I have to admit, it feels a bit strange to write about Michael Jackson, but I think it would be weirder to ignore it. I was never a huge fan, I didn't pay attention to his personal life, I didn't watch that documentary, and I wasn't too shocked to hear of his passing. The sudden outpourings of grief seem a bit unexpected, as well as people criticising others for not being solemn enough. After this, it's not that the jokes aren't funny anymore, but rather that this full stop has made it clear that the tabloid drama of his personal life is utterly insignificant in the face of his originality, his songwriting skills, and the intro to Billie Jean.
Pitchfork's obituary does a rather perfect job of summarising the different sides of the story. I'm going to offer the music video that blew my fragile 6-year old mind in 1991, and still amazes, and a cover of Billie Jean, which is wonderful because it's absolutely straight, and that's the only way to play it.
Australian electronica-ist Pogo has turned his attention to another Disney classic, and it's rather good. Here's another mp3 made out of Alice in Wonderland, which is appropriate considering the pictures of Tim Burton's adaptation have recently surfaced, and look very very slightly over the top.
The way he sings this song, right from the start, is like he's beside you. It's something you understand immediately, like some familiar feeling, like hiding inside your favourite warm jacket, pulling the softened sleeves long over your fingers, digging your chin into your collar for warmth. That's all this song tries to be, something to keep us warm, something to take the edge off the cold, showing you the kind of comfort that comes from other people.
The curl of the guitar being tuned up, the rustling of lyric sheets - these are little signs to show that nothing is being dressed up here, it's as plain and as honest as any song. That's why it works, that's why it sounds like something so much more than one man and a guitar by a cheap microphone. It rings so true, it's like the kind of song a non-musician would write in a fit of inspiration. I want this to be the first song someone really listens to, because for them, this will be the way music is supposed to sound.
This is from Dave Deporis' long-awaited For the Birds and Children, which he has just released in its current form, for free. You can contact him over MySpace, and pay for it what you will. The above images are stills from Seaview, a film about the use of an Irish amusement park as an asylum seeker detention centre. It looks beautiful.
First of all, I've moved back to Berlin, so sorry for the extended absence. It's quite nice here. I'm likely to be a little busy looking for a home and employment and such, but I will make a very serious effort not to let the silences here grow too awkward. Secondly, I witnessed Final Fantasy playing in Leipzig a few weeks back, and it was every bit as special as I had hoped. The new material is glorious, but since I don't have it, I'll share this slightly relevant session instead. It was recorded at Radio K some time back, and it's quite excellent.
Final Fantasy, Live in Studio, Radio K, University of Minnesota, 14 October 2007
This song is for dancing, but also for flowing drunkenly down a street, walking beneath the streetlights of East Berlin, looming like soldiers, spilling yellow onto the street, oil and light mixing by the footpath. You look ahead and see young men crouched by a wall, writing something indecipherable. You look up and see a single red light blotting above everything in the distance, and the buildings around you stand tall and crowded, a city falling into itself. You stumble on the cobbles, and notice the beat in this song, hidden in some basement club. You want to dance with someone, but you've been alone all night. {Buy}
I wasn't entirely sure what Auld Lang Syne's album would be like when I finally got my hands on it. All I knew of how it sounded came from the occasional email from one of the band, somewhere in Rochester, NY, or on the road. Slowly they've been gathering attention, starting small, with features in local newspapers and on local blogs. I've been looking forward to this record for well over a year, but even among people who scour music blogs for something new, this band is unknown. This is the case for many bands mentioned here, but with Auld Lang Syne it maddens me. It's simply not right that people who write music this beautiful still work badly-paid jobs. There are songs here that by virtue of sheer quality rise above their humble origins, the kind of song that taps its way into the very centre of your body, until it's holding your heart in an embrace, in a slow dance.
'Where My Fortune Lies' will be familiar to some readers - I've written about it many times, and it was my favourite song of last year by some distance. It's been reworked slightly, and it's remarkable how the slight additions - haunting background vocals, some electric guitar - can make me feel like I'm hearing the song for the first time again. Even now it makes my pulse quicken, to hear that chorus descending like a storm.
'My First Soul' is another standout. At eight minutes long, it's far more slow-burning, but it picks up and grows into the kind of towering singalong that seems to want to shepherd people together, to remind them how much fun other people are. Timothy Dick's voice seems worn and happy at the same time, as though the song has been his entire lifetime up until this point. If there was any justice in the world, it's songs like this they'd be playing at campaign rallies and inaugurations. There is one more song, which I think is my favourite song of this year so far: 'Red Feather' is so gorgeous it's difficult to listen to it, but I will share it as soon as I have written something worthy of it.
This is one of my favourite albums now. It doesn't sound like much else in my collection - I don't think I have many records so unabashedly honest. It is the kind of music that deserves to be loved. The band don't work with anything wild, it's all guitars, accordions and harmonicas, but it's amazing how original it all feels, as if nobody has made this kind of music in years. It's beautiful, and everyone should know it.
You can buy it from Viper Bite Records, and stream most of it on the bands' MySpace. They're playing a few dates in New York at the moment - and their live show is apparently phenomenal.
This is most probably all over the internet by now, but if you haven't seen it, it's one of those things which is certain to make you smile, and decide that you're going to the next music festival on anywhere.
On the off chance that you've never spent an hour messing with one before, tenori-ons are a ridiculous amount of fun. This one especially is kind of compulsive, since you can listen to your own drawings. A heart sounds rather gorgeous, oddly enough.
The bewilderingly talented Owen Pallett has been on tour in Europe for a little while now, and the new material being debuted is utterly thrilling, if the above video of 'Lewis Takes Action' is anything to go by. The new album is to be titled Heartland, it features a 50-piece Czech orchestra, and it will (hopefully) be out this year. Just thinking about it gets me so worked up I need to have a cup of tea.
Here's a rip of the above video, and an old favourite to tide us over:
