This is one of Nasum's songs for the Really Fast compilation (Volume 9). Each band on the compilation is given three and a half minutes, and, doing a bit of research, Anders Jakobson discovered (this is all according to the liner notes he wrote for the Grind Finale set) that Red-Tape Trash Survey had put the greatest number of songs into that three and a half minutes, with five songs. So, they set out to top the record, and ended up with nine songs. "Red Tape Suckers" is sort of a tongue-in-cheek stab at the former record holders. This sense of humour appeals to me.
And so does the riff. And so do the drums. And the vocals.
I'm glad someone went to the "trouble" to make a video for this song.
6.11.08
5.11.08
Oh, Job Hunt...
Today I had an interview. It went reasonably well and, when it was over, the HR woman who made up half the interview panel told me that I could call her (just in case she missed me if/when she called) later in the day, as they would have made a decision some time in the afternoon.
So, at around three thirty I called and she told me that she still needed to check things over, get things approved with the owner and that, if she hadn't called by five thirty, I should try her again.
I did so and she told me that she had received approval to hire me but then, not more than an hour after she received word, one of their other contracts for November and December had been cancelled on them. So, because the people doing that job are already working for the company, it behooved them to transfer those workers to the project I would have been participating in.
So close.
She did, however, tell me that she would try to get in touch with some of the other companies with whom they're involved to see if anyone needed a worker. I appreciated that. And her genuine disappointment at the falling through of my possible employment.
So close.
So, at around three thirty I called and she told me that she still needed to check things over, get things approved with the owner and that, if she hadn't called by five thirty, I should try her again.
I did so and she told me that she had received approval to hire me but then, not more than an hour after she received word, one of their other contracts for November and December had been cancelled on them. So, because the people doing that job are already working for the company, it behooved them to transfer those workers to the project I would have been participating in.
So close.
She did, however, tell me that she would try to get in touch with some of the other companies with whom they're involved to see if anyone needed a worker. I appreciated that. And her genuine disappointment at the falling through of my possible employment.
So close.
Cassandra Wilson - Red River Valley
I first heard this song on CBC RadioTwo, back when I was working at Vesey's. I was working in the small former sometimes greenhouse attached to the back of the equipment building. The corrugated plastic siding of which was yellowed and cracking. The next season, the equipment department transformed it into the washbay for golf carts and mowers. And used it as a breakroom, though it was not all that comfortable on overly bright and hot days. So, to get back to my story: I was sitting in the little greenhouse, transplanting little sprouts from fiber paks:
in which they grew in groups of at least six to individual pots for each sprout. Sitting on a stool, leaning on an almost rotting wooden shelf, listening to CBC RadioTwo on a radio that had difficulties maintaining clear reception. I think I was listening to Studio Sparks, hosted by Eric Friesen (one of my favourite radio hosts; he always sounded so personable, someone I could sit down and chat with about all sorts of musics). This song came on; that first arpeggiated chord and the resounding, dirty twang that followed, the sparse, almost empty expanse of the song, hooked me. I slowed down with the transplanting; I held my breath; I turned up the radio and listened to the static and volume pitch and yaw until finally settling comfortably into something barely louder than what I'd started with.
Then Wilson's voice entered. These are the only two instruments throughout the song: the lone, mournful slide guitar and the full, expressive voice.
I snatched up a plastic planting stake, grabbed my Sharpie and wrote "Cassandra Wilson - Red River Valley" across it and admonished myself to find this song. I searched online when I got home, learned the name of the album, went to the since expired music store in the Charlottetown Mall and, to my surprise, found the album and learned that Marc Ribot is featured on it (though not this song)!
And, though the rest of the album pales in comparison to Wilson's rendition of this classic, it's a pretty strong release.
The way the guitar and voice play across each other——dance, even——is exceptional. They are entwined, enmeshed, they strive together to create a beautifully melancholy version of this song, pulling it up from the mire of countrified melody into some sort of almost ethereal, spiritual, rarefied experience.
DOWNLOAD!
