My initial introduction to Nirvana is hardly different from most people’s: an image of a baby floating across a chlorine blue backdrop, reaching after that elusive dollar note. 2001 was the era of CDs and Discmans. Music came passed down to me from my older brother, and Nevermind was no different. As iconic as Nevermind was, and is, it wasn’t the record that really got me hooked on Nirvana.
Hearing Smells Like Teen Spirit and Lithium for the first time, I wanted to like it. Aged thirteen, we were just starting make tentative steps away from the prescribed life given to us by school and our parents. It was the first faint stirrings of teenage rebellion and grunge and punk rock was the soundtrack. Unavoidably cool compared to the current diet of Aqua, Steps and 5ive, that burgeoning spark of self-expression latched onto Nirvana as a step towards something a bit different.
While gazing, without any real comprehension, at the artwork through the jewel case might be pretty standard, I reckon not many people can say they really fell for Nirvana at church. But I did.
“That’s where his balls have worn through his jeans”. We were poring over the sleeve out of my copy of Bleach, typically and pointlessly lusting after photos of Kurt Cobain as only thirteen year old girls can. That elucidating comment came from a boy with greasy blond hair, still short to fit a private school education, unlike his baggy Bolt jeans and black wristbands.
Image via Adios Lounge
On Friday nights, a school friend of mine was encouraged to attend a church youth group by her religious parents. I still don’t know whether I feel sheepish over how we turned that into an opportunity to meet boys, but we did. We certainly weren’t there to learn about Jesus. For some reason, Christianity seemed to draw a specific faction of teenagers who were mixing grunge and God. Boys in eyeliner who played electric guitar or drums (badly), and somehow religion got mixed up in that trend.
Still years away from iPods, you could well be judged on the CDs you carried around with you, which is why that week I had taken Bleach with me. And I was judged, mostly by the same blond kid who did not for one second believe that I really understood Nirvana. Had I been holding Nevermind I would have conceded that, but something about Bleach genuinely did strike something in me.
Not everyone agrees. As their debut album, Bleach is the record that Cobain was most dismissive of. First released in 1989, the record was critically acclaimed but failed to chart until its re-release following the astronomical success of Nevermind in 1992. Cobain often claimed that in writing Bleach they felt like that had to conform to the accepted style of grunge fostered by Seattle, the available fanbase and their label Sub Pop.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3U36vDJIbrQ
Comparative to their live performances, Bleach was often described as sparse and far less manic. Cobain once said of the album that he “”didn’t give a flying fuck what the lyrics were about” and “It was like I’m pissed off. Don’t know what about. Let’s just scream negative lyrics, and as long as they’re not sexist and don’t get too embarrassing it’ll be okay. I don’t hold any of those lyrics dear to me.” But that’s almost the magic of it, the bleakness and the disposability is so tangible. I sometimes think that in an attempt to conform, a word that never sat comfortable in Nirvana’s lexicon, they actually spawned something of their own.
Bleach is far from nonsense or stream of consciousness; rather it is more like the psychotic mutterings of the subconscious. Much like Nevermind, the record is filled with short stories and it feels like listening to well worn fascinations and complaints. The delivery might have been careless, but the subject matter has been chewed over many times.
We know too much about Nirvana and Cobain to dismiss tracks like Negative Creep and Downer as just lyrical fluff. Back in 1993 the world was just recognising the strange figure that Kurt Cobain cut and only just beginning to see the point of Nirvana. Over two decades later their history has been so dissected that you have to draw the parallels. Listening as a teenager though, I didn’t know all this. I just knew that what I was hearing was tapping into something very primal. And I hadn’t heard much music that could do that at that point.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-5ijtz6Du_s
Musically, the album is incredibly bass heavy, launching with that looming riff from Krist Novoselic on Blew. Immediately menacing, that is perhaps the aspect of Bleach that sets it apart for me. Nirvana’s catalogue may be riddled with angst and anger, but on no other record do they really hit the same depth of lurking aggression. The intro to Floyd The Barber still nudges my pulse to play copy cat to the off kilter rhythm.
I am a sucker for melody, I admit. Bleach is less crashing guitars than Nevermind, cleaner than the hectic Insesticide and probably lacking the introspective beauty of In Utero. But it does somehow bridge the gap between Cobain’s frenzied internal monologue and the elements within the band. Love Buzz was the first single from the record, and even just the opening riff as it slips from the hypnotic, picked guitar to a steely drum beat and then the pounding riffs and shredding. Constrained it might be, but thin it is not.
Whether it is is simply nostalgia for those teenage years, something about that riff for About A Girl, just a simple Em / G chord progression, flips a switch in me. Despite our awkward beginnings, I ended up joining a band with the same blond kid who had been so rude to me. He grew his hair to look like Cobain, and the first song we ever recorded was a cover of About A Girl.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JpMt_YqVbhw
Writing for Sounds magazine, Keith Cameron said of About A Girl that it “was exhilarating and it was exciting because that was the nature of the music, but there was also an almost palpable sense of danger, that this whole thing could fall apart any second”. He may have been talking about just one song, but for me, that is Bleach in its entirety.
There’s a swing to the rhythm of About A Girl that clashes with the straight feel of grunge, but in a way it’s a precursor for Rape Me with its repetitive melody and lyrics. And actually in many ways, Bleach drops so many hints about the music that Nirvana went on to record. Negative Creep holds the same thrashed out, relentless energy that pummels through Nevermind. Love Buzz has all the mysticism of In Utero, and Mr Moustache is like the frenzied rock n’ roll that happened across so many B-sides, and also Insesticide.
