Difficult to remain completely untouched by the death of Michael Jackson. A deeply troubled soul of course, but a great performer with a wonderful voice who also made a serious contribution to the world of contemporary dance.
Richard Williams sums it up especially well in this piece for the Guardian.
I have to admit to being a little sceptical when my wife announced that subsequent to a rather heated conversation with a group of friends over the musical abilities of The Stylistics, we had been brought tickets to see those iconic peddlars of 70s soul at the Indigo2.
Last evening, the eight of us pitched up at the Millenium Dome (as it shall always be know to me) to take our seats in that rather impressive smaller venue for what turned out to be a surprisingly enjoyable show.
Alas, only two original Stylistics now remain. The original falsetto lead, presumably unable any longer to hit the high notes, departed several years ago and now tours as The New Stylistics. His replacement, former Delfonics frontman Eban Brown, was superb.
Having only been consciously aware of their 1975 chart-topper, I can give you anything, but my love, it was remarkable just how many of their other songs had been etched into my impressionable young memory more than thirty years ago. It turns out they had 10 UK top ten hits between 1972 and 1976, among them many of the best Philadelphia soul tracks ever recorded.
Last night their singing was impeccable, their backing band, The Style Orchestra, was top notch, and their orange suits were just perfect. But perhaps the highlight of the evening was seeing so many middle-aged people having the time of their lives.
Here's the original line-up singing You make me feel brand new back in 1973:
As you may have noticed, this blog has been rather quiet of late. I blame a combination of blogger apathy and a careless loss of control over my work/life balance. In this equation, I count writing as life, and the day job which pays the mortgage, as work. So, I've been waiting for something special to get me writing again, and last night, at the O2, that something special happened.
The last time I saw Leonard Cohen on stage was when he took a hysterically applauded bow at the end of Philip Glass’s musical rendering of his collection of poems, The Book of Longing, at the Barbican last year. On that occasion, many Cohen fans, apparently misled by the publicity, left early, once they realised the great man’s contribution on the night was limited to his recorded voice.
Last night at the O2, 18,000 fans finally got the chance, after a 16 year absence, to see the great man ply his trade on a London stage. And what a performance it was.
Having wowed a new generation of fans at Glastonbury a couple of weeks ago, and with every performance on his current world tour garnering five star reviews, expectations couldn’t have been higher. Not that Cohen showed any signs of pressure as he jogged onto stage and, once prolonged applause subsided, went straight into Dance Me To The End Of Love.
Cohen’s remarkable voice was as beautiful as ever. Once reviewer dared suggest that his live performances were sometimes too close to the studio recordings. But this is to miss his subtleties of interpretation and timing. He is the perfect live performer. And over four decades he has built up an unmatched repertoire. By the time he began Sisters of Mercy (third or fourth encore?) I couldn’t believe, after so many great songs, he still had such a classic left to play.
But last night was not just about Cohen. His collaborator, Sharon Robinson, has one of the finest female voices I’ve ever heard. With Robinson and the Webb Sisters, Charley and Hattie, Cohen has assembled the best backing vocal line-up imaginable. Indeed, he seems to have persuaded some of the finest musicians in the world to join his band. All were superb: Javier Mas on 12-string guitar and Dino Soldo on sax, harmonica and the weird synth-type wind instrument which Cohen appropriately calls ‘The Instrument of Wind’ were especially good, but for me Neil Larsen on the Hammond B3 stood out. It’s my favourite instrument and Larsen plays it superbly.
Much has been written about the reasons for Cohen embarking on a world tour well into his seventies, a decade and a half after retiring. While one can only have sympathy for the way he was ripped off by his former lover/manager; had he not so suffered, thousands of people would have been denied the opportunity to see a true master of his craft, at the peak of his powers. I try to avoid hyperbole wherever possible, but I don’t remember ever enjoying a concert quite as much as I did last night.
The full set list, courtesy of Gerry Smith, is available here. And the London Evening Standard review is here.
And here he is singing Closing Time on the current tour:
Andreas Whittam-Smith was at the final concert of Daniel Barenboim's Beethoven sonata cycle yesterday, and writes about the experience in today's Independent.
I have a piece at comment is free this morning, prompted by Daniel Barenboim's series of Beethoven sonata recitals in London, which conclude this afternoon.
No reason for posting this except that it's Sunday, and I've just been reminded that it was released more than twenty years ago. That discovery made me feel rather old, but listening to it again soon sorted me out. Surely one of the best pop videos ever made?
Thanks to Andy Woodis at the Peter Hammill Yahoo group for drawing my attention to this highly amusing piece from Paul Morley that I missed before Christmas.
A must for anyone whose love of popular music developed in tandem with their devotion to Dr Who, Morley gives us his take on which Doctor pop singers of various eras most resemble. So, for example, James Blunt is Colin Baker (spot on) and Mark E Smith is Patrick Troughton (not so sure).
Most intersestingly of all, Morley suggests that Hammill (along with Robert Wyatt and Fred Frith) are to be compared with the first television Doctor, William Hartnell because they are "timeless, wise, smart and fearless".
I can think of no better description of the great Van Der Graaf Generator front man, although physically he's a dead ringer for the current incumbent, David Tennant.
What Hammill and the Doctor have in common, obviously, is the ability to reinvent themselves time after time, to appeal to a new audience, and garner rave reviews, as did VDGG when they reformed back in 2005.
They have a gig in April in London, but it sold out weeks ago, I'm afraid.
You may remember the recent post in which I expressed my dissatisfaction with the way great pieces of music are abused for commercial gain. Few performers can have suffered this fate more frequently than one of my favourite groups, The Penguin Cafe Orchestra.
One of the most original and innovative groups of the late twentieth century, under the leadership of their founder, the remarkable Simon Jeffes, they developed a unique style which mixed classical and folk music with elements of rock.
Tragically, Jeffes died a decade ago still in his forties, although surviving members of the band have recently got back together.
Many of their pieces have been used in television commercials over the years, and currently MFI are using a version of Music for a Found Harmonium in their latest advertisement for kitchens. It's a pretty dire ad, so here, instead, is a performance of that piece recorded for the BBC back in 1989. Just fabulous (even with the rolling credits!)
Also on yesterday's Saturday Live (see below), Film Critic and Guardian columnist, Charlie Brooker, selected his inheritance tracks. It's a regular feature, a kind of mini desert island discs in which a listener or celeb selects a piece of music they inherited from their parents and another they would like to leave to future generations.
For the latter, Brooker chose music from Darren Aaronofsky's mind-blowing film, Requiem for a Dream, specifically Lux Aeterna, the soundtrack's recurring theme. The score was written by Clint Mansell (of Pop Will Eat Itself fame) and performed by the Kronos Quartet. I saw them play it quite brilliantly at The Barbican a couple of years ago. You can listen to it here:
While explaining his selection, Brooker lamented how so much sublime music is nowadays hijacked for use in commercials or junk television without ever crediting the composer or performer. This particular piece has now been appropriated by Sky Sports News, which our 13 year old watches almost continuously.
Brooker's observations gave me the idea for an occasional series in which I'll post details of pieces of music I like that have been abused in this way, with details of the original, and, if the new commercial application warrants it, a look at how its been used.
The first in the series is from the new XBOX Halo 3 cinema advert, which uses Chopin's wonderful Raindrop Prelude. Although I'm no fan of gaming, I have to admit in this case the ad agency has made rather good use of it, as you can see below.
