Red Balloon, Sandra McCracken

This past week and a half or so, I've been listening again to an album by Sandra McCracken, Derek Webb's wife. Her latest, entitled Red Balloon, is my favorite of her seven albums, and the best in my opinion (which I recently relayed to her, although sadly I didn't get a response).

In order to make some of the comments I'd like to make about this CD, I have to go back a bit and mention a few things about her last few albums. (If you'd like to follow along you can see her discography here.) She's always had a folk/acoustic/singer-songwriter sound, with some country flavoring, and apart from her third release (Best Laid Plans) her music has always fallen on the underproduced side, opting for real-life simplicity and grit instead of slick production. However, following Derek Webb who used the technique beginning with his album Mockingbird in 2005, on her next few albums (The Builder and the Architect and Gravity | Love, as well as Ampersand EP with Webb) she adopted what I tend to think of as a "tired" sound. Most of the instruments and vocals on those albums were recorded in her home as opposed to a studio, and so have a very unproduced, almost grainy sound to them. (This sound, though, is intentional, it's not due to a lack of quality recording or production.) The songs were generally slow or mid tempo, without too much energy or quick movement. The main aspect of the "tired" sound, though, was a technique of recording the main vocal track twice, that is, singing and recording it once, and then singing and recording it a second time without changing the first one. The slight differences in intonation, different timings for final consonants (e.g. the "t" sound at the end of a word being heard twice, one a little after the other), and lack of polishing on the vocal production leads to a sound that is very original (in my experience). It's almost like an in-tune, good-song version of the "Juno sound", in a way. But it's still not a sound that I particularly enjoy, or at least it's not one that I could listen to all the time.

Which is why I love Red Balloon, which was released last September and produced by McCracken, Webb, and often-collaborator Cason Cooley (whom I recently wrote about on TLB). It keeps the best aspects of the "tired" sound--the house-recorded feel, the cool drum sounds, some effective use of the vocal doubling--without the tiresome aspects, like the lack of variation in tempo, the lack of energy and too much use of the doubling. Guitar and piano (both of which Sandra plays) freely trade primary importance, and the drums and percussion sound really good and have some really cool grooves (listen, for example, to the sweet percussion on the sixth track, "On The Outside," and the drums on "Halfway," track seven).

I also enjoy the lyrics quite a bit. Red Balloon was her first solo studio album released after the birth of her first child, and most of the record is about the emotions and experiences that that brought with it. (I especially love the opening lyrics to the second song, "Storehouse": "The first uninterrupted sleep since July / The first waves of wisdom swing like a wrecking ball / A child takes the throne / Displacing us all / In good time, just in time..."). McCracken is not as brilliant a lyricist as Webb, but she's got skills and the lyrics on this album are particularly emotional and evocative.

I only have two problems with this album. The first is that her promotional email touted it as including "ten previously unreleased songs." Technically that's true, but the last song, "The High Countries," was previously released by Caedmon's Call on their album Back Home, and so I didn't get the ten brand-new songs that I was hoping for. Even though it's a different recording, calling it a "previously unreleased song" is a bit of a stretch. And that's really the only song I'm not a big fan of on Red Balloon--I think the Caedmon's version is better. The other problem I had was that it came "in a special two-disk package." The entire album consists of ten songs, of normal song length (between three and five minutes); but it arrived as two CDs, labeled "Side A" and "Side B," each containing five songs. Kind of a cool idea in theory, and listening to the songs there's definitely a coherent feel to each of the halves by themselves; but practically, that's just annoying. The first thing I did when I got the album was to burn all the songs onto a single CD.

But those are my only beefs. This is a great album and I've listened to it a lot without growing tired of it. The songwriting is great (especially when you know the back story about her son being born), the sound is original, and it's inspiring to those of us who are aspiring independent songwriters ourselves.

You can find Red Balloon on iTunes and Amazon, as well as at the Sandra McCracken Official Online Shop. If you'd like a test drive first, you can hear four tracks from the album ("Guardian," "Lock and Key," "On the Outside" and "Big Blue Sky") on Sandra McCracken's Myspace page. You can see video of Sandra and Derek performing "Halfway" and "Lose You" at a recent house show by clicking on the links; and on that same page you can read Sandra's account of the recording of the album.