At the heart of it, Bleach marks the moment that I really stepped outside everyone else’s influence and made my own decision about something I liked. It’s as simple as that – because something about the music genuinely resonated with me. Nostalgia is a powerful thing, but it isn’t the only reason that I’m still listening to Bleach even as I turn thirty.
We might have made an uncomfortable start, he may even have swung a bike chain at me once upon a time, but that smart arse blond kid became my best friend. He still is to this day. And we still agree that Bleach is Nirvana’s best album.
Image via Susie Garrard
Image: Ange Mort
Jay Z has recently signed a “first-look deal” with legendary film studio, The Weinstein Company. A singularly powerful meeting of the music and film industries, the confirmed collaboration has been followed by the announcement of their first projects together.
One of the most anticipated project to come from this deal will be an upcoming biopic about the comedian Richard Pryor, produced by Jay Z with TWC. The long-rumoured film is believed to be titled Is It Something I Said?, sharing its name with Pryor’s 1975 live album. Currently slated to be directed by Lee Daniels, production is due to begin in early 2017.
During a recent press conference, Jay Z and TWC announced that they will be producing Time; a docu-series for Spike TV about Kalief Browder. A young man from the Bronx, Browder was imprisoned at Rikers Island for three years following his arrest for allegedly stealing a backpack aged just 16. Browder tragically committed suicide just a couple of years following his release,. Having been placed in solitary confinement during his incarceration, his death sparked concerns over isolationist policies for juvenile offenders.
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IDGrQQFVjPA]
Jay Z will act as an executive producer for Time for TWC, and the six part series will be directed by Jenner Furst. At the press conference, Jay Z told how Browder’s story had come to his attention through an article in the New Yorker, and how he met with Browder shortly before he committed suicide. “He told me he was going to college,” Jay Z told reporters, “I wanted to give him words of encouragement.”
Image: Today In Hip-Hop
Bringing people together is not something we usually praise Donald Trump for – he’s more the “build a wall to keep us apart” type after all. But this week, Trump and his toupee have sparked a reunion of sorts in the music world. Following the use of their iconic Seven Nation Army in a promotional video, The White Stripes have banded together once more just to express their extreme dissatisfaction.
Although not used in an official campaign video from Trump’s camp, the track features in material made by his supporters which has been widely circulated. Jack and Meg White have issued a joint statement addressing the use of the song in connection with the Republican candidate.
“Regarding the use of “Seven Nation Army” in a Donald Trump campaign video, The White Stripes would like to unequivocally state that they have nothing whatsoever to do with this video. They are disgusted by this association, and by the illegal use of their song.”
The duo are not the first musicians to take umbrage at having music appropriated by Trump. Adele, Neil Young and R.E.M.’s Michael Stipe are just a few from a long list, one which includes Trump’s apparent friend, Steve Tyler of Aerosmith.
They are also not the first to highlight the illegality of using music without permission. Despite the video no being officially produced by Trump’s campaign, the video can still be construed as an unlawful sync if the producer did not seek permission.
However, The White Stripes have gone one step further than just calling out Trump on his presumed association with them. An anti-Trump slogan tee has been added to the online store for Jack White’s Third Man Records. Emblazoned with “Icky Trump” (Icky Trump… Icky Thump..! Get it?!) apparently they are selling fast. To add insult to injury, the shirts have the following lyrics print on the back taken from the song Icky Thump.
https://www.facebook.com/thewhitestripes/photos/a.10151549368105042.1073741825.383897895041/10154417809530042/?type=3&permPage=1
You buy your own anti-Trump t-shirt here via Third Man Records, though due to high demand customers have been told to expect shipping delays.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1OjTspCqvk8
Image: NME
Frank Zappa once said “So many books, so little time.” The same could be said about music, although some people seem to be able to consume both at the same time, which must be helpful. But Zappa is not the only musician looking to the literary world; books have inspired some of the greatest songs we know. Many people would compare lyrics to poetry, but in this case we’re looking at the prose that sparks creativity in artists. From classic hits through to the less likely references, we’ve put together some of the best literary adaptations in music…
Wuthering Heights by Kate Bush
Perhaps one of the best known literary adaptations in music, Kate Bush’s dramatic (and shrill) classic is brimful with the tragedy of Emily Brontë’s only novel. First published in 1847 under the pseudonym “Ellis Bell”, the doomed love of Cathy and Heathcliff has been a schoolroom staple of English Lit classes for decades. A prime favourite for TV adaptations, Bush’s version is perhaps the best known song to be inspired by Wuthering Heights.
Recorded in 1978, the lyrics were actually written by Bush aged just 18. Inspired by just ten minutes of a BBC mini-adaptation that aired on 1967 television, she also discovered that she shared her birthday with Emily Brontë (July 30). Singing as the ghost of Cathy, calling to Heathcliff from the bleak moors – and from beyond the grave – the track stayed at number one in the British charts for four weeks.
Bush actually fought hard with record label EMI to have Wuthering Heights released as the lead single for her album, The Kick Inside. A rare victory for a young artist, who was definitely more savvy than her floaty dresses and mystical demeanour might have indicated to unsuspecting label execs.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fk-4lXLM34g&w=560&h=315
Scentless Apprentice by Nirvana
Nirvana’s final studio album, In Utero, was released in 1993 amid all the usual promotion and press coverage. Alongside the barrage of standard questions from music journos, Canadian reporter Erica Ehm asked Kurt Cobain if his music was inspired by literature. The answer was yes, and that his favourite book was Perfume by Patrick Suskind and he “as a matter a fact…used that very story in Scentless Apprentice.”
