Now Playing Tracks

Massive Attack, “Group Four” (1998).

Sometimes I think I have the best parents in the entire world.  Quite literally, out of all the parents that exist, my parents become The Best that ever were, that are and that will continue to be in the entirety of human history.  This week’s shuffle has provoked this thought right now because this is just some of the fabulous music that I was brought up on.  Mum and Dad were hipsters before there was such a thing as hipsters. 

I was brought up on Radiohead, Portishead, Jeff Buckley and Massive Attack, to name a few and I suspect that this is just one of the reasons that I will be the coolest person you’ll ever be blessed enough to meet (that is, if my head can fit out of my bedroom door anymore). The album that this song features on, Mezzanine, is dark and moody as all shiz but fabulously balanced with delicate vocal touches.  This particular song has an edgy as funk guitar riff as our constant companion, some talking poetry and some creepily eerie vocals from Elizabeth Fraser. 

This is a song that has layers like onions have layers (thank you Shrek).  And like an onion it’s not for every-body.  The bodies that this is for are those that like to sit in dimly lit rooms, probably swirling with cigarette smoke, watching an art-house film with the sound off and this song playing instead.  That body is probably wearing a pretentious beret too and is dressed all in black.  It is the jerk that everyone loves to hate. 

I think I need to take up smoking and put on my beret so I can fully encapsulate the douche-baggery this song nearly demands.  Despite that fairly negative statement I only have positive thoughts for this song.  Urgh, I could eat it because I love it so much.

For University of Auckland, Craccum Magazine 2013, Issue 9.

Roseanna Gamlen-Greene, “Birds”, 2010.

Oh this is a lovely treat.  This is one of the newest songs to my music library.  I first heard it a couple of days ago in fact on KiwiFM (which may or may not be one of the best radio stations for new music).  They have a show in the afternoons called Play It Strange which is dedicated to showcasing music from students.  There is some amateur stuff in there, but for the most part the quality and the depth of the music is pretty impressive.  Kiwis are a talented bunch it would seem. 

I head “Birds” and I was immediately struck.  It’s one I’ve played over and over in this short time.  The vocals are quite stunning.  Gamlen-Greene is like Hayley Westenra, only interesting*  Sorry Hales, but she’s kicking your ass in the interest factor.  The song is simply beautiful.  It’s resounding with vocal layers with an impressive range, and it’s accompanied by some fabulously lovely strings, cello deep enough to bury your head right into. 

I hunted her down on ol’ FB and the other songs aren’t quite as sophistifunk as this ditty, but she has some serious talent.  She’s definitely an act I’d like to hear more of, one who should be snapped up and be recording some more beauty tracks like this.  I highly recommend you chase this girl down.  At least this song.  Not necessarily the girl, that’s a bit weird.

*Disclaimer:  The only time I’ve ever really heard Haley Westenra is when I’m on hold to the bank, so this may not be the most well educated statement I’ve made.  For those that adore Ms. Westenra, I apologise.

For University of Auckland, Craccum Magazine 2013, Issue 7.

Vashti Bunyan, “Coldest Night of the Year” (1970).

What I like about this is that this is music by a woman who was one of the throngs back in her day.  She could sing, certainly, she could be arranged well with other folk singers and musicians, but I think she was simply a dime a dozen back then.  Then enter the early 00’s where the world is recuperating from the musical hangover of artists of the 90’s.  Well, not artists.  I mean to say boy bands.  The One Direction’sof those oversized jeans and see-through muscle shirt days such as NSYNC, Boys II Men (a name I always found completely ridonk as a young’in) and Westlife.  Somebody was hit with a sensible stick and Bunyan’s collection of songs was re-released in all its glory.  And it is glorious.

This song is probably the pop-iest of those on the album.  The rest of her songs are more teenage girl kind of moody, and she’s not caught in the duet of this song.  They’re certainly romantic but in a sad and realistic sort of way.  I’m a sucker for a bit of romance but this song is a little vomitus, and as the title suggests, it explores the ingenious idea of two bodies keeping themselves warm on a cold, and no doubt lonely night.  Fortunately for Bunyan, my rather stern analysis of her song ends there.  What this song also has, that wins me over is a melody that reminds me a lot of The Mama’s and Papa’s, which is more than a spot ok with me. 