Red Balloon, Sandra McCracken

Two Bach Deconstructions, Part II: Immortal Bach, Knut Nystedt

The piece that I introduced to our friend last weekend is a favorite of mine. It's a much smaller piece, in length and in scope, than Pärt's Credo, but it's a brilliant concept.

I was first exposed to the music of the Norwegian composer Knut Nystedt (born 1915) at Cal State Fullerton; in the University Singers choir, we sang an a cappella piece of his called Be Not Afraid. After a powerful chordal introduction, the bottom three parts (alto, tenor and bass) settled into an almost pop-music-like "groove," a repeating pattern of chords with a dynamic rhythm, while the sopranos sang the melody over the top of it. I thought that was really cool, so I resolved to research the composer a little more. My choir director gave me another piece of his called O Crux, which is another terrific piece that I should post about sometime. And for Christmas that year, after searching far and wide for it, my mother got me the CD Nystedt: Sacred Choral Music, which includes recordings of both O Crux and the piece at hand: Immortal Bach.

Immortal Bach (1988) is modeled on Bach's chorale "Komm, süsser Tod" ("Come, Sweet Death"), and is a deconstruction of the piece for a cappella choir. The choir begins by singing the chorale through as it was written (or at least harmonized) by Bach--the original version, consisting of three phrases, each of which have a cadence, or a progression leading to a particular chord, at the end. (The piece is in C minor; the first phrase ends on an E-flat major chord [III], the second on a G major chord [V], and the last, of course, on C minor [i].) Then, the choir sings through each of the three phrases again. But this time, each part moves at a different slow pace through the phrase, so that all of the parts move independently of the others. The result is exquisite, as the parts combine in different ways, the dissonances of the piece are extended and new sonorities are created. At the end of each phrase, all the parts come to rest on the final chord (eventually), there is a pause, and the next phrase begins. It's incredibly simple, but incredibly beautiful as well.

I've seen two performances of the piece, both of which included a unique element. The first (by the John Alexander Singers of the Pacific Chorale) was performed in "surround sound," with the 24 singers arranged around the audience. I believe this is how the score dictates that it should be performed (I tried for a long time to find a copy of the score viewable online, because I'd like to see what it looks like, but my efforts were to no avail). It was a pretty cool effect, but I felt like I couldn't hear every part as well as I would have liked to. The second performance (by the Chamber Singers of Cal State Fullerton), directed by the same conductor who introduced me to Nystedt (Dr. Robert Istad), used motions to represent visually what was happening in the music. Each of the phrases had a corresponding motion (raising the arms, etc.) that each member of the choir acted out through the course of the phrase, so that at first all of the motions were done in sync. But in the subsequent phrases, each singer moved through the motion at the same rate they moved through the phrase, so you could see how all of the singers were at a different point in the music; but they all came together to the same position as they came together on the chord at the end of each phrase. It was a clever idea, and I enjoyed that performance a great deal.

It may sound cool when I describe it, but of course you really just have to listen to it. Click on the video below to hear a recording by the group Ensemble 96, conducted by Øystein Fevang. Gorgeous.

Two Bach Deconstructions, Part II: Immortal Bach, Knut Nystedt

"A New Law" and "A King & A Kingdom," Mockingbird, Derek Webb

I'm surprised, upon a quick look back over TLB, that I've never posted about Derek Webb before and I've only mentioned him a few times in passing, since he's one of my favorite songwriters. That makes it ironic, too, I guess, that this first time I post about his music, he won't be the focus. Ah well.

After listening multiple times through The Book of Secrets this past week in my car, I switched it out for Mockingbird, Derek Webb's fourth solo album, since I realized I hadn't listened to anything of his for a while. Each one of his solo albums is in a completely different style than the others, and this one has a stripped-down, simple, house-recorded feel to it (I guess because it is all of those things). In recording the album, the band did very few overdubs (recording multiple times through a song on the same instrument, or a similar one), resulting in simple instrumentation and little reworking or extra production. It's not a sound I could listen to all the time, but I do enjoy it on this album.

