Archives : all posts by Sean

Nina Simone has died. She will be missed so very much. With the exception of Billie Holiday, no other jazz singer ever approached such heights. "Little Girl Blue" is one of the marvels of the 20th Century: so very strange, sad, and small.

rest in peace.

I was in a car the other day (which is a rare occurrence for me), and lo-and-behold, the new Blur single came onto the radio. I had listened to Think Tank, which I didn't like much, but I was loathe to discover that the most atrocious song on the record - "Crazy Beat" - was the one that the label had selected as lead single. From the squelching vocoded chorus to the pedestrian indie-in-the-club verses, yikes! I don't know what I would have chosen as fit-for-radio, but it certainly wouldn't be that monster. It's too bad that my favourites on the album - "Sweet Song" and "Out of Time" - are too mellow to be chart-toppers. "Out of Time" spreads sad-sack Albarn vocals over a muted Beck-like guitarline. I particularly like the weird sounds and conversation in the background. "Sweet Song," meanwhile, is simply pretty. Slightly sad - felt piano notes and soothing oohs - but still many steps away from Sarah McLachlan kitsch. Very much like The Reindeer Section or Archer Prewitt or something. And Blur makes it sound so easy.

Cat Power was breathtaking. We got there early enough to nab great seats, and went on to watch perhaps the finest (and certainly the most punctual) concert I've ever seen. Far from being the disaster/therapy-session Cat Power shows are renowned for, Chan Marshall played for almost two-and-a-half nonstop hours, performing with soul, spirit, and a touch of grief. Highlights included an altogether different (richer, fuller) version of "I Don't Blame You," and a elegiac cover of "Knocking on Heaven's Door." She closed with a White Stripes tune, but even that was terrific.

(The opener, Entrance, who did a Devendra Banhart-meets-Led Zeppelin schtick, on the other hand, stunk to high heaven.)

The major labels are reporting another significant drop in CD sales in 2002. Sales have declined 5 or 7% each year for the past three. This is a big deal. Economist Stan Liebowitz argued last year that there was not yet evidence suggesting any significant effect of file-sharing on CD sales, but as each year passes and sales continue to drop, the evidence points more and more to consumer piracy being a problem. Though I (and most of my friends) use P2P for sampling purposes, and continue to buy records, I certainly know many people who are buying next to zero albums.

This article in the Christian Science Monitor suggests that the indies are making money, however. It's got no metadata from CIRPA or other indie-label groups - for all we know, the majority of indies could be reporting losses - but the article paints things in a happy light. If savvy indepenent labels are indeed making money - and by saving precisely the costs that make the majors so horrible - then I'm really happy. I'm not one of those who is opposed to the concept of a record label: I think they are valuable institutions through which artists may gain support, exposure and resources for their music. That said, I loathe the habits of many (particularly major) labels, who waste so much money on CEO salaries, limos, videos, and radio-play, at the expense of artist development and musical integrity. The artists suffer - in debt to their label, the victims of creative veto. The public suffers - artists aren't fostered, they're simply mined for hits.

Still, I don't hope that P2P obliterates the world's record labels (or the ability for artists to make money through recordings). I've long been an advocate of a flat-tax on computers, burners, internet and recordable media, as a way of helping artists to cope with P2P-related losses. (Similar things have already been instituted in Canada - blank tape levies as the trade-off for home taping.) Though it's perhaps not an enormous issue today, within ten years, the files you download will likely be absolutely identical to the product you might purchase: we need to address KazAa's challenge before it's a crisis. If frugal indie labels (and thus, their artists) are making money regardless of file-sharing, this is doubly great; anything that helps to sustain quality career musicians, whose work is being appreciated, is worthwhile.

a few days ago, my roommate A (who is from winnipeg), walked in and asked me if I had heard of a band called "manitoba." I had. She had just learned that they (or rather, he) existed, and was very very amused, being from manitoba herself. "a band called manitoba!" she said.

a day or two later i was reading ilm and stumbled across a thread in which everyone was going absolutely crazy for the new manitoba record. my memories of manitoba were fuzzy (vague shades of Boards of Canada and my typically ambivalent response to organic laptop music). nevertheless, the enthusiasm of the usually grumpy ilm'ers was enough to spark my interest. to p2p i went.

and what i found was Up in Flames. people had been referencing My Bloody Valentine and Spiritualised, but this thing is better than that wankery. it's noisy and warm and pop and electronic and gee-whiz-wow! I hear Hood and The Notwist and heart-on-sleeve Cornelius... echoes of Broken Social Scene, Mum (but better), The Books, and yes yes yes The Beatles and the Beach Boys. the drums are as oo-er as people had said, and the songs are listenable! listenable! like - radio-style listenable! singable! danceable! lovable!

needless to say, Up in Flames + Loaded has made for a wonderful week. Cheap Thrills had no copies of the Manitoba record, and HMV was selling them for $23 +tx (eek). I went a-browsing on cheap cds, and, thanks to one-click-shopping, ordered a copy without realizing what i had done. oh well. (also: hooray!)

Yo La Tengo's 2003 WFMU covers telethon can be downloaded (in bite-sized mp3s) here. Every year, the band takes requests from one and all and performs them (well or poorly), via radio/webcast, in support of the station.

I've never been able to find a cut-up version, before; and was loathe to listen to the whole thing through. This is great (particularly Barry White's "Can't Get Enough of Your Love Babe"), but it's a classic example of generation gap. How many of these 28 songs do I know? I mean know. Um.

Eight.

[via chromewaves]

Looking at that last post of mine, I realize how much I sound like a buffoon. This blogging thing is new to me, so I'm not sure if the blown-up, pretentious flourishes are due to a) literary tendencies, b) growing pains as I adjust to proper blogging tone, or c) a reflection of the pompous ass that I truly am. Methinks the latter.

I wonder what piano tuners listen to at home. Complicated Bach fugues, where a multitude of notes weave around each other, in complex and perfect harmonies? Or do they sit in dark rooms with the blinds pulled, pieces by Morton Feldman or Schoenburg at high volume: gloriously dissonant, where nothing ever sounds right, and all that order undoes itself.

Our guy looked like he was probably a fan of Bruce Springsteen or Roch Voisine.