My husband has gone off to London for a much-deserved holiday. Though I'm so happy for him to be going home to reconnect, as all expats must do, I'm torn by a deep longing to be there with him. To be there. Since this is a music site, I wanted to write about this longing to be in a place through music. And though my love for British alternative music runs deep and long, no band quite describes my longing, my pining, than Suede (and no, I won't call them the London Suede).
My friend Melissa and myself share a love of this band, and have since we first saw them on a sweaty and thrilling night at the Metro in Lincoln Park, Chicago, in '93. She suffered being crushed against a trunk, I suffered being whipped in the face by Brett's mic cord, but aside from those painful moments, we were both exhilarated by the experience, and both fell in love with this band in all its painfully beautiful intensity.
To me, Suede, and especially Brett Anderson, epitomize the England of my fantasies, and hit an odd Anglophile nerve that still exists in me, despite the battering my love took by the modern-day realities of the UK today. Brett is the beautiful, untouchable Englishman, all pale beauty and attitude. On stage, he had an androgynous energy like Bowie, with a tense and urgent voice that so perfectly fit modern times. He was a furious dandy, and he was dressed in black—a combination that, to me, is irresistible.
I saw Suede in Kentish Town, at a joyful fanclub only gig. I saw them in Kilburn at the National, and at their bittersweet penultimate show at Brixton. Each time, I experienced an intense feeling of their sheer Englishness, so unlike any energy on the planet.
To me, Suede is: extreme excitement and anticipation of a great night out... dark room listenings, sometimes tearful, always emotional... lager-fueled pre-show discussions down the pub, followed by lager-fueled screams and pogo dancing... quick jumps into black taxis... wandering around the warehouses of King's Cross, where the fan club gig was supposed to be, finding out from other fans that it had been moved to the Forum at Kentish Town... Melissa falling down the stairs... laughing so hard I could pee... hanging out with the band after the Metro show... my mug from the Kilburn show, from which I proudly drank tea at work throughout each day...To me, Suede is London and the height of my joy of being a part of that great city.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Beauty and the Joy of Creative Respite
The world has taken a dark turn in recent weeks, globally and locally. The bright spark of Egypt aside, there's little beauty or uplifting distraction out there.
But when I see this video, I am overwhelmed by the beauty and sheer creative energy of artists at work. This is an incredible testament to the desire to push the limits of an artistic genre. Who'd have thought the music video could go this deep, this intensely beautiful. I applaud the directors and thank them for the creative respite they've provided in their incredibly moving imagery.
A great artist is truly capable of soothing dark hearts. Only the arts can play this role. Music and art are the great emancipators from the tedious, the hateful, the intensely ugly. No art form, in my opinion, does this better than music. But this incredible marriage of music and visual art is truly wonderful. Please enjoy.
But when I see this video, I am overwhelmed by the beauty and sheer creative energy of artists at work. This is an incredible testament to the desire to push the limits of an artistic genre. Who'd have thought the music video could go this deep, this intensely beautiful. I applaud the directors and thank them for the creative respite they've provided in their incredibly moving imagery.
A great artist is truly capable of soothing dark hearts. Only the arts can play this role. Music and art are the great emancipators from the tedious, the hateful, the intensely ugly. No art form, in my opinion, does this better than music. But this incredible marriage of music and visual art is truly wonderful. Please enjoy.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
...Muse
I still haven't written about my experience at Muse in October. I've thought about it many times, and am still stuck in uncertainty as to how to even begin to describe the event. I thought I'd first post a short clip from the show. Thank you to whomever filmed this... the whole concert now exists on You Tube. Oh if I could have other shows from my past up there... REM and Suede's fan club gigs in London, Pearl Jam at Lollapalooza, Duran Duran... oh well, at least this technology is here now.
The guitar on this song is so incredible... the intensity of the song is off the charts. I don't think I've ever seen such an incredible show as this. More thoughts on this coming soon! Til then, enjoy!
The guitar on this song is so incredible... the intensity of the song is off the charts. I don't think I've ever seen such an incredible show as this. More thoughts on this coming soon! Til then, enjoy!