“I read Perfume by Patrick Suskind about 10 times in my life, and I can’t stop reading it. It’s like something that’s just stationary in my pocket all the time. It just doesn’t leave me,” Cobain told Ehm during the interview. “Cause I’m a hypochondriac it just affects me – makes me want to cut off my nose.”
Originally written in German and published in 1985, Perfume is a dark and disturbing historical narrative that explores the relationship between smell and emotions. The protagonist, Jean-Baptiste Grenouille is an unloved orphan with an exceptional sense of smell, but no scent to his body. The opening lyrics to Scentless Apprentice follow Suskind’s writing; “Like most babies smell like butter / His smell smelled like no other.”
In the novel, Grenouille’s lack of scent disturbs his wet nurse who claims that normal babies smell like butter. The chorus refrain of “Go away” is a pretty stark reference to Grenouille’s realisation that he is in fact a misanthrope. The novel is also widely seen as an allegory for Hitler’s rise to power.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GyxoQIQaogE&w=560&h=315
Killing An Arab by The Cure
Robert Smith has made a number of nods towards the high-brow literary world throughout his career with The Cure. Starting as they meant to continue, the very first intended single written by The Cure was directly inspired by the French philosophical novelist Albert Camus. Killing An Arab was recorded at the same time as the band’s debut LP, Three Imaginary Boys, but wasn’t released until 1980 when it featured on their next album, Boys Don’t Cry.
Viewed as controversial and offensive since its release, Killing An Arab was actually “a short poetic attempt at condensing my impression of the key moments in L’Étranger (The Stranger)” by Smith. The book tells the story of Meursault, a French Algerian lacking in empathy, who shoots an Arab man during an altercation on a beach. The lyrics tell the story from Meursault’s perspective, briefly examining his position as ‘the stranger’ who cannot connect with himself or the world around him.
Smith has often regretted how Killing An Arab has been so misinterpreted and how it has been viewed as racist and inciting of violence.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SdbLqOXmJ04&w=560&h=315
Lotion by Greenskeeper
Most people are familiar with Anthony Hopkins and Jodie Foster in the blockbuster version of The Silence Of The Lambs, but like many movie classics, the film was first a book. Published under the same title by Thomas Harris in 1988, the serial killer Buffalo Bill and his penchant for human skin were invented by Harris.
Chicago band Greenskeeper were inspired by the fictional psychopath to write their hit Lotion, included in the track listing on their 2004 album Pleetch. A sparse yet addictive piece of indie, the song follows the musings of Buffalo Bill as he goes about his daily life of imprisoning captives in the deep hole in his basement, walking his little dog and making sure everyone moisturises properly.
Always returning to his famous insistence that “It puts the lotion in the basket”, there is also a dark humour to the sordid subject matter. A particular favourite moment of mine from James Curd’s lyrics; “The night is very cold / I’m feeling kind of weak / I think I’ll make myself a cap from your right buttocks cheek”
https://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/12604140
Ramble On by Led Zeppelin
The 1960s and 70s found many artists fascinated by fantasy and philosophy, particularly with the arrival of mind-expanding psychedelia and “intellectual” prog rock. Even one the era’s most famous bands, Led Zeppelin were not averse to delving into fiction for inspiration. References to J.R.R. Tolkien’s iconic fantasy opus, The Lord Of The Rings, are rife throughout Zeppelin’s writing.
Perhaps the most famous example is Ramble On, taken from their 1969 album Led Zeppelin II. Co-written by Jimmy Page and Robert Plant, the highly descriptive lyrics parallel Frodo and Sam’s fictional journey. From the opening line “Leaves are falling all around” (which is likely to have been lifted from Tolkien’s poem Namárië), through to mention of Mordor and Gollum. Even the lyric “Got no time to for spreading roots” references the hobbits’ stint with the animated tree race of the “Ents”.
Led Zeppelin continued to reference LOTR across other songs well. Led Zeppelin IV in particular featured songs like Misty Mountain Hop and The Battle Of Evermore. Anyone familiar with the novel will recognise references to “ring wraiths” and magic runes. Misty Mountain Hop probably takes its title from the mountains of Middle Earth, but the song places Tolkien’s writings as a totem for the peace movement of the ’60s instead of taking inspiration from the story itself.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S0NFaQcTJsg&w=560&h=315
2+2=5 by Radiohead
Radiohead are well known for the intelligent commentary that is often inherent in their music. Born out in the Oxford countryside during the 1980s, like so many Britpop era bands they were the product of traditional English education. Giving them both an eclectic knowledge of music, and a creative dislike of the school system.
It seems unsurprising that Radiohead would look to the literary world for inspiration, and even less so that they would find it in George Orwell’s prophetic, dystopian novel 1984. 2+2=5 (The Lukewarm) was the third single from Radiohead’s 2003 album Hail To The Thief. The title matches the “symbol of unreality” used by Orwell to illustrate the concept of an imposed falsity. In Orwell’s imagined authoritarian world, inhabitants are subjects to “doublethinking” where their on beliefs are replaced by political propaganda.