What caught my attention this time through, as it has several times before, is the piano playing by Cason Cooley. On Derek Webb's previous album I See Things Upside Down, Cooley mostly played keyboards that did a bunch of crazy things, but on Mockingbird it's almost all straight piano. What I love about his playing is that oftentimes it's very simple, almost too simple, and yet with a few notes he's able to create a memorable riff or accompaniment pattern that fits perfectly with the style of the song. On track two, "A New Law," the piano provides the primary motion of the harmonic accompaniment as well as the main riff of the song--and all Cooley is doing is arpeggiating root position triads in a certain way. For "A King & A Kingdom" (track three), he does the same thing with even fewer notes: he starts by playing a held octave, then a major seventh (moving the bottom note of the octave up a half step), then a few descending notes before returning to the octave. Incredibly simple, yet along with the drums it sets the mood for the whole song. And his playing is in a similar vein all throughout the album. The Romantic composer Johannes Brahms once said, "It is not hard to compose, but what is fabulously hard is to leave the superfluous notes under the table." Cooley is a performer who knows how to leave the superfluous notes behind and make the most of the ones he keeps. I wish I could play so well.

You can listen to "A New Law" and "A King & A Kingdom" courtesy of Last.fm by visiting their respective links and clicking on the black play button in the player on the right side of the page.

"A New Law" and "A King & A Kingdom," Mockingbird, Derek Webb

The Book of Secrets, Loreena McKennitt

Among the smaller of the many benefits of marriage I'm enjoying is access to my wife's music collection. This past week I've been listening to a CD of hers entitled The Book of Secrets, by Canadian songstress Loreena McKennitt. I posted a tweet on my Twitter page about listening to her music on Sunday night, although I misspelled her first name; I classified her style as "traditional Irish music with a New Agish twist." McKennitt's website describes her music as "eclectic Celtic," while her Wikipedia article notes that her music "has generally been classified as World / Celtic music even though it contains aspects and characteristics of music from around the globe and is sometimes classified as Folk music in record stores."

I've enjoyed the CD a great deal this week. The Celtic influence is certainly the strongest, yielding such things as traditional Irish instruments like the fiddle, pennywhistle and ethnic percussion, and songs that are often in natural minor (e.g. D natural minor: D, E, F, G, A, B-flat, C-natural, D). There is also Middle Eastern influence in some of the rhythms and other stringed instruments. But she also uses synths and atmospherics to lend her music a timeless, mystical feel. There are plenty of people who create hacked Celtic music nowadays, but McKennitt stands above the fray with a high-quality and eminently listenable product. I've noticed that a lot of the music on The Book of Secrets is pretty repetitious--a progression and melody line will often repeat four times without any variation--but that also adds somewhat to the mystical quality of the music.

Apparently, McKennitt is self-managed, self-produced, and the head of her own record label (called Quinlan Road) which has released all twelve of her albums (The Book of Secrets falls right in the middle of her discography, released in 1997). She's written original music for several Shakespeare productions in Canada, as well as contributing songs to Hollywood feature films (Highlander III and The Santa Clause) and TV soundtracks (TNT's miniseries The Mists Of Avalon, Due South, and Northern Exposure). A pretty impressive CV.

Eleanor has several other McKennitt CDs in her collection, besides The Book of Secrets. I have a feeling I'll be checking them out soon.

The Book of Secrets, Loreena McKennitt

"Haydn Go Seek"

I was reminded again by this article a few days ago that the bicentennial of Franz Josef Haydn's death is coming up this May--he died May 31st, 1809. (The article, written by Fred Sanders, appeared on Scriptorium Daily, the blog of Biola University's Torrey Honors Institute.) The best line from the article: "Start listening now so you’ll be ready for the big Haydn go seek party." Sanders mentions that Haydn's oratorio The Creation was the first piece of music to be studied as a text in the Torrey program and goes on to describe how the students study and analyze it. (My younger brother is a current Torrey student; I wonder if he's gotten to that point of the curriculum yet?)

The article got me thinking about how little of Haydn's music I know. Much of his work falls into the movement of Classical composition known as "Böoring" to modern listeners; but I decided that as a composer myself, I should at least make the acquaintance of some of his greater pieces.

So I shall set myself this goal: listen to three major Haydn works, at least twice apiece, during the month of April. One of them will be The Creation, since I was so inspired by Sanders' article. Now I set you, my loyal readers, this goal: suggest for me what the other two works should be--and/or recommend recordings of those or of The Creation that you particularly enjoy. I know that many of my readers may not have a lot of experience in Haydn's music; but maybe you can do some research on your own! So, dear readers, bring on your suggestions, and I'll write about 'em here in a later post!