Thursday, November 4, 2010
A Night with Alan Wilder and Gary Numan
Funny the expectations you bring with you to a show. I went on my own, to the Metro, full of nostalgia. Memories flooded in as my cab pulled up. Suede in, I believe it was 94? Standing outside the hall, in the alley, with the band and various onlookers/groupies. Melissa and myself being crushed as we fought to keep our spot in the front row. I looked around the hall, talked to some people, walked upstairs, and finally settled on a spot. Unfortunately, as is my usual luck, I settled in next to two very drunk and very rowdy idiots. Thankfully, they were sincere Gary Numan fans. That always makes the drunken idiocy more bearable, if you know they're actually there for the music but just can't, for whatever reason, keep their idiotic yelps and 'fuck yeahs' to themselves. They were older than me, and had seen Mr. Numan over 30 times. Wow. Respect. They were sweet in their own way, and I felt strangely looked after, which is also a plus when at a gig on one's own.
Architect were not the most entertaining. I was polite, as was the crowd, but we were all waiting for Alan Wilder. I have to admit a real thrill as he walked out on stage. I realized, after watching him saunter onstage and position himself before his mac, that, Depeche Mode are the longest running constant in my entire musical life. I have loved them, listened to them, dreamt with them pretty much constantly in one way or another since the age of about 12 when my dear friend Steve Harris first introduced them to me from his mysteriously sophisticated mixed tapes (he even knew Blancmange, which, having lived in the UK for many years, I now realize is quite astounding).
Depeche Mode always seemed to hit wherever I was living during the summer. I still have yet to see them 'live'. It was ironic seeing Alan Wilder's beautiful new (to me) project Recoil all based from two macs and a video screen being wholeheartedly accepted. I remember the days in the 80s when they were heavily ridiculed for not being 'live'. But now I feel I've seen one part of them, and it felt good.
I must honestly say that Recoil's music is a moving and beautiful concoction of electronica and gorgeous vocals from spoken word to blues. I loved it. I soon got over the awkwardness of him nodding his head and pushing buttons.
When he left, I felt great relief at the sight of techs setting up guitars and other instruments. Real instruments being played live is still my very favorite. I didn't come to Gary Numan with many expectations. He played the entire Pleasure Principle album first. It still sounded modern and thoroughly interesting. But when he started his newer material, which has a decidedly more 'industrial' or hard electronic edge, I got quite excited. He brings an interesting mix of old school singing and pausing to industrial. Yes, the voice is somewhat distorted, but he actually sings the songs with clear choruses, which is unusual in the industrial music that I've listened to. And maybe you can't even call it industrial. I struggle with a lot of the new labels to these music forms anyway, so bear with me. What I guess I'm trying to say is that it was surprisingly emotionally laden, poetic and soaring. I also admired his passion. He clearly gets into his music, and that's a pleasure to watch. He looks like a lost raccoon with the heavy kohl liner on his eyes. He doesn't look like that power will come from him. But, it does, and it's immensely satisfying.
The end of the night was the part that fully exceeded expectations. After a brief but very fun time downstairs, I finally decided to call it a night. What should I discover when I came up for air and a cab home, but Mr. Wilder himself. I did what I always do, approached him immediately, gushed incoherently but very sincerely about his music (did ask if he did the visuals too, which are gorgeous), and thanked him. He was awfully good looking (better with age) and very gracious, holding my hand and thanking me repeatedly. He got into a cab and went. I had to pinch myself. Alan Wilder. Wow. And here's the proof above. Oh, and a nice little shot of Gary at work.
Architect were not the most entertaining. I was polite, as was the crowd, but we were all waiting for Alan Wilder. I have to admit a real thrill as he walked out on stage. I realized, after watching him saunter onstage and position himself before his mac, that, Depeche Mode are the longest running constant in my entire musical life. I have loved them, listened to them, dreamt with them pretty much constantly in one way or another since the age of about 12 when my dear friend Steve Harris first introduced them to me from his mysteriously sophisticated mixed tapes (he even knew Blancmange, which, having lived in the UK for many years, I now realize is quite astounding).
Depeche Mode always seemed to hit wherever I was living during the summer. I still have yet to see them 'live'. It was ironic seeing Alan Wilder's beautiful new (to me) project Recoil all based from two macs and a video screen being wholeheartedly accepted. I remember the days in the 80s when they were heavily ridiculed for not being 'live'. But now I feel I've seen one part of them, and it felt good.
I must honestly say that Recoil's music is a moving and beautiful concoction of electronica and gorgeous vocals from spoken word to blues. I loved it. I soon got over the awkwardness of him nodding his head and pushing buttons.