The song features the familiar low-key menace of Radiohead, mixing alt-rock with electronic elements. Thom Yorke once said of the album that he “desperately tried not to write anything political … But it’s just fucking there.” The alternative title for 2+2=5 of The Lukewarm is also apparently inspired by the works of Dante who described “the lukewarm” as those inhabiting just the edges of the inferno.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lstDdzedgcE&spfreload=10
Image: Broadsheet
As much as the English language dominates the worlds of business and politics, it also appears to be the lingua franca of music. Despite the huge number of recording artists performing in other languages, it is still so rare for those musicians to really break into the global market.
The music industry is decidedly entrenched in western cultures historically; both the UK and America have held the monopoly on cultural exports for decades now. The ‘Big Three’ – Universal, Warner and Sony BMG – successfully established their corporations from these territories long before smaller labels, and they still control around eighty per cent of all recorded music today. So as the common language amongst the industry’s most influential executives and tastemakers, it is hardly surprising that the English language dominates.
And as much as we would like to think otherwise, listeners are very much at the mercy of these corporations’ marketing strategies. Where radio play once accounted for much of an artist’s success, in today’s digital world streaming services have taken on that role. Ready-made playlists from platforms like Spotify are a primary source for audiences to discover music. Discovery and ‘viral’ sounds give the appearance of an online equivalent to trawling through record crates.
But in reality, spots on these playlists are highly sought after, and incredibly competitive. This year it was confirmed by industry insiders that pay for play “‘is definitely happening”, and reports have suggested that the majors once again hold sway over these areas. With the monetary weight behind them, indie labels have complained that they – and their artists – are priced out of the market for tastemaker online playlists.
Marketing for success. Image via Vicky Beeching
There is no lack of international artists who perform in their native languages, and many have huge support in their local territory. This is particularly true in Europe and Asia, where an artist’s reach may well extend across a number of countries, but will fall short of breaking into the mainstream chart via success in the UK or America. Even a quick comparison of the global charts against local listings makes an excellent case.
This week, the global chart featured just one artist who’s first language is not English. And even though MØ is Danish, she still performs in English. Set that against the Spanish chart for example, and it’s definitely a one way street. Globally charting artists appear across nearly all territories, but local musicians only manage to gain spots in their home territories.
Industrial precedent aside, why does the industry – and its fans – so continually ignore foreign language music? Clearly, western culture has the monopoly on music marketing but that also begs the question why they have failed to really take an interest in non-English music, when there is such a wealth of it?
We often use the term “language barrier”, which is particularly telling of how a lack of comprehension can impact us negatively. And if the primary market for music is amongst English speakers, then possibly there is an active disinterest in music that we cannot understand. Or at least, an extra hurdle that artists need to clear before they can really resonate with listeners.
World travel and experience of cultures other than our own are really sought after in today’s world. Our societies are becoming more and more multicultural, and social media makes the rest of the globe eminently accessible. I think most people would agree that the food industry, fashion and art have all been enriched by incorporating different cultural influences. So surely we are missing out on a great deal by ignoring so much music?
With that in mind, here are just a few ideas of artists who are bridging that language gap.
Gwenno
Welsh electro artist Gwenno Saunders first hit the charts with The Pipettes, and she has also toured as synth player for Elton John, but last year saw Gwenno release her debut solo album, Y Dydd Olaf, which was written in her native language of Welsh, plus one song in Cornish. Ethereal and dreamy, she weaves beautiful soundscapes across the record with lush textures and instrumentation. Her first release in Welsh, Gwenno feels that she truly found her voice in writing Y Dydd Olaf.
Recognising how intimidating it can be to shun the accepted English in favour of a minority language, she is a strong advocate for artists and audiences to experience international music in original forms.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OClOH2BP4LI
Yelle
French outfit Yelle have been making infectious electro-pop for over a decade. Despite being a household name in France, and recently signing to the infamous but influential Dr. Luke, they have yet to break the international market. But if classic, sharp dance tunes are your thing then Yelle are well worth checking out. Full of reverberating synths and pounding beats, Yelle bring a sense of nostalgia for ’90s dance music to their contemporary feel.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=13o1i-cgTOA
Dispossessed
Even in what are now English speaking nations, indigenous languages are often a rarity in popular music. Sydney metal band Dispossessed have come to the fore in recent months as unapologetic advocates of indigenous cultures. With a hefty political agenda, they perform in both English and language. Also with members of Filipino and Ghanaian origin, guitarist Birrugan sings in Gumbaynggirr, his father’s lingo from near Nymboida, NSW.
Appropriately, Dispossessed often write in lingo to express ideas that are drawn from indigenous culture. Melding black metal with thrash and punk, Dispossessed channel a very real rage and a lament against racism and colonialism.
Fatoumata Diawara
Originally from the Cote D’Ivoire and now a resident of France, Fatoumata Diawara writes and performs in her native Wassalou (a Malian language). After escaping her home to pursue an acting career in France, Diawara began to compose her songs on acoustic guitar. Blending the influences of her international existence with her Malian heritage, she writes gorgeously emotive songs with the irresistible back drop of traditional African instrumentation. Her 2011 album, Fatou, saw her take the global stage, even performing on the main stage at Glastonbury in 2013.
Having bought her album a few years ago, I return to it nearly constantly and I have never once looked up translations of her lyrics.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hFzItUctMf8
Image: SBS
Not long ago, I came across an interview with one of the employees at the first ever McDonalds in Germany (stay with me here, I promise this is relevant). What interested me about the interview was his description of how completely alien the American service culture was in Berlin at that time. Training was entirely based on the now universal foundations of the service industry; “the customer is always right”, and “service with a smile”.
