Wednesday, Jan. 16, 42 A.B.
Scribbled Words In The Key Of Gesundheit
I've just realized that it's been quite a while since I've inflicted my music opinions on anyone.
Consider this entry a hasty attempt to make up for that before everyone has completely lost all the antibodies they developed in response to my virulent last set.
Ahhh, where to begin? I suppose I could talk about music I'm familiar with but (as even the most casual reader must know by now) I much prefer to talk about things I'm utterly ignorant about. After all, ignorance allows me to hold a far greater range of opinions than is the case after knowledge has entered my head. AND it goes much better with the clothes I wear!
Perhaps the area of music I'm most ignorant about is new music, so allow me to concentrate on that.
I like a lot of it. I dislike most of the rest of it. But if anyone wants to believe that I dislike a lot of it and like most of the rest of it instead, I'm not about to argue with them.
Hmmmm... It seems that the thought of others disagreeing with my opinions here has suddenly generated within me a certain curiosity about what those opinions might actually be in a bit more detail than this.
In an attempt to catch a glimpse of those opinions, I've decided to listen to a few examples of new music - say, three examples of precisely 6 minutes each. Why 6 minutes? Because it would be ludicrous to believe that any opinion at all can be formed on the basis of a mere 5-minute sample.
Which brings me to Creed. I've read that their "Weathered" CD has been selling very well. Having now sampled it, I fail to see what the attraction is. Might it be because I'm an old guy unable to understand the musical innovations of the 21st century? Not likely, considering every track reminds me of some generic heavy metal act from the '70s. Well, OK, perhaps that's a tad unfair. It might be better to say that only the first track reminds me of some generic heavy metal act from the '70s. All the other tracks merely remind me of the one immediately preceding it. Ho hum. I suppose that might be ok if the preceding track interested me in the least but... well, since I simply don't care enough to formulate my own opinion any further, I'll just steal what someone else said at the Barnes & Noble site "Weathered" is offered for sale at:
Creed simply works very earnestly within a tradition without ever expanding it, without ever adding humor or even cracking a smile.
Which so exactly matches the review I wrote of the first CD released by my vacuum cleaner, I just might sue the author of these words for plagiarism.
Next up: Nickelback's "Silver Side Up." Better melodies, more variety - and they're Canadian, so even if they actually suck there's no chance of them embarrassing me as an American. I'm still not tempted to buy their CD, but at least I can see why someone else might be.
Lastly, No Doubt's "Rock Steady." I first saw the cover art (actually graffiti) completely covering a woman's purse when I was out shopping one day - a rather unique experience which gave me some hope that the CD itself wasn't a complete bust. Miracle of miracles, I ended up enjoying what I'll casually define as an intriguing mixture of electronica, hip-hop, and Gwen Stefani. I had no idea what a Gwen Stefani was before a Yahoo search lead me here. Now that I've been there, I'm not likely to forget (and not only because it's refreshing to discover a 32-year-old woman who knows how to put the color blue to good use).
There. That concludes this brief "booster shot" exposure to my severely uninformed musical opinions. Your immunity to all my opinions ought to be soaring as a result, and I've successfully rid myself of another 10 minutes of unwanted consciousness by typing, so let's call it a genuine win-win situation and be done with it.
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(©To The Beat Of An Unbalanced Washer by DJ Birtcher)
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Ugh.
Seems as soon as I finished typing the above I was left face-to-face with yet another 10 minutes of unwanted consciousness.
The following is being typed merely in hopes of getting rid of it - that's all. Any resemblance to a point or a purpose above and beyond this is purely coincidental.
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Like many under-educated children of the 20th century, I first became aware of the work of German composer Karlheinz Stockhausen because of this.
I was reminded of his continued existence last year when he allegedly termed the attack on the World Trade Center a work of art. That's not quite what he said - which means if anyone on earth thinks Mohamed Atta was a misunderstood Christo wannabe who skipped his Ritalin one too many days, I have no idea who they might be.
Anyway, in the course of researching a portion of yesterday's entry which I ended up not writing, I revisited the official Stockhausen site and learned a bit about one of his latest works.
It's called Helikopter Quartet.
See?
It was produced by putting four wired musicians (the Arditti Quartet) in helicopters and having them interact with each other while flying over the heads of a wired audience.
The bulk of the music is made up of rich, aggressive tremolos played by the strings, in counterpoint with the helicopters' rhythmically pulsing rotor blades. The musicians are also asked to make vocal contributions from time to time, mostly counting aloud in German, and one of the players clearly relishes fiendishly rolling the "r" in "drei." Despite Stockhausen's extreme experimentation, the quartet is a satisfying experience, playing out a literal arch form from takeoff to landing and occupying a distinctive, consistent world of sound throughout its flight.
That's a Barnes & Noble reviewer again, since I've never heard or seen this work myself; but even unseen and unheard it remains one of the neatest musical ideas I've encountered since Blue Man Group were Blue Boys. I still prefer my own unproduced "Concerto For 32 Caskets" above all else, of course, but that might merely be because I'm irrationally attracted to the idea of having trained members of a symphony orchestra reduced to lying prostrate in various styles of coffins and banging the lids open and shut in the precise sequence and way they are told to via wireless mikes and headsets.
wireless mikes and headsets.
wireless mikes and headsets.
wireless mikes and headsets.
wireless mikes and headsets.
wireless mikes and headsets.ACK! Don't you just hate it when your entry needle gets stuck in a particularly irksome blather groove?!
particularly irksome blather groove?!
particularly irksome blather groove?!
particularly irksome blather groove?!
particularly irksome blather groove?!
particularly irksome blather groove?!
particularly irksome blather groove?!
particularly irksome blather groove?!
particularly irksome blather groove?!*SWWERP!*
