Vincent Gallo, P.J. Harvey, John Frusciante, Jim O'Rourke - "Moon River" [live]. Last week, StG-reader Kieran attended Vincent Gallo's show at London's Royal Festival Hall, and then told me about this performance. I knew immediately that I would spend many hours hunting for it. Because I'm like that.

To my astonishment, I found the song. It's a beautiful duet - slow, tentative, vulnerable. Gallo sounds like Chet Baker, Harvey sounds like heartbreak, and Frusciante's solo is surprisingly (and quite beautifully) humble. Everything feels on the verge of breakdown, and yet it's ignoring this, it's trying hard not to care, it's floating with a peaceful smile. The harmony at the end - not right, and yet right - is why we listen to music.

In Kieran's words:
For a man unfairly known first as an egomaniac and second as an actor/model/director/artist/musician, Vincent Gallo makes surprisingly tender, quiet music, such that the cavernous RFH threatened to engulf it. As Gallo admitted, he was used to playing alone, and despite able support from Jim O'Rourke and Steve Shelley, the concert began nervously. ... As Gallo began to wind up the show he mentioned that he had tried to rehearse another song with PJ Harvey and John Frusciante, but that they had been more concerned with going to parties and so hadn't given him their undivided attention and so he was reluctant to perform it. Perhaps it was showmanship, but implored by the crowd's clamorous response, Gallo capitulated and PJ Harvey and John Frusciante made their way to the stage. ... [I]t was evident that the addition of Frusciante and Harvey had taken the focus taken off Gallo enough for him to relax to the immediate benefit of his vocals. Indeed, he even sat down mid-song to allow a kneeling Frusciante the spotlight for his obligatory guitar solo. It may sound under-rehearsed in places, but for a perfectionist such as Gallo this song is a rare unguarded moment, after which (like the best bits of Buffalo 66) you can't help but love him.

On a different note -

DJ Format - "The Hit Song". This was Andrew's favourite hip-hop song of 2003. It's a friendly, smirking track, word fun over a laid-back, Tribe-style groove. Andrew says, Everything just works so well; the effortless drumbeat, the lazy bassline, the careful samples, and most of all the lyrical gimmicks, performed by Abdominal with what can only be described as aplomb. Utterly, utterly brilliant; a dizzying high from a towering album. Me, I just like the part which goes: "once i hit my comfort level / hit record / soon enough we'll have another / hit record". Because it's mid-April and we all deserve to have some fun.

some other things i've been listening to:

Nirvana - In Utero. Is it bad that I keep skipping to the singles? There's such thick, resonating genius in "Pennyroyal Tea," "Rape Me," "Dumb," "All Apologies" and "Heart Shaped Box." The rest just feels like yelling. It makes me sad that someone who made such strong music disappeared the way he did. It's like a storm folding up and falling into a lake. (splash) Nirvana's guitars ring like church bells.

Of Montreal - Satanic Panic In The Attic. Yikes - why is this so whiny? People keep comparing them to The Kinks - but the Kinks would never make music so downright irritating. These are indie popsters who could use some Shins records to help them mellow down. Also, song-titles like "Vegan in Furs" make me want to kill someone (or else treat this like some unsolicited slush-pile crap). And I like Olivia Tremor Control.

Ghostface - Pretty Toney. On my first couple listens, I like "Love" and I love "Save Me Dear". But the rest simply burbles together and doesn't make an impact. (I need hooks in my hip-hop, dammit!) I'll do more listening, though, if only because Mark's so enthused... I'm getting a little tired of epic hip-hop records that have a fair bit of mediocrity (see: Madvillainy).

Modest Mouse - Good News for People Who Love Bad News. "Float On," "Bukowski," "World at Large," and "Blame It On the Tetons" are enough to make this very good. But it's too bad the band didn't cut out their hearts and brains and replace them with pieces of "Float On," because Modest Mouse would be way better if those guitar riffs zoomed down their veins, if those hooks were bouncing in their skulls - in short, if they took some disco dancing lessons.

Zero 7 - When It Falls. Don't look at me like that. This album is incredible, really. We tend to think of musical genres (at least sometimes) as slowly advancing, merging, perfecting older ideas and introducing new ones. Well, When It Falls is like the Omega Point for all downtempo-lounge-trip-hop. In terms of the genre, When It Falls is supreme, untoppable, as good as it gets. It's like some sort of astonishingly advanced weapon's grade technology, like the sort of album we'd be able to make after trading with an incredibly advanced alien civilization. "Warm Sound" makes everything else redundant. No one's going to record a better amalgam of Stereolab, neosoul and mid-90s electronics.

Wilco - A Ghost is Born. At first I loved this record, and then I thought it sucked, and now I'm back loving it again. What I like:

"At Least That's What You Said" remains utterly, blazingly brilliant. I feel like the guitar solo could go on even longer, could climb different ladders through breaks in the cloud, could get burned in different places. This song will be one of those few tracks (by any band) that I will seek out live versions of. (Especially with Nels Cline - sweet jesus!)

the way the guitar at the end of "Muzzle of Bees" sounds to me just like the horns on "Only a Northern Song," only better, truer, and more bravely foregrounded - and yet still far too short;

when Jeff Tweedy sings "and I felt / all right" on "Handshake Drugs";

the way that "Company in my Back" is basically about waiting for the guitar/mandola/thing to flutter in and strike you dumb with beauty;

the chorus of "Hummingbird," higher-pitched than anyone singing wants it to be, but which compels my girlfriend to sing along, full-voiced, joyous (and the fact that the chorus really only happens once, once!). Also, the guitar (?) which sounds like a kazoo;

the rhyme "One two three four five six seven eight nine / Once in Germany someone said 'Nein'";

the tumbling way that the chorus of "Wishful Thinking" appears - a happy inevitability.

Needless to say, there's also crap: I can't get over the deadness of "Spiders (Kidsmoke)," the dance-beat that's there only for artiness, whose aesthetic is one of stasis and aloofness, boredom and a hipper-than-thou yawn (for almost eleven minutes). the 90s britpop guitar bit doesn't save it. also: "late greats"... I appreciate Wilco's desire to do a back-to-basics roots-rock hidden track (and Glenn Kotsche's drums make me want to appreciate the way they do it), but to be honest, there's almost nothing here to care about. The only good bit is when the song suddenly goes away, collapses to dust ("he just looks a little too old"), and we hear the ringing, never-ending piano path into nothingness... (The band has made available a full album stream, here. If you've downloaded the album and want to thank the band, donate to their charity-of-choice here).

holy crap it's almost five AM.

Posted by Sean at April 12, 2004 4:34 AM