"Haydn Go Seek"

"Life In Technicolor," Viva La Vida, Coldplay

In my car this past week I've been listening again to Viva La Vida, and it never fails to be awesome. I've been impressed recently with "Life In Technicolor," the first track. It's instrumental, so there are no lyrics and only a brief appearance by the vocals. But it's an example of perfectly crafted "unfolding" (a term, I believe, used by John Cage in some of his lectures--a professor at CSUF introduced me to the concept). I've written before that musical form is the balance of repetition and contrast, and "Life In Technicolor" is an excellent example.

After the initial fade-in of the electronics and a few times through their progression, a hammered dulcimer begins the main riff of the song by itself. Then the song continually builds, gradually adding instruments and slowly morphing the chord progressions, all the while having way too much fun. The balance of continuity and repetition with new, evolving, unfolding material is pitch-perfect--which is hard to achieve in a pop song. Since most pop songs have simple progressions and standard instrumentation, an instrumental pop song without vocals can get boring very quickly. But even though "Life In Technicolor" still uses only standard pop chords (I, IV, V and vi, for those keeping score at home), it mixes up the instrumentation a little and manages to sustain interest by keeping that perfect balance. It builds to an exciting climax and then quickly falls and blends seamlessly into the next track, "Cemeteries Of London" (which I just now realize is incorrectly labeled "Cemeteries In London" in the title of the linked post... darn it).

You can listen to "Life In Technicolor" here, courtesy of Last.fm: click on the black play button in the player on the right side of the page.

"Life In Technicolor," Viva La Vida, Coldplay

Noël, Josh Groban: Revisited

First of all, I must apologize (again) for my inconsistent posting of late. I've been quite busy over the past 5 days, but I would hate for you, my loyal readers, to feel neglected. So I will endeavor to do a better job in the coming weeks!

My last post, about Josh Groban's Christmas CD Noël, garnered five comments (with none from me)--the greatest number of comments I've ever gotten from readers, apart from the discussion generated by my first post on comprehensive listening. So, rather than replying to each of the five comments, I thought I'd write a dedicated post for that purpose.

Before I begin, let me say that perhaps I was a bit hasty and a bit harsh in my original judgment of the CD. I still stand by my principle that there's not much that's original or interesting in the arrangements, apart from "Little Drummer Boy," although I've since gained a greater appreciation for "What Child Is This?" as well--it has a very appropriate quality of mystery and wonder about it that sets it apart from most of the other tracks. But upon further listening, I admit that the CD is not quite as cheesy as I made it out to be--sentimental, yes, but not (too) cheesy. And, as my lovely fiancée and at least one of my commenters pointed out, sentimentality is part of the whole point of Christmas music, so it can be forgiven perhaps more readily than in other genres.

So much for my preamble. On to the comments! The first one was from an anonymous poster:

The boy soprano on the "Little Drummer Boy" track is actually a girl! More specifically, David Foster's daughter!

An honest mistake on my part, and one that I feel pretty foolish about. But, especially considering the boys' choirs on a few other songs, I hope it's a forgivable one--and come on, didn't anyone else think it was a boy, without looking at the liner notes? N.B. David Foster is the musician who arranged and played piano on many of the tracks on the CD.

Another anonymous comment:

I always think it's interesting that Josh's voice still is trying to be forced into the classical category, when that's not what he considers himself. While classicaly trained - which continues to this day - his love of music leads him in many directions....

The Christmas album was done at the urging of his fans who've wanted one for a few years now. It was fast - but turned out to be brutal to other artists in the record industry proving that Josh's talent is not to be laughed at.

There are too many facets to this young man to hold him down to one genre, thank goodness. And still, he's in his own lane.

It's an interesting comment on our country's musical culture to note that people try to force Groban's voice into the classical category--perhaps we think that someone with such a great voice could not, would not or should not be performing in any other! His classical training is certainly evident in his singing, and I'm glad to hear that it continues. As I said in the last post, I would really like to hear him sing some great classical music, but at the same time whatever genre he doesn't sing is another genre's gain. It would be great to see him on a Broadway stage, assuming he can act as well. I'm not surprised that the album was done to placate his fans (it seems few popular artists escape a Christmas album these days), but I am glad it turned out better than most. I will check out the albums and YouTube video this commenter suggested (would you care to reveal your identity for this post, loyal reader?). And I agree that Groban is in his own lane.