These ideas are so totally familiar to us now, but in 1990s Germany, it was unheard of. Restaurants in Berlin at this point were capricious establishments, where customers were deemed worthy of service (or not) by the wait staff. The interview tells how you might walk into an empty restaurant only to be told by the maitre d’ that they had no tables available. Food could take hours, quality was what you were given, and there were certainly no smiles. The customer was barely recognised, let alone allowed an opinion.
Image via Meme Generator
But this same interview went on to discuss how the advent of what is usually known as American service culture, flipped the dynamic between employee and customer so completely, that it is now in reverse. Today, employees are subject to the whims and aggressions of customers, who are so entrenched in the belief that they have the upper hand – also a belief in their entitlement as consumers.
And this is where I’ll start talking about music…
You could easily draw a parallel between this power shift, and that between musicians and fans. Born out of the beginnings of popular music in the twentieth century, the concept of a “fan” has slowly evolved. You would be hard pressed to find someone who is not familiar with the images of fainting girls at Elvis Presley concerts, or screaming hordes waiting for the Beatles. The incredible appetite for music, and to share the experience of it, in the 1950’s and 60’s, sparked the idea of an adoring fan.
Very adoring fans. Image via Flickr
Possibly, the simplicity of the musical experience allowed for this perception. As a music fan, your options were limited to purchasing recorded music (physical copies), live shows and potentially magazine features – or a fan club subscription if you were lucky. Musicians were distant, highly inaccessible icons. An autograph was the ultimate badge of fandom.
Fans developed their own mythologies in lieu of actual information, and they were also driven by a fairly new sense of consumerism. The 1950s saw the emergence of the “teenager”, children who had known the deprivations of wartime were attaining their independence just as those restrictions were fading to be a thing of the past. Throw this at the options available to music fans, and they were eagerly buying into those limited outlets; purchasing records and concert tickets.
Like the service industry, musicians and fans exist in co-dependence. Yes, a musician can make music alone and no one need ever hear it. However, in the industrial sphere, musicians need fans to consume their product, but the artist is equally necessary to create fans. It’s a classic chicken and egg situation, and throughout most of the twentieth century it was the musicians who seemed to hold the power.
But somewhere along the line the dynamic started to change. Punk has been held accountable for some part of this shift in the relationship between artists and fans. While pop and rock held the two separate, and set up their proponents as godlike entities, punk exported a very different idea. The worst thing you could do in punk was to be passive; artists invited any involvement or reaction from fans – even contempt. Followed by the rise of rap and hip-hop, the concept of music that came from the streets saw musicians relating more closely to audiences.
At a certain point, the awareness shifted and now we see an industry where it is the fans that hold sway. That certain point can arguably be traced to the moment when the digital world took over. The ongoing struggle to find profit in today’s music industry is pretty well documented, despite the fact that consumption of music is unbelievably high. Couple this with the power of social media over our world, and conditions are ripe for a complete power shift.
Instances of crazed or aggressive behaviour by music fans is hardly new. From stalking and restraining orders, unhealthy obsession right through to murder, fans have often fixated on and targeted artists. But we are definitely seeing a much more demanding fanbase today, where musicians are held accountable rather than simply idolised.
Image via Giphy
Even just a quick internet search brings up a wealth of news items relating to irate music fans. Lawsuits to sue for poor performances, threats and demands for new material and announcing boycotts over minor grievances. Twitter teems with disgruntled commentary, ranging from simple complaints right through to disturbing rants. Digital age artists expend so much effort on really connecting with fans through social media, but if that relationship turns sour, they are left right in the firing line.
And it does seem that music fans have developed their own sense of entitlement. Decades ago, the most you would have asked of a musicians was a decent record and a run of accessible live shows. Now, fans are making more and more demands on artists – from both a professional and personal perspective. And sometimes, musicians just can’t win.
Distraught One Direction fans were even heartbroken at how quickly Zayn Malik released his solo music, although grief stricken at his departure, they still blamed him for moving on so quickly! Sia, who is famed for her shyness and mystery, is being sued for not being personable enough. Constant demands for songs and shows can quickly turn bitter, as fans will not hesitate to tear apart and criticise what they were so desperate for. I dread to think what would have happened if Frank Ocean’s Blonde hadn’t lived up to expectations…
Image via Twitter
In the same way that cyberbullying is often attributed to the ease of abusing someone from a distance, or anonymously, you have to wonder if these “fans” would be able to deliver the same criticisms face to face with musicians?
While this digital sphere makes artists more accessible than ever, the industry itself also plays into the fan’s hands. Streaming services are providing millions of listeners with essentially free music, often devaluing the product in consumer’s eyes. And at the same time, money can now buy everything. Artists like Beyoncé and Kanye West might have assumed the godlike roles the rock stars formerly held, but with the right balance on your credit card, you can buy time with them. VIP packages allow anyone with enough money access to these artists, and although the cost is high, it once again devalues what was once so unattainable.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OseA2qIeucs
It’s an interesting time where demand on musicians is so incredibly high, but the majority of fans are not quite matching that with either financial or faithful emotional support. Right now, where music is concerned, it seems that the customer is always right, and music is as easily consumed and as disposable as fast food.
I admit, I am generalising. “True” music fans do still exist, but the trend certainly seems to lean towards a fanbase which is harder to please than in previous times. Of course, social media is awash with messages of love and support for artists, and audiences still turn out in vast numbers for live shows, but how quickly could that love to turn to hate? And what small dissatisfaction would it now take to turn that support into abuse?