As The Mama’s and The Papa’s say “Monday Monday, can’t trust that day.”  And as Monday approaches, so does my cut off for submitting this and also so does my test approach from whose study I am avoiding.  Dear reader, I hope that from this you learn three things. 

I’m now filling up a word count.

Boy bands are not a thing that should ever be. 

The Mama’s and The Papa’s and Vashti Bunyan are part of what made the 70’s and now the 00’s a little inch better.  Consume them and be greater people.  Amen.

For University of Auckland, Craccum Magazine 2013, Issue 6.

Goldfrapp, “Felt Mountain” (2000).

Hooray!  I love this.  I love this so much.  When I was back at school before most of you were born I’m sure, this was an album of mum’s that saw me through an average time.  It wasn’t a bad time, it was a decent enough time, and this album of which this is the title track, was there making the average a bit more interesting.  Also, the lead singer is called Alison Goldfrapp.  I always thought she had the most beautiful last name.  Certainly beats being named after a body part! 

What I love about Ms. G’s voice is that it’s simultaneously gentle and powerful, and she whistles and coos and is just generally beautiful.  This song doesn’t have lyrics.  I think I would in fact consider that what G’s doing is serenading her microphone in a most ethereal way, making vocal love to it.  The song opens with almost a yodel.  It sounds weird to suggest that’s what is going on but it’s the closest thing I can suggest.  Well, a yodel that turns into a birdcall.  The music itself is driven by a soft bass drum beat and a whip (oh, sassy) and around this is built some of the most gorgeous tones and curious noises.  I imagine electric kazoos, only less annoying.

This album is definitely one of my favourites.  On it is a song, Human, with the best lyrics of all of the lyrics, “are you human, or a dud” and when I look at it typed it doesn’t look like much, it’s down to the way she sings it…  so, not necessarily best lyrics – doh, invalid argument.  Regardless, this woman, just … oh, just clever.  She has a very smart music partner in Will Gregory who masters a synth like a mother flippin’ baws, a mother flippin 00’s pro kindda baws!

This is the sort of music that if it isn’t in a James Bond movie, it should be.  It’s got the strings and the synth and the kind of Shirley Bassey vocals and the disco-ee beats that just make it a glorious feast to my hungry ears.  I missed her in my ears.  I missed her.   I’m glad she returned to me.

For University of Auckland, Craccum Magazine 2013, Issue 5.

Pogo, “Alohomora” (2009).

I’ve decided I’m not sure Shuffle Diaries was my smartest idea.  I keep getting toughies and it makes me question my sensibilities.  Where the [s]hell does my music come from?!  This guy, an Aussie named Nick Bertke with the stage name Pogo, is at least a bit interesting initially.  This gentlefellow was 20 when he vomited this baby out of his music-making orifice (ew- what even is that?!) and is an out and out criminal, being banned from the U.S. for not having a working visa. Total bad-assery there! 

If you don’t know anything about Pogo you should look him up.  His stuff is a spot interesting.  For example the sound of this entire song: its beat, its ethereal nature, the ‘lyrics’, every sound that worms its way into your earholes, come straight from those popular boy wizard movies, with the dude that wears the glasses.  You know the ones.

This is how Pogo works.  His songs are from films and television shows directly, without any added sound from him.  He just cuts and pastes them in a pick and mix of sound.  It’s clever to be sure, but mostly nonsensical.  My suggestion would be to reserve Pogo to study time.  The lyrics could never distract you because rarely are they even a constructed sentence.  For example the lyrics for this baby reads “butter mellow.  Alohomora”.  I like to think it’s “bottom yellow” because I’m a small child and like toilet humour more than I like the concept of mellow butter.  Also, ‘alohomora’ is not a word. 