A side note: until I can find a better way (for example: somewhere [free, obviously] to host audio which I could then stream in my blog, I'm going to use rapidshare for downloading. Of course, this will only be for the songs I can't find videos for on YouTube or as an audio stream elsewhere. I'm open to suggestions on this, so if you know of anything, please let me know.)
in which they grew in groups of at least six to individual pots for each sprout. Sitting on a stool, leaning on an almost rotting wooden shelf, listening to CBC RadioTwo on a radio that had difficulties maintaining clear reception. I think I was listening to Studio Sparks, hosted by Eric Friesen (one of my favourite radio hosts; he always sounded so personable, someone I could sit down and chat with about all sorts of musics). This song came on; that first arpeggiated chord and the resounding, dirty twang that followed, the sparse, almost empty expanse of the song, hooked me. I slowed down with the transplanting; I held my breath; I turned up the radio and listened to the static and volume pitch and yaw until finally settling comfortably into something barely louder than what I'd started with.
Then Wilson's voice entered. These are the only two instruments throughout the song: the lone, mournful slide guitar and the full, expressive voice.
I snatched up a plastic planting stake, grabbed my Sharpie and wrote "Cassandra Wilson - Red River Valley" across it and admonished myself to find this song. I searched online when I got home, learned the name of the album, went to the since expired music store in the Charlottetown Mall and, to my surprise, found the album and learned that Marc Ribot is featured on it (though not this song)!
And, though the rest of the album pales in comparison to Wilson's rendition of this classic, it's a pretty strong release.
The way the guitar and voice play across each other——dance, even——is exceptional. They are entwined, enmeshed, they strive together to create a beautifully melancholy version of this song, pulling it up from the mire of countrified melody into some sort of almost ethereal, spiritual, rarefied experience.
DOWNLOAD!
A side note: until I can find a better way (for example: somewhere [free, obviously] to host audio which I could then stream in my blog, I'm going to use rapidshare for downloading. Of course, this will only be for the songs I can't find videos for on YouTube or as an audio stream elsewhere. I'm open to suggestions on this, so if you know of anything, please let me know.)
4.11.08
Tori Amos - Raining Blood
When I first heard (this was before it was released) about Strange Little Girls, I was pretty excited. Number one, I love Tori Amos and, number two, I really like covers. A lot. And I was really excited about her plans for the songs. How she intended to (and succeeded at) a new vision, a reinterpretation, not only of the sounds and structures of the songs, but also the intentions, the meanings of (at least some of) the songs.
And "Raining Blood" comes out a big winner for me, in some respects. Mostly because of how chillingly she transforms a pretty much classic thrash tune. Sure, the Slayer tune is good, but it lacks in everything except rifftasticness and speed. She imbues the song with emotion, with atmosphere, with scope and depth.
Amos' version is haunting. Spine-tingling. And expansive. The drone which carries throughout the piece draws everything toward it and provides a shifting foundation, like storm clouds rolling through. And Amos' vocals float over the top, a harbinger of doom, an ill wind blowing through.
It's too bad Slayer's not this dark and ominous sounding...
And "Raining Blood" comes out a big winner for me, in some respects. Mostly because of how chillingly she transforms a pretty much classic thrash tune. Sure, the Slayer tune is good, but it lacks in everything except rifftasticness and speed. She imbues the song with emotion, with atmosphere, with scope and depth.
Amos' version is haunting. Spine-tingling. And expansive. The drone which carries throughout the piece draws everything toward it and provides a shifting foundation, like storm clouds rolling through. And Amos' vocals float over the top, a harbinger of doom, an ill wind blowing through.
It's too bad Slayer's not this dark and ominous sounding...
3.11.08
Laurie Anderson - O Superman
I first heard this song in the Women, Gender and Music course I took at Dal when I was going to King's.
The class was, if I remember correctly, in the Dalhousie Arts Centre——the same building that is home to the Rebecca Cohn Auditorium. The room our class was in had a pretty decent sound system, a projector and a large screen at the front of the room. We watched the video (included below——I highly recommend watching it in its entirety) and i sat stunned, silent, awed. From that first note straight through to the end. And every time I've listened to it since then, it's still really resonated with me. It's a powerful, moving piece of music. And a wonderful experiment, too.