Image: CBS
As one of the most provocative figures in music today, it’s hardly surprising that the prelude to M.I.A’s fifth and potentially final album wasn’t a smooth ride. Having dropped her acclaimed, controversial track Borders last year, the singer continued to court controversy in her usual style with threats to (once again) leak her new record and complaints about label clashes.
This characteristically volatile lead up from M.I.A seemed to hold the promise of something with all the confrontational power that we’ve come to expect. But with AIM, M.I.A comes very to close to missing her parting shot.
Although the album continues in the same politically charged vein that Borders channelled, something of M.I.A’s powerhouse vitriol fails to quite kick in over the record. Having stated that AIM would be her “cleanest” album to date, and would show a side of M.I.A that was more about a “glass half full”, those promises translate to an uncertain beginning.
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r-Nw7HbaeWY]
This record does drop the defined cultural inspirations that previous releases bounced off. But, as the scope of her commentary extends to much more global proportions, it feels fitting that AIM perhaps channels a bleaker, western world musically. Launching with Borders, swiftly followed by Skrillex collaboration Go Off, you are getting the full force of M.I.A’s punch off the bat. While that introduction doesn’t weave the lush, rich textures that we may have come to expect from M.I.A, Go Off moves towards a driving, almost meditative state.
But as the record trudges onwards, something in it really does struggle to find its way. In much the same way that M.I.A’s recent comments questioning the Black Lives Matter movement seemed blustering and unexpected from the usually razor sharp singer, the first half of AIM feels similarly bewildered. Starting with the stark, eccentric Birdsong; the Blaqstarr Remix sits M.I.A’s vocals right out in front, where her musings on ornithology fail don’t quite hit home with the subtler meaning.
Moving forward and the slightly lame quality to M.I.A’s lyrics is what’s really bugging me on AIM. Her usual talent for turning the commonplace on it’s head with a quick lash of her tongue, seems to be absent across tracks like Foreign Friend and Freedun. The latter is so nearly poised as a startling pop gem, a glittering collaboration with Zayn Malik. Gorgeous hooks and melodies, Malik’s vocal’s are pop gold meets Middle Eastern romance. However, there’s a boredom to the cliches, even the playful “People’s Republic of Swaggerstan” feels lacklustre.
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x_Nc1FdTD10]
There is a sense that, without her vitriol, M.I.A is lost for words. Maybe in taking on so much in this record, you get the feeling that she isn’t entirely sure where to go. Finally is sound in it’s sparse composition, but even this affirming track has M.I.A checked out already. Collaborating with Jamaican Dancehall star Dexta Daps on Foreign Friend, she’s got a killer vocal part on her hands; one which could match up to Jamie Foxx on Kanye’s Gold Digger. But again, something isn’t adding up. Even her own commentary on the inspiration behind the track fails to shed any light on what M.I.A is really trying to say with this one.
A.M.P (All My People) delves a bit deeper, with a dubstep inspired anthemic feel. And Ali r u ok? sees M.I.A touching back on that talent for taking everyday stories, and opening out those snapshots into the bigger picture. Hard going and staccato, the battering vocal sample feels like a warm up, and familiar lyrics are once again shot through with knowing irony. In fact, it’s at this point on the album that M.I.A finds her stride again.
The second half of AIM is pretty much euphoric by contrast; someone has flipped the switch and M.I.A has got her feet under her, ready to rip at the system with all her might once more. Fly Pirate keeps running at the pace set by the quick fire Visa, M.I.A pushes into the depths of dubstep without sacrificing her messy, wide reaching style.
Making a second foray into pop, Survivor somehow succeeds where Freedun falls short. Channelling dancehall in her deep vocal melodies, the touch of autotune and shimmering synths, M.I.A tries on “life affirming” and this time, finds that it fits. It’s almost a relief to hear her cry holla, and a refrain of “say my name” on The New International Sound is a conscious reference to powerhouse pop history, rather than a cliched repeat.
The brash, clashing blades on Swords ushers in a hypnotic outcry from M.I.A, full of ragged sounds that come together in a beautifully textured track. Talk is an infectious kick at the world of social media, a flat out dance beat forms the back drop and harks back to Kala era. There is a sense of nostalgia around AIM, facing down what might be her last album M.I.A is definitely returning to some old themes. Sometimes in a sort of homage to former glories, but elsewhere reinterpreting the fire of albums like Matangi.
Image via YouTube
Signing off with the thoughtful Platforms, a track that partners Borders to bookend the record. Looming and more melodic than other songs, coupled with brash vocals that find M.I.A reaching for those articulate and sharp lyrics. This isn’t M.I.A going out with a bang, but stick with AIM and it does eventually become the deep reaching, last word that does justice to her as an artist. A testament to that fact that the middle ground isn’t the right setting for M.I.A, but once she finds her feet, Mathangi is back riding high.
Image: Rolling Stone
We all know that appearances can be deceiving, and it’s often the smallest dogs that bark the loudest. Not that I want to liken musicians to dogs, except perhaps Pitbull. But he brought that on himself. However, in the same way, you don’t necessarily need a big band to make a big noise. Two piece outfits may not subscribe to the classic formula, but they seem to hold a special place in music. Take the White Stripes, DZ Deathrays or Japandroids to name just a few, a low head count doesn’t necessarily mean low volume – or creativity. So, with that point in mind, we’ve rounded up five of the best two piece bands who are making the most noise for your listening pleasure.
