You may have an idea in your head of what minimalist music is like. I had one, too. My friend and I would joke about 4′33″ and although we treated it as something of a joke, comparing stories of different performances, it would be nice to say we understood what the whole thing was about. We didn't. We assumed it was a musical joke, and it was only later that I realised that there was a purpose behind the composition, and while it may not have [harmony], [melody] or [rhythm], there was intent to produce meaning, and such intent alone is sufficient to produce a work of art, as long as you're in on the joke.
I'm drifting... let's get back to the popular perception of minimalism with Philip Glass. He's not unknown, and most mentions of Glass focus generally on the repetitive quality of his more-repetitive works. South Park featured a spookily-accurate rendition of Philip Glass at one point, making fun of Einstein On The Beach, with dense arpeggios and the sustained, pumping chords that Glass often uses. It was a pleasure, many years ago, to meet someone who was familiar with Philip Glass. 'Oh, yeah,' he said casually. 'We'd get stoned and each do a different bit. One of us would do the 'biddly-biddly' up and down parts, someone else would do the 'pah pah pah-pah-pah' bits and the other person would recite important sounding snippets over the top.' I wished to take part, in my heart of hearts, and not just for the chance to try some drugs...
I'm listening to Steve Reich as we speak, having reached his music through a tortuous series of steps involving Sufjan Stevens. A colleague was torturing some children with excessively repetitive background music as they read quietly, and my ears pricked up. 'What is it?' I asked, and the reply 'Sue Fjarn-Stephens' did nothing to illuminate me as to this new, obviously Finnish composer. A little research later, and several hundred previews of various songs on iTunes, and it turned out I didn't really like Sufjan Stevens at all; I'd just hit on the one song that was really evocative of Steve Reich and that was the true holy grail. I continued to seek...
Music For 18 Musicians is what I discovered. Repetitive beyond words, but endlessly changing. Organic, rhythmic and reminiscent of Musica Poetica by Carl Orff. Hints of Glass, and hints of Orff combine into something wonderful. Pianos phase, and metallophones chime, and human voices repeatedly vocalise.
Music For Eighteen Musicians was composed by Steve Reich between 1974 and 1976. It's as old as me. It's based around a cycle of eleven chords, and it's beautiful.
29 November 2013
Black Cherry
Having spent considerable time and effort carving a niche for themselves as creators of soothing, chilled melodies - in fact, having become best known for the track Lovely Head, snapped up by British mobile phone companies for a range of adverts - Black Cherry, the second album by Mute-signed band Goldfrapp came as a bit of a surprise.
From the first, grinding electronic note of Crystalline Green, it was clear that Black Cherry was very, very different to Felt Mountain, something hinted at by Goldfrapp's occasional foray into gritty electronica during their live shows. Disco-dirty versions of Olivia Newton-John's Physical and Baccara's Yes Sir, I Can Boogie - stripped down and instilled with a bizarre, new charm - hinted at Goldfrapp's descent into Dot Allison style territory, a new, synthetic sound that would continue with the third album, Supernature.
Other tracks on the album played with the electronic theme. Train was a perfect tribute to glam rock, but eschewed guitars in favour of rumbling sawtooth synths and a pumping, twisted bass-line. A calmer period followed, in which the title track Black Cherry brought back memories of Felt Mountain's calmer, more ambient feel. The only other track, incidentally, to do this, is Hairy Trees.
And if Train and Crystalline Green weren't enough to convince you of how serious Goldfrapp were about this new direction, then the tracks Twist, Strict Machine and Slippage were bound to cement the idea in your mind. Twist, in particular, was as dirty as Nine Inch Nails' Closer but without the obscenity: a track the tabloids would undoubtedly describe as raunchy - a plain and simple ode to the pleasures of oral sex.
Black Cherry was released by Mute Records on the 28th April, 2003. Wonderful electric...
From the first, grinding electronic note of Crystalline Green, it was clear that Black Cherry was very, very different to Felt Mountain, something hinted at by Goldfrapp's occasional foray into gritty electronica during their live shows. Disco-dirty versions of Olivia Newton-John's Physical and Baccara's Yes Sir, I Can Boogie - stripped down and instilled with a bizarre, new charm - hinted at Goldfrapp's descent into Dot Allison style territory, a new, synthetic sound that would continue with the third album, Supernature.
Other tracks on the album played with the electronic theme. Train was a perfect tribute to glam rock, but eschewed guitars in favour of rumbling sawtooth synths and a pumping, twisted bass-line. A calmer period followed, in which the title track Black Cherry brought back memories of Felt Mountain's calmer, more ambient feel. The only other track, incidentally, to do this, is Hairy Trees.
And if Train and Crystalline Green weren't enough to convince you of how serious Goldfrapp were about this new direction, then the tracks Twist, Strict Machine and Slippage were bound to cement the idea in your mind. Twist, in particular, was as dirty as Nine Inch Nails' Closer but without the obscenity: a track the tabloids would undoubtedly describe as raunchy - a plain and simple ode to the pleasures of oral sex.
Black Cherry was released by Mute Records on the 28th April, 2003. Wonderful electric...
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