Anderson was quite a pioneer with the whole electronic music thing, invented some cool things, including "a tape-bow violin that uses recorded magnetic tape on the bow instead of horsehair and a magnetic tape head in the bridge." (stolen from the Wikipedia article about her) She uses that on, among other things, the United States Live 5LP set that I'm slowly working my way through. She was all about using pitch-bending effects to alter her voice, to present the entire spectrum of range for the human voice through just one person. Things like that. She had Things to say, too. And would not, from what little I know, hold back. Sort of an inspirational person, really.
This song is totally one of my favourites. And I don't mean one of my favourite Laurie Anderson songs (although that is also true), but just one of my Favourite Songs. For real.
The class was, if I remember correctly, in the Dalhousie Arts Centre——the same building that is home to the Rebecca Cohn Auditorium. The room our class was in had a pretty decent sound system, a projector and a large screen at the front of the room. We watched the video (included below——I highly recommend watching it in its entirety) and i sat stunned, silent, awed. From that first note straight through to the end. And every time I've listened to it since then, it's still really resonated with me. It's a powerful, moving piece of music. And a wonderful experiment, too.
Anderson was quite a pioneer with the whole electronic music thing, invented some cool things, including "a tape-bow violin that uses recorded magnetic tape on the bow instead of horsehair and a magnetic tape head in the bridge." (stolen from the Wikipedia article about her) She uses that on, among other things, the United States Live 5LP set that I'm slowly working my way through. She was all about using pitch-bending effects to alter her voice, to present the entire spectrum of range for the human voice through just one person. Things like that. She had Things to say, too. And would not, from what little I know, hold back. Sort of an inspirational person, really.
This song is totally one of my favourites. And I don't mean one of my favourite Laurie Anderson songs (although that is also true), but just one of my Favourite Songs. For real.
2.11.08
Kanye West - Love Lockdown
This is the first attempt at something I'm going to do my damnedest to keep up with: I'm going to review(/write something about) one song a day (I'm sure I'll do a great job at keeping up with this——just wait: my longest streak will be two days; let's lay bets.). Sometimes (like today), it'll be a song I don't know by an artist I don't know. Sometimes, it'll be a song I've loved for a long time by a favourite artist. And I'll try to include a YouTube link to each one, whatever it may be (whether that means linking to a fan-created video or an official one, it all works out the same).
So, Kanye West's "Love Lockdown." Obviously, I've heard of Kanye West. Mostly from Taylor's gushing. And one day I read an article about West's upcoming album 808s & Heartbreak. I thought it was a pretty wicked title, so I searched around on YouTube for Kanye West, and found "Love Lockdown."
The three-note bass/drum intro, which continues throughout the song, is understatedly wicked; it focuses things, it keeps things on track.
I really like the vocal line in the verses; sure, vocoder may be a bit overused, but I think West's embracement works. It, like the bass/drum loop, is never really overstated.
The only thing that is, really: the choruses. They're sort of involved in an excess, with a driving tribal drum feel. Tribally rococo? Sure. Though this contrast is, certainly, intentional. And, what is more, it works.
Also, I heard that, due to pressure from fans, West is rerecording the song. I don't think it's necessary, but, since I'm not one of his real fans (as this is the first song of his I've heard), I suppose I shouldn't have much of a say in the matter.
It's a pretty swell song, to be sure.
So, Kanye West's "Love Lockdown." Obviously, I've heard of Kanye West. Mostly from Taylor's gushing. And one day I read an article about West's upcoming album 808s & Heartbreak. I thought it was a pretty wicked title, so I searched around on YouTube for Kanye West, and found "Love Lockdown."
The three-note bass/drum intro, which continues throughout the song, is understatedly wicked; it focuses things, it keeps things on track.
I really like the vocal line in the verses; sure, vocoder may be a bit overused, but I think West's embracement works. It, like the bass/drum loop, is never really overstated.
The only thing that is, really: the choruses. They're sort of involved in an excess, with a driving tribal drum feel. Tribally rococo? Sure. Though this contrast is, certainly, intentional. And, what is more, it works.
Also, I heard that, due to pressure from fans, West is rerecording the song. I don't think it's necessary, but, since I'm not one of his real fans (as this is the first song of his I've heard), I suppose I shouldn't have much of a say in the matter.
It's a pretty swell song, to be sure.