Deap Vally
Kicking off with the California based duo Deap Vally. Lindsey Troy on guitar and vocals and Julie Edwards on drums, one listen to their high octane performances and might not believe that they met at a crochet class. Screaming onto the scene with their 2012 track Gonna Make My Own Money, Deap Vally hit hard with their thrashed out rock ’n’ roll. Raw and infectious, Troy pulls out hefty, distorted riffs and vocals that consistently push into overdrive. Having had the privilege of seeing a particularly intimate live show from Deap Vally, the sheer energy emanating from the duo is impressive to say the very least, and totally magnetic. Purists may bemoan the lack of bass, but I defy you to miss it. Troy and Edwards are now back after three years, with an imminent sophomore album; Femejism. You can check out their rad new video for the first single Gonnawanna.
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VTHmbk0177s]
Kit Trigg
Don’t let Kit Trigg fool you with his tagline “we’re fucking terrible”. The London based duo of “Nic (chill)” and “Kit (chill)” [sic] are one the best things I’ve heard recently. Another guitar/drums set up, with Kit on vocals and Nic on sticks, the pair manage to meld blues and stoner rock with a kind of thrashed out punk influence. Moving between soulful bluesy heartbreak and overdriven jam outs on their debut EP Thrasher, Kit Trigg rips it up with his shredded vocals and excellent riffs. Steady drumming is rounded out with generous use of Nic’s crashes, and the guitar work comes in two flavours; smooth caramel and bottom heavy distortions. The pair manage to create a satisfyingly weighty feel, the stripped back set up only adds to the rawness of their feel. Set to begin recording their debut album later this year, there’s a lot to look forward to from Kit Trigg.
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Drenge
Also hailing from the UK, Drenge heralded a bit of a homeland revival of straight up rock when they launched onto the scene in 2013. Sharply avoiding heritage indie and brit pop, the Loveless brothers are chunky riffs, judicious distortion, classic drumming and drone vocals. They truly are all out rock; fast paced with a touch of menace and angst, Drenge actually came with a recommendation. After the resignation of British Labour MP Tom Watson from Shadow Cabinet, in a farewell blog post Watson wrote “be that great Labour leader that you can be, but try to have a real life too. And if you want to see an awesome band, I recommend Drenge.” The band had already garnered a modest following and received media attention by this point, but it’s not every emerging artist that gets a shout out from the world of national politics. They did enlist bassist Rob Graham for their 2015 sophomore release Undertow, but after their killer self-titled record, Drenge still seem to retain the core of a two piece at heart.
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jIHdlHZG_7k]
Inquisition
If we’re going to go down the road of two piece bands who really do make a lot of noise, then Colombia’s Inquisition probably rack up the most decibels. The vintage black metal band first formed in the 80s, but are still recording and touring. Check out their catalogue and you would be hard pressed to differentiate between Inquisition and bands with four members or more. Pulverising drumming and lightning quick thrash guitar, they play on the starker aspects of metal. Often pairing menacing vocals with double-pedalled bass drumming, heavy cymbal work and guitar which switches between rhythm and lead in one riff. In a 2005 interview, vocalist and guitarist Dagon explained how the duo cover all bases with just their sparse elements; “We have the bare minimum needed to create Satanic music in the form of Black Metal: a guitar, drums and a voice. With this simplistic formula, I believe that this adds to the magic of our hymns. You can do so much with so little, it is all about how creative you can or want to be, it is about your capabilities.”
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VhOFOTrCQPE]
Honeyblood
Back to the UK once more – it has always made a surprising amount of noise for such a small nation. Scotland’s Honeyblood are excellent proof that garage bands and rock have nothing to do with gender. The duo, Stina Tweeddale and Shona McVicar, banded together after meeting at a shared gig with their previous bands. Looking to have more autonomy over their writing, the two started playing together. They had originally planned to bring in more members, but after playing a few shows as a two piece they realised they really couldn’t think of anything that was missing. Bridging elements of garage rock and 90s indie, Honeyblood make excellent lo-fi rock to mosh to. Early releases felt like DIY cassette recordings; all raw appeal and slightly muffled, in a pleasant way. Their 2016 release Ready For The Magic, comes ahead of their sophomore album Babes Never Die. The duo have lost nothing of that rawness but the single has a lot more heat, almost edging into punk territory.
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=04S6K1jlOkI]
Image: Spin
Just a week ahead of the release of the latest album from Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, they have unveiled the first track from the record. Skeleton Tree will be the sixteenth studio album from the outfit, and Jesus Alone is the first song to be heard from it.
A cinematic and haunting track, Jesus Alone captures something in-between the 1994 album Let Love In and the band’s most recent record Push The Sky Away. Looming instrumentation pulsates with near industrial bass and strings, while a keening in the background is reminiscent of a raptor bird in flight.
Cave’s vocals drop right down into almost spoken word, something like Do You Love Me, as he narrates sordid scenes. The more melodic build moves into the sort of territory he was covering in 2013 however; ambient and filmic but lighter and more poetic than the menace of his ’90s persona.
Released along with an accompanying visual, the clip for Jesus Alone is taken from the forthcoming feature film One More Time With Feeling. Directed by Andrew Dominik (Chopper, The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, Killing Them Softly), the feature follows the writing and recording of the album, against the backdrop of Cave’s grief at the tragic death of his teenage son.
Check out the video for Jesus Alone below, a sparse black and white accounting of the recording of the track. Anyone who saw 20,000 Days On Earth will recognise the same intent and genius that emanates from Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds as they perform.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9iGxoJnygW8
One More Time With Feeling will premiere next week at the Venice Film Festival, and Skeleton Tree will be released the following day on September 9. The album will be available on CD and vinyl, as well as across digital platforms.