When he left, I felt great relief at the sight of techs setting up guitars and other instruments. Real instruments being played live is still my very favorite. I didn't come to Gary Numan with many expectations. He played the entire Pleasure Principle album first. It still sounded modern and thoroughly interesting. But when he started his newer material, which has a decidedly more 'industrial' or hard electronic edge, I got quite excited. He brings an interesting mix of old school singing and pausing to industrial. Yes, the voice is somewhat distorted, but he actually sings the songs with clear choruses, which is unusual in the industrial music that I've listened to. And maybe you can't even call it industrial. I struggle with a lot of the new labels to these music forms anyway, so bear with me. What I guess I'm trying to say is that it was surprisingly emotionally laden, poetic and soaring. I also admired his passion. He clearly gets into his music, and that's a pleasure to watch. He looks like a lost raccoon with the heavy kohl liner on his eyes. He doesn't look like that power will come from him. But, it does, and it's immensely satisfying.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Old and Nu
Just bought tickets to see Gary Numan. He's someone I've always liked, but now I'm loving. I had heard vaguely that he had a harder sound in recent years. Wow. It's beautiful. It's exciting. And I'm going to see him. I love that anticipation. Wondering what it will be like. I don't know most of his new material. But I'm trying to get up to speed over the next few days.
I watched an interview with him recently. He expressed his frustration at peoples' desire for 'retro tours'. I can understand what he's saying. He wants to be seen as an artist in this moment. Not as someone from the 80s. Yes, he was there. Yes, he was very relevant and groundbreaking. But he still is. And, like most great artists, his work is richer, more meaningful, more emotional, than when he was a younger man.
I've got a picture below of Trent Reznor and Gary Numan for a few reasons. First, as many might know, Mr. Reznor regularly attributes Mr. Numan as a major influence. Good on you, Trent. Respect for those who came before is a must. And the industrial and electronica movements owe a great debt to Gary Numan and countless others. They have performed together in recent years, which is a joy to watch. I saw NIN with Bauhaus a few years ago... a subject I'll be writing about soon. Needless to say, Trent Reznor and Pete Murphy together on stage was quite a thrill.
This reminds me of a conversation I had recently with a 20-year-old woman about NIN. She started it by saying, 'They're not as cool as they were.' I have to say, I had to hold my tongue. I hate that expression, which almost always comes up when people pine for the good old days of whichever artist they're talking about. I feel particularly well-placed to discuss that particular band, as I was there for the beginning, when I was her age. However, I am still here for this moment, too. I have watched NIN, for all these years, age. And grow. And evolve. This is not something to be ridiculed. This is something to celebrate. Like Depeche Mode, NIN has evolved and is making music relevant to where they are at this moment. Why should Trent Reznor be stuck in his potent rage of Pretty Hate Machine? It was a spasmodically exciting album, and a period and type of music that probably saved me from substance abuse as it allowed me to express my rage and frustration with the world in the relative safety of the industrial dance clubs of the early 90s. However, just as I've grown and dare I say, matured, so has Trent Reznor. It's what people do. It's the nature of things. It's not bad or wrong. An artist, just like anyone, must evolve.
And that's what Mr Numan is doing. And actually, for my taste, at this moment in time, Mr Numan is doing something that is damned exciting and beautiful. His music is powerful and passionate. I can't wait to see what he gets up to at the Metro!
I watched an interview with him recently. He expressed his frustration at peoples' desire for 'retro tours'. I can understand what he's saying. He wants to be seen as an artist in this moment. Not as someone from the 80s. Yes, he was there. Yes, he was very relevant and groundbreaking. But he still is. And, like most great artists, his work is richer, more meaningful, more emotional, than when he was a younger man.
I've got a picture below of Trent Reznor and Gary Numan for a few reasons. First, as many might know, Mr. Reznor regularly attributes Mr. Numan as a major influence. Good on you, Trent. Respect for those who came before is a must. And the industrial and electronica movements owe a great debt to Gary Numan and countless others. They have performed together in recent years, which is a joy to watch. I saw NIN with Bauhaus a few years ago... a subject I'll be writing about soon. Needless to say, Trent Reznor and Pete Murphy together on stage was quite a thrill.