It is unfortunate that Pogo was an artist that I went a little download crazy for – he risks showing up again in Shuffle Diaries and next time I don’t know what I’d write.  Certainly he initially makes a decent enough impression, but his songs also begin to closely resemble one another by the time you get to the second and third one.  They do have the pop-culture references working in their favour though.  I feel like I’ve finally watched a Harry Potter film now.  Or at least read the book.  If I had a bucket list it’d be ticked off in a jiffy – my bucket list being as bad ass as Pogo’s gangsta criminal life it would seem - *she sighs and buries her face into Vanity Fair.

For University of Auckland, Craccum Magazine 2013, Issue 4.

Gavin Friday, “Angel” (1995).

This song is from my most most most most favourite movie soundtrack of all the three movie soundtracks that I own.  From Baz Lurman’s Romeo and Juliet comes a plethora of good quality songs, one after another.  Whilst this isn’t my favourite off the CD (yes, the real, physical near defunct creation that is the Compact Disc), it is a goody. 

Gavin Friday exudes 90’s.  As with a lot of my music, I don’t know much about the artists who make them and so when I looked up this fellow on our techo-Bible, Google, I was not at all surprised to see slicked back, greased up hair, Ross-styles, and Mr Friday comes complete with a delightful earring in his right ear and pout to go with it.  What a babe.  Kind of like Chis Isaak only less cool and less good looking and more hard to look at.

As I was playing this song over and over, the 90’s come laughing out of the tune with Seal-esque sounds in the background: tinkling piano and then some uber hip computer echoes hidden in the midst.  And then over the top are layered Gav’s entirely feminine tones.  It’s a brilliant song.  It really is.  I wish I’d shuffled across the song ”Everybody’s Free” from the soundtrack instead.  The kid in that, Quindon Tarver… urgh, I could marry him!  Except he’s probably more grown up now which means he likely can’t sing the way he used to.  American Idol wouldn’t take him so I guess I shouldn’t.

That’s really beside the point.  I just wanted to add some two cents in regarding another song because I was running out of things to say.  Though, now I consider it, if I’m happy with a young boy singing, I should really be just as happy with a grown up man singing like a young boy.. no?  Well, one must take what one can get in these situations.  So today Gav, you are my man.

For University of Auckland, Craccum Magazine 2013, Issue3

David Bowie, “Reality” (2003)

I risk offending the diehard fans of Bowie, of which I’m sure there are probably more than ten or possibly more, and for that I apologise in advance.  I apologise because my interaction with him is limited.  For so long he has been to me little more than a fellow with a strangely over-dilated left eye and a mullet from the 70’s that would have made the 80’s jealous.  And so when he showed up next on my iTunes list, I cowered and considered cheating by skipping through to another song which was less challenging for me to blab about.  But no, dear reader, I shall pay you the respect you deserve by potentially and accidentally disrespecting the fellow you may deem so admirable.

The song “Reality” from the album of the same name is in my iTunes because I trust my mother.  And my mother trusts the talent of Bowie.  I wouldn’t say she’s a diehard fan but she would have grown up with him in her teen years and she was “like, totally ‘alternative’” back in the day – probably had the same haircut and wore the same makeup but in shades of black. 

This song is not really the Bowie that I know.  The Bowie I know is the one that sings the song that everybody else knows with those lyrics “ground control to Major Tom”.  The Bowie I know was either homosexual, bisexual, heterosexual, all-of-the-sexuals… I don’t know that he knew and that particular Bowie was simultaneously Ziggy Stardust. 

This song, “Reality”, has heavy rock elements.  In fact, heavy is a good word for it.  Smashing drums and guitar open up the song like being punched in the ear with a fist full of sound.  If I carefully consider the song “Space Oddity” however, with its recognisable and gently melodic bridge while Major Tom sits in his tin can, I can see reflections of this in this more recent song - just as a gentle reminder of the Bowie of old(er).  We have a spot of a reprieve from the “woo-hoo’s” and “ha ha’s” for the briefest of acoustic guitar interludes… and then we’re back in it.  Of course Bowie’s voice is instantly recognisable.  There’s no chance of not recognising it even if I hadn’t read the song title.  But perhaps I need some more lessons in the art of Bowie-loving.  Or perhaps he’s one of those artists whose newer stuff is just not at the same goodness-level of the old stuff.  Mind you, with a new album out this month, and with judging by its single “Where Are We Now?” it might be worth the education.