The third comment was from Ryan Fleming, whom I can always count on for good insights:

I can see how a musician with a college degree in composition can find the arangement of most of Josh's songs unoriginal or even cheesy; but while it may be unoriginal it still sounds good (in my opinion). I especially love the "inspirational" whole step key changes that you mentioned, especially when there is a break in the music right before hand. And I always find those sappy strings to be such a beautiful addition to any classical/pop music. I think these type of musical additions may be overused, but this is so because of the great impact it can have on a song. I do believe that they add a lot of power and feeling to a song.

As I am fond of saying, clichés are clichés for a reason--it's because they're so often true, or, in this case, because they so often work. As Fleming points out, these are all effective musical devices. However, these effective devices have become clichés precisely because they are overused. They do work, but they've been done so often that they lose some of their power and effectiveness. When I correctly sang along with the key change in "Little Drummer Boy," it induced laughter rather than affected emotion because it was so predictable. I agree that they're all legitimate musically, and that they sound all right; but with such a talent as Groban's, I would have liked to see some more original arrangements--that is, arrangements that utilized skillful creativity, rather than resorting to hackneyed stuff that everybody does.

Darth_Harbison was the next reader to comment:

I don't have enough musical knowledge to take issue with most of what you said, but I feel the need to jump to Groban's defense because (while I don't personally own any of his CDs) I greatly enjoy his music. I shall therefore refrain from taking issue with any of the musical issues and focus on the Christmas CD . . .

You criticize it as being "unoriginal" in "the most overdone genre of music in contemporary history." This may be true, but I think that part of the charm of Christmas music is that it's always pretty much the same. I love it as much as the next person when someone does something really new and creative without really changing anything (ala Mannheim Steamroller or Trans-Siberian Orchestra), but I think a lot of traditional Christmas music could be ruined in the name of "originality." Of course, this might just be me, since as you know I'm big on tradition.

You also criticized it for sappy sentimentalism . . . And while generally I agree that it's not a good thing (although I like "You Raise Me Up" a fair amount), I think that, again, it can be forgiven in Christmas music--in fact, I think it's part of the point. There are, of course, some Christmas songs with enough actual depth that sappy sentimentalism seems almost irreverent (e.g. Joy to the World, perhaps the most brutalized-by-overuse song of all time), but I don't think that indulging ourselves in enjoying sappy sentimentalism at Christmas is necessarily be a bad thing. The way I see it, as long as we keep in mind (for lack of a less cheesy phrase) the true meaning of Christmas, there's really no harm in enjoying it as a secular holiday, as well.

And I'm happy that you think Little Drummer Boy is so good, because this CD basically made it one of my favorite Christmas songs.

My response here is basically the same as my response above--too much of a pretty good thing is not as good as just enough of a really good thing. (If that makes any sense...) I do agree that Christmas music can be ruined by originality. A case in point (at least for me) is the movement in recent years of arranging hymns, including Christmas hymns, in a light-jazz style with lots of unusual extended chords (seventh chords, ninth chords, eleventh chords, etc.)--which "O Come All Ye Faithful" on Noël falls into in places. That's just annoying to me, and just because it's original doesn't make it good. However, I'm not advocating radical departures from tradition here. "Little Drummer Boy" is original and creative without departing at all from the essence of the song. It's just enough originality to spice up the song and set it apart from less worthy arrangements, while not going too far. Originality in moderation. And, as I said above, I suppose my view on its sentimentality is more lenient than in my original post.

And the final comment comes from a self-so-called lurker, Roberta:

OK. I feel the need to comment here even though I just usually just lurk.
I agree with both Darth and Ryan's comments. Believe it or not, I own the CD. It was the third Christmas album I listened to this year, after Chanticleer and The Cambridge singers. I have to tell you that the reason I bought it is "The Voice." I think sentimental can be overdone but this album has just the right amount that we expect from a Christmas recording. There are many others that are so sentimental they make me cry - and I don't mean that in a good way! I have to admit, I always skip the track Josh sings with Faith Hill. That is simply painful for me to listen to. His voice, singing familiar songs makes this a must for my Christmas listening.

Again the sentimentality comes up--and again, I agree that Noël does strike a pretty good balance, upon further reflection. A CD like one by Mannheim Steamroller, as Darth mentioned above, perhaps avoids sentimentality altogether because its ideas are so different and fresh; and CDs that are nothing but sentimentality are so numerous that they need no example. But the present CD in question seems to fall comfortably (with its listeners and with itself) in the middle. And again, as Roberta points out, Groban's voice is really the primary reason to listen to this CD. The arrangements may not be the best, the guest vocalists may be subpar, but ultimately the CD is carried by Groban's talent. And that's enough reason for one listen, at the very least.

