent series of the X Factor (a programme that sometimes also turns out to be a bit of a guilty pleasure entertainment wise - even though I absolutely hate it with a passion) and it made me think of this track that I never really listened to enough when I found out about it. Back then I heard it on the radio once and thought 'this isn't bad actually... and I quite like its message'. So, I gave it a re-listen and I still think it's really damn cool.
What these three tracks have in common is the fact that in the long run they'll probably drive me crazy and I'll hate them just as much as I tend to hate lots of other mainstream pop music. Only they haven't reached that state yet - and I'm glad they haven't, there's nothing worse (there most certainly is but you get my point) than listening to the radio when there's nothing you secretly enjoy.
lørdag den 13. februar 2010
Michel is back!
Michel Gondry is not just my favourite music video director, he is one of my all-time favourite people. Whenever something new shows up from him it is quickly confirmed what an inexhaustible imagination and mind this man has. Or should I say boy? there's a documentary about him out there carrying the name 'I've Been 12 Forever' and it certainly fits with his playful and childish approach to things. His aesthetics often come off as amateurish, maybe even a bit cheap - but that's only because he uses such simple and old school tricks to create visually compelling movies and videos unlike anything else.
Lately, the Frenchman with the awesome mind hasn't been much in the limelight - especially not on the music video side of things. But a little while ago something new finally showed up. While the song isn't really my cup of tea, the video still manages to fit it perfectly through its simple, yet effective, fresh and fun theme. It's been compared to a Sony Bravia ad and I've always quite liked those, so that's only a good thing. Also, it's good to know Monsieur Gondry is still going strong.
fredag den 12. februar 2010
This is the new thing, apparently: vinyl and blood galore
Hmm, musicians act weirdly these days. While the far-too-talked-about subject of illegal downloading and sharing of music keeps pushing the creaters and artists towards interesting new directions when releasing their music, some definitely seem more intriguing and thought-provoking than others. Examples? here are a couple.
Parenthetical Girls - Privilege
I'd heard a bit about these artpoppers releasing a new album, and that significant cover art has certainly popped up a few times lately, when I've been searching for other things. But it wasn't until later on, ie. a few days ago, that I actually found out about how this album was going to be released. There's a concept: a series of EPs released throughout 15 months, concluding with the fifth in May 2011 and in the end making an album. Also, physically, the album will only be available on vinyl. Limited to 500 copies from the band's own website... oh, and did I mention that these 500 copies will be hand-numbered by a band member in their own blood?
I guess that's supposed to be the interesting part, yet I'm much more tempted by the idea of slowly releasing an album this way. Nobody will know the exact flow, mood or general direction of the album until a year after the first part of it is released. I'm ready for the patience, because this could definitely become quite an interesting series to follow.
Xiu Xiu - Dear God, I Hate Myself
My relationship with Xiu Xiu is a little complicated, not to say non-existent. While I neither love nor dislike the few songs of theirs that I've heard (the one above was stuck in my head for an entire day last week), there's just something weird, really weird about them that makes me turn away and be intimidated by the thought of listening to more of their stuff. The idea of them releasing an album called 'Dear God, I Hate Myself' and making that above video certainly doesn't make them seem more appealing. Like many other bands do these days to make people want a physical copy of their album, Xiu Xiu release a special edition, limited to 100 deluxe vinyl copies. These all come with handmade chocolate(!), possibly relating to the fact that the album features a song called 'Chocolate Makes You Happy', and 21 of them a handmade shirt with 'Xiu Xiu for life' written on it in real blood. Apparently blood is the new black when it comes to making your record interesting... hmm. Still, I'm not convinced as in whether Xiu Xiu are genius or just plain weird but I guess it'll come. Whenever I've had a love/hate relationship with a piece of music it has mostly turned into a straight love or hate relationship a little later on. And 'Dear God, I Hate Myself' is in that position now, so I'll just have to wait and see.
Parenthetical Girls - Privilege
I'd heard a bit about these artpoppers releasing a new album, and that significant cover art has certainly popped up a few times lately, when I've been searching for other things. But it wasn't until later on, ie. a few days ago, that I actually found out about how this album was going to be released. There's a concept: a series of EPs released throughout 15 months, concluding with the fifth in May 2011 and in the end making an album. Also, physically, the album will only be available on vinyl. Limited to 500 copies from the band's own website... oh, and did I mention that these 500 copies will be hand-numbered by a band member in their own blood?
I guess that's supposed to be the interesting part, yet I'm much more tempted by the idea of slowly releasing an album this way. Nobody will know the exact flow, mood or general direction of the album until a year after the first part of it is released. I'm ready for the patience, because this could definitely become quite an interesting series to follow.
Xiu Xiu - Dear God, I Hate Myself
My relationship with Xiu Xiu is a little complicated, not to say non-existent. While I neither love nor dislike the few songs of theirs that I've heard (the one above was stuck in my head for an entire day last week), there's just something weird, really weird about them that makes me turn away and be intimidated by the thought of listening to more of their stuff. The idea of them releasing an album called 'Dear God, I Hate Myself' and making that above video certainly doesn't make them seem more appealing. Like many other bands do these days to make people want a physical copy of their album, Xiu Xiu release a special edition, limited to 100 deluxe vinyl copies. These all come with handmade chocolate(!), possibly relating to the fact that the album features a song called 'Chocolate Makes You Happy', and 21 of them a handmade shirt with 'Xiu Xiu for life' written on it in real blood. Apparently blood is the new black when it comes to making your record interesting... hmm. Still, I'm not convinced as in whether Xiu Xiu are genius or just plain weird but I guess it'll come. Whenever I've had a love/hate relationship with a piece of music it has mostly turned into a straight love or hate relationship a little later on. And 'Dear God, I Hate Myself' is in that position now, so I'll just have to wait and see.
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