For University of Auckland, Craccum Magazine 2013, Issue2

Lorde, "Bravado" (2012).

Dear friends and/or enemies – welcome to my little corner to the earth.  From here each week I bestow upon you my thoughts, however inappropriate and unfounded about a song that reached my shuffle.  Here on in, whatever appears on my shuffle will be the song that features in the cleverly named Shuffle Diaries.

Lorde, “Bravado” (2012).  How lovely.  This first song is by a relative new comer to the New Zealand music scene.  She’s sixteen from the olde North Shore region of Takapuna and her real name is Ella.  Sixteen year olds aren’t supposed to be able to make music like this.  When I was sixteen I was singing in my school choir and getting bit parts in the musicals – not singing.  Suffice it to say, I’m a spot envious of her sound.  Nonetheless, I am more than proud of some of the interesting and fun music coming from our wee little shores.  She was recorded somewhat voyeuristically at a school talent contest at age thirteen and then that video got into the hands of Universal who she is now signed to.  Some people just fall into the darndest good luck!  Hooray for pervy voyeurs! 

To the song now, she doesn’t sound to me like a sixteen year old.  The song “Bravado” is a bit eerie and has some simply lovely backing vocals attached, and then because of the age we live in, in enters the classic dance beat to jiggle things up a notch – but gently does it.  I like her.  I’d have her stand behind me just singing in my periphery.  Not right in my ear.  That’s like having sweet nothings whispered in the your earhole and that’d just be weird. 

The EP she released, some of which have free LEGAL downloads is available on her very annoyingly sparse website, lorde.co.nz and it’s worth a listen.  

For University of Auckland, Craccum Magazine 2013, Issue1

“Hummingbird”, written by Chris Neels.

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Chris Neels knows how to write a good little play.  I fear I’ve become a bit of a fan girl because I’ve seen each of his plays in the last couple of years…  and I think this is because they’re just a bunch of nice stories.  Nice sounds a cop out word but it’s what they are.  They certainly deal with un-nice topics, such as death and loss and general wear and tear that comes with being in a partnership with Life, but each story makes me leave feeling like I’ve just watched a good film…  A Hollywood one to be sure, but from the good corner of Hollywood, the “500 Days of Summer” corner.

“Hummingbird” is another of these.  Entering into the dark underbelly of The Basement theatre we mount the bleachers and face a stage set with AstroTurf, a ‘domestic’ space disguised with bare wooden cartons and glass pitchers of milk all about the place.  The stage is brilliant.  It’s a perfect theatrical representation of the New Zealand dairy farm and is used wonderfully.

In true Neels fashion, we are introduced to one of our protagonists, Phoeb (Sophie Henderson), yelling at a closed door, in the rain where a literal shower from above drenches her, delighting us in the audience.  This opening scene sets the play up as another somewhat whimsical and entirely enjoyable and unpretentious experience.

Phoeb returns to the family farm as a last resort and  Brian (Barnaby Fredric), her step-sister’s husband (?) sees Pheob as a crazy woman who needs to grieve her husbands death like a normal person and move on.  Henderson’s characterisation of Phoeb is fantastic.  She’s a subdued maniac, a woman who is convinced that her dead, or rather disappeared husband, has returned to her as a hummingbird and is entirely convincing.  Phoeb’s modus operandi is to join her husband in the sky, making wings from his old shirts with the intention to eventually morph into a hummingbird too.  It’s all very romantic.  But the situation of ‘real life on the farm’ (a.k.a. Brian) attempts to bring her swiftly down to earth, though as the story progresses we watch the two eventually develop a mutual friendship and understanding of the nature of the other.

Chelsea McEwan Millar plays Jude, the protective step-sister who is lonely and isolated.  She is simultaneously alcoholic and desperate to become a mother.  McEwan Millar has timing down to a T.  And for that matter so does Henderson.  You know what, this is a show where all the actors are nearly as strong as all the rest. They’re a solid and cohesive unit who work well together and have been perfectly cast.