Image: Rolling Stone
Just when Frank Ocean fans were losing all hope, producer Malay weighed in with the stern reminder that “art cannot be rushed”. Elaborating on that point, he continued “It’s about making sure the perfect aesthetic for the situation has been reached. To do that takes constant tweaking, trial and error. That goes for any creative situation.”
As much as Ocean’s sophomore album, and the method of its belated arrival, have been thoroughly dissected, this statement struck me as interesting. From a creative standpoint, the idea that art cannot be accomplished to deadline holds a lot of water, but surely you would have to be fairly naive to believe that recording an album is a solely creative venture?
The concept of a profiteering, greed-founded music industry is hardly new. Label heads are still often imagined as cigar-smoking fat cats, wedged into their leather-bound chairs in their enormous and opulent offices; a safe distance from the actual music, but very close to the accounts. Of course, this is a caricature, but it does well to illustrate the perception of record labels as businesses first and foremost and patrons of creativity second.
Recent years have seen enough scrambling and maneuvering on the part of labels and publishers, trying to swing a decent profit from a rapidly changing industry, to convince even the most clueless onlooker that it is not all about the music. Which brings me to the question; do signed artists really have the freedom to create “art”?
Music history is littered with examples of artists suffering under contractual obligations from labels. Even this year, following Kesha’s battle with Kemosabe Records, we have seen how damaging and obstructive a binding record deal can be to an artist. It is also particularly common for artists to fall foul of their agreement to produce a specified number of releases.
Kesha after court ruling. Image via Mashable
A common term in recording contracts is a “minimum-delivery clause”, which states that the artists must produce a minimum number of releases during a certain time frame. Often with the caveat that the material is to be of acceptable quality to the label, this can safely be viewed as an assurance of return on investment. And the bottom line is that, to a label, an artist is an investment with a view to profit.
A musician and their work is essentially a commodity, owned and controlled to varying degrees by the record label. The label finances the artists, who’s product, in turn, then finances the label – and hopefully themselves. So once an artist has received the settlement as dictated by their contract, how long will a label wait to see a return on the money that they have put into that musician?
I find it hard to believe that either large or small corporations would happily cool their heels while one of their roster continually fails to release material. Is the appreciation for art really higher than the industry’s drive for profit?
History would indicate that the answer to that is no. There are too many bitter, disappointed recordings from artists forced into the studio by their contractual obligations. See The Rolling Stones’ Schoolboy Blues, more usually known as ‘Cocksucker Blues”, as a good example. And even when not purposefully sabotaged, material recorded under duress rarely seems to perform well.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h15YuPqzLHk
So how did Frank Ocean manage to spend four years working on his follow up to Channel Orange? “Release dates” came and went, with radio silence from the Def Jam/Universal camp – which could hint at either an internal battle, or their blessing that Ocean take his own sweet time. But since the release of his visual album Endless and then Blond almost immediately after, it appears that maybe we were actually waiting for Frank to finish up some serious legal maneuvering.
It was reported that Def Jam paid out up to $2 million in recording costs for the forthcoming album from Ocean, at the time thought to be titled Boys Don’t Cry. Since then it has been suggested that the singer repaid those costs via outside investors and severing his ties to Def Jam and its parent, Universal, buying back his recordings and paving the way for his own label venture. So while Endless fulfilled his previous obligations with UMG, the “proper” album Blond, a completely separate entity, by far overshadowed what was essentially an extended music video.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=poWhJuFFAU4
After four long years, Def Jam and Universal are stuck with an “album” that is not available for sale, while Ocean effectively won a much bigger stake in profits from his already hugely successful sophomore record. Released just twenty four hours later as an Apple Music exclusive, UMG reacted quickly by placing a ban on any future streaming exclusives via any of its labels. But not before losing out on one of the biggest releases of 2016.
On the other less cynical hand, critics have argued that Blond stands as a true testament to why musicians should not be rushed. The term “mass produced” is often applied to modern music, a byword for a lesser product, negatively casting a baleful eye at manufactured bands and shows like The Voice. If fast food is the lowest point on the scale for gourmets, then formulaic, mass produced music might place similarly for music lovers.
Fans may have become irritated with Ocean’s apparent laissez-faire attitude, as he cruised parties and global destinations rather than staying chained to the studio. Explaining his hiatus with the flimsy excuse that he was simply off having a good time, actually, it may be that all that “living” made Blond what it is.
Similarly, New Zealand pop star Lorde has come under fire for the time it has taken her to release her second album. Although she has assured nagging fans that it is written and in production stages, it is worth remembering that Lorde is only nineteen. If “art” is to be the expression of meaningful and worthy subject matter, shouldn’t artists be allowed the time to bring together something that is actually worthwhile?
Image via Instagram
From both sides, there is an argument for musicians not to be pressurised into releasing material before they deem it to be ready. Creatively, a second rate job will hardly win fans or acclaim for their career. Being forced to release substandard material can surely only have a negative affect on an artist. And from a business standpoint, as Blond demonstrated, a perfectly finished article will perform regardless of delay. Imagine the damage to Ocean’s career if such a long awaited record had disappointed.
Record deals are still highly confidential, so we have no way of knowing if these artists truly have labels breathing down their necks for releases. And perhaps it is the ease of music consumption today, with online streaming, that throws the waiting period into such sharp relief? Demand is definitely high, from all sides, which is why it is so important that quality matches up to the expectation.
Image: Hongkiat