This reminds me of a conversation I had recently with a 20-year-old woman about NIN. She started it by saying, 'They're not as cool as they were.' I have to say, I had to hold my tongue. I hate that expression, which almost always comes up when people pine for the good old days of whichever artist they're talking about. I feel particularly well-placed to discuss that particular band, as I was there for the beginning, when I was her age. However, I am still here for this moment, too. I have watched NIN, for all these years, age. And grow. And evolve. This is not something to be ridiculed. This is something to celebrate. Like Depeche Mode, NIN has evolved and is making music relevant to where they are at this moment. Why should Trent Reznor be stuck in his potent rage of Pretty Hate Machine? It was a spasmodically exciting album, and a period and type of music that probably saved me from substance abuse as it allowed me to express my rage and frustration with the world in the relative safety of the industrial dance clubs of the early 90s. However, just as I've grown and dare I say, matured, so has Trent Reznor. It's what people do. It's the nature of things. It's not bad or wrong. An artist, just like anyone, must evolve.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Terrible Love is Terribly Lovely
I came to The National through an ad in our local paper, The Isthmus. I saw the ad, liked their photo. They looked sufficiently indie and earnest... maybe they had something interesting going on. I started downloading their new album, High Violet, and was immediately charmed. I should let it be known that I'm mostly about the voice. And my god, what a special one Matt Berninger has. It's a baritone that immediately sets you at ease. And I was fascinated by his phrasing... his pauses... such an interesting and eerie, soothing and unsettling sound.
So, I did what I never do. I bought tickets immediately. And I'm so glad I did! It was a joy to be able to go see a band in my hometown again. Bands that I like so rarely come to Madison. No long schlepp home on the Tube or by car. Just ten minutes from my house. You can tell my age from that being a big part of the pleasure factor for the evening!
The show was mellow and lovely and mesmerizing. They were clearly pretty excited and worked up (in their own, strangely English, and very low key way. They'd just played for the President's visit to town. Matt talked about this with good humor off and on throughout the show, joking that he was sure the President was pretty nervous to meet them.
The rest of the band is made up of two sets of brothers. The twins, Aaron and Bryce Dessner, are on guitar. They create a richly layered sound between them. They are all amazing musicians. I met one Dessner, not sure which one, after the show... Denise and I were walking outside and I spotted him, shook his hand, and thanked him for a wonderful evening. I think Denise thought I was insane... in these situations, I have no fear, though I regularly make a fool of myself. I think I did ok... was just as I always am when I meet a musician or actor that I particularly like—genuinely impressed and a bit starstruck, and very concerned that they know how much they are appreciated.
The songs were wonderful. Only complaint was that Matt decided to scream his way through a few of the choruses. I suspect he was losing his voice, and felt it covered it up... it was frustrating. Also frustrating was the overemphasis of the violinist, who actually managed to ruin 'England', probably their most beautiful song.
I greatly appreciate his lyrics, and wouldn't have really gotten them just ten years ago. The themes are mature, and hover in areas of gray that a person can't truly relate to until she's reached a certain age, been hurt by cynicism, had the edges of real idealism rubbed off through experience. I find their songs very soothing...
This is a band that deserves far more attention and praise. Their quiet dignity probably won't allow for that, but they should find solace in the fact that they make the kind of music that nestles itself into a person's soul and never leaves.
So, I did what I never do. I bought tickets immediately. And I'm so glad I did! It was a joy to be able to go see a band in my hometown again. Bands that I like so rarely come to Madison. No long schlepp home on the Tube or by car. Just ten minutes from my house. You can tell my age from that being a big part of the pleasure factor for the evening!
The show was mellow and lovely and mesmerizing. They were clearly pretty excited and worked up (in their own, strangely English, and very low key way. They'd just played for the President's visit to town. Matt talked about this with good humor off and on throughout the show, joking that he was sure the President was pretty nervous to meet them.
The rest of the band is made up of two sets of brothers. The twins, Aaron and Bryce Dessner, are on guitar. They create a richly layered sound between them. They are all amazing musicians. I met one Dessner, not sure which one, after the show... Denise and I were walking outside and I spotted him, shook his hand, and thanked him for a wonderful evening. I think Denise thought I was insane... in these situations, I have no fear, though I regularly make a fool of myself. I think I did ok... was just as I always am when I meet a musician or actor that I particularly like—genuinely impressed and a bit starstruck, and very concerned that they know how much they are appreciated.
The songs were wonderful. Only complaint was that Matt decided to scream his way through a few of the choruses. I suspect he was losing his voice, and felt it covered it up... it was frustrating. Also frustrating was the overemphasis of the violinist, who actually managed to ruin 'England', probably their most beautiful song.
I greatly appreciate his lyrics, and wouldn't have really gotten them just ten years ago. The themes are mature, and hover in areas of gray that a person can't truly relate to until she's reached a certain age, been hurt by cynicism, had the edges of real idealism rubbed off through experience. I find their songs very soothing...
Friday, September 24, 2010
Bowie at the Forum
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