There were moments of theatre gimmicks that I couldn’t quite place in terms of their role within the story.  For example, throughout the narrative Brian enters the dimly lit stage, torch in hand, gumboots on foot, to simply peer about whilst ominous music accompanies him.  Unless I missed something it’s never revealed what he’s looking at or if he even finds anything in these repeated moments.  At one point pebbles fall from the sky onto him and I have no idea what this served to do, but to be honest, I don’t actually care.  The play as a whole is very strong and a treat. 

I think “Hummingbird” is the sort of theatre that is for the non-theatre goer as well as the regulars.  With live music from Sean Webb, a regular feature in the Neels repertoire, it is easy listening, easy watching, funny and clever, and as a cheap night out, it’s worth more than the money you pay for it. 

Thanks to Mr Neels and co. from FanGirl#1.

Bloc Party, “Flux” (2007).

You know what I love?  I love hearing a musician who isn’t American, singing without an American accent.  I love that Bloc Party’s lead singer, Kele Okereke, sings with his own accent, as if he’s actually talking and a bit proud of where he comes from.  That’s one of the reasons I like Kiwi artist, Lydia Cole (check out https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uUys4nkys4s).  Her thick Kiwi accent permeates her music and it’s beautiful.  One day she’ll sing about “fush and chups” and then she’ll be famous, renowned throughout the globe for her perfect annunciation of words and all will be well with the world…

Back to Bloc Party now, these folks are a bit darned cool.  I know I say that about a lot of bands, and I will continue to for the rest of my days.  It’s because their skill outdoes mine beyond comprehension and therefore I am in awe.  These blokes do dance music well.  It’s because it’s different and interesting and worth listening to lyrics about.  It’s not all about sex and ‘to the window to the wall, to the sweat drip down my…’<— to be fair though, that’s poetic genius.

‘Flux’ makes me want to do my air punching dance and move around in all sorts of wild circles with ridiculous gesticulations that make people fume with rage at the way I abuse their dancing space and overtake it like a beast.  That was a long sentence.  But it shall stay because this is how I dance to this song: long and grammatically incorrect.  

James Hill, “Billie Jean” (2010).

Ukulele’s are a fad that are welcome to stick around as far as I’m concerned.  A few years ago I went to see Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain when they came to the Auckland Town Hall.  It’s all parts hilarious and all parts mesmerizing.  This fellow, James Hill, a Canadian has some immense skill and is playing at an upcoming concert with Wellington International Ukulele Orchestra in Hastings.  

Might be worth a weekend away…  Anyone that can play teeny tiny guitars so dexterously and sing well enough is worth the watch.

In the meantime, this is where I’ll be spending my afternoon:  http://jameshillmusic.com/man-with-a-love-song

Tricky, “Overcome” (1995).

This guy, urgh, this guy.  He’s dark and broody and what an unfortunately interesting life.  His Dad left before he was born, his mother committed suicide when he was four, he lived with his grandmother and his education wasn’t school but horror movies, and he spent time in jail- just to add a bit more intrigue to the tale of his life.  

The music he produces is mysterious and pushes any such thing as genre binaries.  His album which this song is from, Maxinquaye, named after his mother explores hip hop, dub, electronica, rock and this cool concept of ‘sprechgesang’; the combination of sung and spoken words in music.  

You can definitely see his flavour in Massive Attack’s stuff, Maxinquaye following his involvement with them.  

Also, he’s handsome in an appropriately obscure way and I like looking at him.  Here’s a picture so you can look too.  image

Check this song if you haven’t.  The best, in my opinion, from the album:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F3bBKTdk2Kk

The Festival for Festivilians - Laneway 2013

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This weekend I’ve discovered something that will keep me entertained every Anniversary Weekend from now until the end of eternity - well, my own earth bound version of eternity anyway…  that’s not really a thing… so basically, what I’m trying to say is that every Anniversary Weekend until I die I’ll be at Laneway Festival.  If my virgin experience with it is anything to go by, it can turn me into a Laneway hussy annually without one blip of anything that remotely resembles an argument from me.