1.11.08
Jolie Holland makes a GREAT SHOW!; or: How to Win Gabrielle's Respect (or, at least, one way to do it)
The title, part one:
Though I prefer the older albums, which carried an atmosphere of an earlier era, the new album still holds my interest, as Jolie Holland is one of my favourite singers. She has a voice that is uncannily well suited to bluesy, countryish folky music; a sort of slow, drawling lilt (which is, as Gabrielle pointed out at the show, lower pitched than her bass player fellow's [more on him later]) that fairly drips with a sincere emotion and a clear——a lucid——tone.
I would have liked to have heard a couple of my favourites ("I Wanna Die" [more on that later] and "Stubborn Beast"), though I did get to hear my other two favourites, so I won't complain too much; these being: "Adieu False Heart" and "Old Fashion Morphine." Though the latter does work better when it involves horns as it does on the album. Still an awesome song, though, and played with just the right sort of sway and slide.
Everything was played superbly (though I think the other guitarist could've been turned down a wee bit during most sections).
The "more on that later" for the bass player: he told a whale joke that, though incredibly, geekily funny, I can't repeat here. Not because it's naughty ('cause when would that ever stop me, am I right?), but because it's a joke that needs to be told out loud.
The "more on that later" for "I Wanna Die": see, I would've loved to have heard it live, but, really now, I didn't feel right about yelling "I wanna die" at the show. Maybe someone would have misinterpreted things. Also, I wanted to ask, after the show, if it was in any way referencing "House of the Rising Sun" in a continuation of the American revisioning of old broadside ballads. Since I didn't actually get the chance (big crowds around her), I'll assume the answer is yes. It just makes sense that she'd be involved in the continuous evolution of ballads, in the malleability of the form or in a commentary on it.
It was a great show, no doubt, and I'm glad I got to see it.
The title, part two:
You can:
— be of a more diminutive stature than anticipated when appearing on stage.
— drink (white) wine from the bottle on stage and follow that up later on with what was (probably) rum 'n' Coke.
— wear a ginormous ring on one of the fingers of your fretting hand and still manage things with no visible difficulty.
— be pretty much awesome (this last one, I think, might be a requirement [i.e., there's no wiggle room on this one]).
Wicked times.
Though I prefer the older albums, which carried an atmosphere of an earlier era, the new album still holds my interest, as Jolie Holland is one of my favourite singers. She has a voice that is uncannily well suited to bluesy, countryish folky music; a sort of slow, drawling lilt (which is, as Gabrielle pointed out at the show, lower pitched than her bass player fellow's [more on him later]) that fairly drips with a sincere emotion and a clear——a lucid——tone.
I would have liked to have heard a couple of my favourites ("I Wanna Die" [more on that later] and "Stubborn Beast"), though I did get to hear my other two favourites, so I won't complain too much; these being: "Adieu False Heart" and "Old Fashion Morphine." Though the latter does work better when it involves horns as it does on the album. Still an awesome song, though, and played with just the right sort of sway and slide.
Everything was played superbly (though I think the other guitarist could've been turned down a wee bit during most sections).
The "more on that later" for the bass player: he told a whale joke that, though incredibly, geekily funny, I can't repeat here. Not because it's naughty ('cause when would that ever stop me, am I right?), but because it's a joke that needs to be told out loud.
The "more on that later" for "I Wanna Die": see, I would've loved to have heard it live, but, really now, I didn't feel right about yelling "I wanna die" at the show. Maybe someone would have misinterpreted things. Also, I wanted to ask, after the show, if it was in any way referencing "House of the Rising Sun" in a continuation of the American revisioning of old broadside ballads. Since I didn't actually get the chance (big crowds around her), I'll assume the answer is yes. It just makes sense that she'd be involved in the continuous evolution of ballads, in the malleability of the form or in a commentary on it.
It was a great show, no doubt, and I'm glad I got to see it.
The title, part two:
You can:
— be of a more diminutive stature than anticipated when appearing on stage.
— drink (white) wine from the bottle on stage and follow that up later on with what was (probably) rum 'n' Coke.
— wear a ginormous ring on one of the fingers of your fretting hand and still manage things with no visible difficulty.
— be pretty much awesome (this last one, I think, might be a requirement [i.e., there's no wiggle room on this one]).
Wicked times.
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