So there you have it! Feel free to comment again if you'd like to respond to my responses--and I'd love for the anonymous commenters to reveal their identities, if they so choose. And keep the large numbers of comments a-comin'!

Noël, Josh Groban: Revisited

Noël, Josh Groban

My lovely fiancée's landlady graciously got me a Christmas gift last week, which Eleanor gave to me in her stead. Apparently not knowing too much about my tastes in music, she had purchased Josh Groban's Christmas album Noël. But, I cheerfully accepted the gift and thought I'd give it a listen to give myself a broader understanding of Groban's music.

I've certainly heard Groban sing before, and I have to say that he has, hands down, one of the best voices I've ever heard. I don't know much (anything, really) about his history or training, but his voice is exquisite and perfectly balanced, equally at home in soft, crooning lows or powerful highs. His vibrato in particular is nicely controlled and understated, and never overwhelms his tone or pitch, which is one of my primary complaints about opera and similar styles of music. He is 27 as of this writing, which means that his voice has pretty much fully settled (it happens in men around 25) and is only going to mature from this point on. I'm not sure what his future aspirations are (although his Wikipedia page suggests he's interested in pursuing musical theatre), but he certainly has the foundation to become a truly great singer.

That being said, however, I haven't been a big fan of his music up to this point. His most popular song, a cover of "You Raise Me Up," is a pretty sappy song with little real content (perhaps the "Wind Beneath My Wings" of this generation). And the arrangements that he sings tend to be cast from the same mold: cheesy, overly sentimental, scored with sappy strings and plenty of dramatic cymbal rolls and "inspirational" key changes up a whole step.

Noël, mostly, is the same. Of the 13 tracks on the album, ten are Christmas carols or traditional "religious"-type songs and three are secular Christmas songs ("I'll Be Home For Christmas," "The Christmas Song" [that's the "chestnuts roasting on an open fire" one] and "Thankful"). Sentimentality and sappiness are present in large doses, and hardly any of the arrangements present original or even really interesting takes on perhaps the most overdone genre of songs in contemporary history.

The only thing that makes the CD worth listening to, in most cases, is Groban's voice. I should clarify that I don't say that because the arrangements are bad music per se; it's just that (as I said) in such an overdone genre, an arrangement with nothing original or interesting to offer is not really worth one's time. But Groban's voice makes even the sappiest arrangement tolerable, at the least. It seems like a pretty poor choice (although an inevitable one) to pair him with other singers, as on "Angels We Have Heard On High" and "The First Noel," because he shows them up so clearly. The latter, which is a duet with Faith Hill, displays this even more so than the former: Faith Hill is by no means a bad singer, but her vocal idioms and constant embellishment seem vulgar next to Groban's clear and modest style.

There are a few exceptions to the CD's rule, however--interesting moments here and there that are worth a listen. The boys' choir that appears on "Silent Night" and "Ave Maria" is excellent and adds a nice shimmering touch. I appreciate the inclusion of two songs in Latin ("Ave Maria" and "Panis Angelicus") and one in French ("Petit Papa Noël"). And there is one song that clearly stands out from the rest in originality and quality.

"Little Drummer Boy" is far and away the best cut on the record, and the most original in its arrangement. The CD mentions that it features guitarist Andy McKee, and it's his guitar work that makes the track stand out. I also enjoy the boy soprano on the second verse who sings an echo to Groban's melody, although I wish he was utilized more--it would have been nice to hear him singing simultaneous harmony as well, or hear his role develop through the song rather than just use him on the one verse. There is also a predictable key change in the middle of the song, which I actually anticipated and correctly sang along with the first time I heard it. But other than those two minor nitpicks, it's a very good version of a good song.