And now I shall tell you, avid reader, why this is the case:

1. Laneway is a small enough festival that even on a stonking hot summers day, as it was yesterday, there’s room to move freely without having to fear being bathed in anyone else’s sweat but your own.  There’s room between gyrating bodies so that you too can gyrate beyond what’s usually culturally acceptable.

2.  There was ample food, drink and merchandise vendors.  And sure the food is over priced and you potentially risk eating the most disgraceful hot dog you’ve ever consumed in your life, but the focus on Laneway is definitely the music.  How appropriate is that?!  I think there were maybe four clothing / accessories stalls and a few drinks and food places, but what more do you need?  I bought a hat.  I bought some food and some bevy’s.  And then I listened to the music.

3. The timetable was successfully organised in a way that meant there were very few opportunities to actually miss any of the bands.  With only three stages, the bands overlapped one another by a few minutes if at all and the organizers seemed more than well aware of who the big draw cards would be and planned accordingly with the major artists next door to one another on stage.

4.  The music.  Urgh, who chooses these bands?  Are they a type of demi-god with skills in reading top notch quality human skill directly after it’s been birthed from their loins?!  I imagine this is probably most definitely the case.  What I like about the bands is that they’re not necessarily well known in our shores yet - this is probably why they’re there, because they’re still not popular enough to be too expensive.  I anticipate that this time next year, for example, Alt J’s quick rise to stardom will be too cemented in their own egos for them to deign to come to NZ again without a supreme payoff - here’s hoping my love and affection is enough.

AND NOW ‘THE BEST’ LIST:

BEST AUDIENCE EXPERIENCE:  ’Of Monsters and Men’ - They were  a lot of fun and really knew how to get an audience to join in on it.  I didn’t know all the words to their songs but they taught me some of them and I appreciate that kind of thing immensely.     

BEST SOUND:  ’Alt J’ - These guys were tight.  Their opening was a little intro instrumental.  There were voices but I call it an instrumental because there weren’t lyrics, just some mother flippin’ beautiful harmonies.  Also the drummer has a special place in my heart.  He’s got some mad skills.

BEST HAPPY SURPRISE:  ’Phoenix Foundation’ - I feel like I’m not really a Kiwi when I say that Laneway was really the first I’ve properly heard their music.  And they were not what I expected.  For some reason in my head I had Shapeshifter, whose reggae soul stuff doesn’t really interest me, but these guys - why haven’t I paid more attention (don’t worry - next pay cheque equals your album in my pocket… or ears as it were)?

BEST OVERALL: ‘Bat For Lashes’ - Now this woman is a performer.  She is sweet and I imagine is a total delight in person, but she’s also simultaneously very sexy and knows how to win over her male audience that’s for sure.  Despite “something weird” going on in her ears that had her start a song again, she was enthralling.  My first impression of her, listening online was a spot indifferent to be honest, but after blogging about her “Laura” ditty (http://haemia.tumblr.com/post/40673490577/bat-for-lashes-laura-2012-as-i-count-down), wiki-ing her (which we can all acknowledge is a sound source of valid information) and seeing her live, I want to hear more.  I want to listen more to what she’s singing about.  Also, she had on a very cool outfit which I wish I could own and wear in every day life - it made an impression.

Special mention also go to Polica and Yeasayer- good.  Good.

Bat For Lashes, “Laura” (2012).

As I count down to Laneway festival, it’s appropriate to be seriously studying up on the artists featuring.  There are so many popping along to our timid shores that I am just realising actually feature in my music library that I so stupidly miss.  Or maybe they were somehow white noise… well they’re no longer in my periphery.  I’m paying attention to them now.  

Bat For Lashes:  A one woman wonder named Natasha Khan.  She’s multi-talented, delicate and so intriguing.  She reminds me vocally of Bjork and her musical sound is eclectic, a mix of gentle piano or surreal synth.  I like her.  I’m easily pleased but she’s easily pleasing.  Ooh, sassy.

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