Overall? Noël is maybe worth a listen or two if you don't yet have an appreciation for Josh Groban's voice. Christmas music as a genre has very positive connotations for me, as my mother would start to cycle through her various Christmas CDs after Thanksgiving to herald the Advent season. My first time listening through Noël made me happy because it was the first Christmas CD I'd listened to this year, and it did the trick of getting me in the "holiday spirit." "Little Drummer Boy" is a track worth listening to, on its own. And as for Groban? I personally wish that I could hear him tackle some really great music--I'd like to know how he'd handle, say, a Handel aria or a Schubert art song. None of the music on this CD is difficult to sing, by any means, and it makes me wonder if his voice is really versatile or if he just sings this type of music really well. We shall see. But for now, a couple of tracks from Noël will make it into my own Christmas rotation. Let me know if any make it into yours!

Noël, Josh Groban

Two Flute Solos For Your Listening Pleasure

In my car for the past two days I've been listening to the album The Ultimate Collection by Michael Card--a greatest hits CD by a Christian musician who's been making music for a really long time. I remember listening to his music growing up, and based on my memories I'm not at all sure that the songs on this CD are really his greatest hits; I remember many better ones, and I even remember better versions of the songs that are on the CD. But I digress. What struck me this past time listening through the CD (it's actually a 2 CD set) were a pair of flute solos on two different songs, and I wanted to share them with you, my loyal readers. Flutes are seldom utilized in popular music, and even seldomer (is that a word?) are they given solos; but these two solos are excellent ones, and it's kind of refreshing to hear.

The first can be found (courtesy of Last.fm) here (click the black play button in the player on the right), in the song "Lift Up The Suffering Symbol." Again, this is not Card's best work, lyrically or musically; but it's a decent song, at least, and the solo is cool. Since the player has a time counter, I'll mention that the solo starts at 2:24; but you can't fast forward, so you'll have to listen to the whole song anyway. Also listen to the brass swells, in clusters of notes--eerily reminiscent of the score to The Matrix.

The second solo, which is even better than the first, can be found here on iLike--click on the first play button in the list. Listen especially for the clarity of the quick repeated notes; every note is clear, distinct from the others around it. Excellent playing. There's no timer on iLike, so you'll just have to listen for the solo yourself. I like in this song how the strings imitate the flute at the very end of the solo--a high trill and then a downward arpeggio by the flute, echoed just afterwards by the strings. Continue to listen to the flute through the rest of the song; it reuses some of the material from the solo to add color as an accompanying instrument.

I hope you find these flute solos as entertaining as I did. Enjoy!

Two Flute Solos For Your Listening Pleasure

"Cemeteries In London," Viva La Vida, Coldplay

It took me a little longer than the other ones, but the final song I fell in love with on Viva La Vida was "Cemeteries Of London," which is track two. The other songs on the CD, the ones I haven't written about this week--"Life In Technicolor," "42," "Lovers In Japan / Reign of Love," "Yes," and "Strawberry Swing"--are all good songs and of course contribute to making the CD great; but the five I've written about this week are the ones that really stood out to me.

"Cemeteries Of London" is the first vocal track on the CD, since there are no words to "Life In Technicolor," and it's a really interesting song. As I said, it took me longer to understand than the others did, but once I got the feeling for the song it jumped into the ranks of my favorites on the CD. And this is what I think: It's Coldplay's 21st century rock-band version of a ballad of the Wild West.

You know the type of song I'm talking about. Something like the song here, although I have to admit that the first thing I thought of was this video clip (from this movie). It's a good example, although almost a parody, of the style I'm talking about; but if you do watch the video, skip to the 50 second mark to experience as little pain watching it as possible.

But this is the type of song that "Cemeteries Of London" is. The lyrics, first of all, point to it; they're kind of eerie and very evocative, conjuring the same type of mood as a ballad, and the chorus sounds just like one of them: "Singing la la la la la la la lay / And the night over London lay...." The chord progression and melody are very suggestive of a Western ballad too--particularly in the first two chords of the progression, minor i to major III (e.g., in the key of E minor those two chords would be E minor and G major).

I like the instrumentation of the song. The soft swirling piano figures in the first verse do a good job of setting the scene, evoking perhaps the London fog, and the guitars that take over in the second verse hearken more traditionally back to the ballad style. You can also hear hand claps enter the picture halfway through the second chorus that continue through the guitar solo. The solo itself is very interesting; apart from the first note and the return to that note upon the repeat, each note that the solo pauses on is dissonant with the concurrent chord. It sounds really cool. The second half of the solo (a repeated four-note idea) is reminiscent of a U2 solo, to my mind. The soft piano comes back at the very end of the song, playing two phrases. I didn't like this at first, because it didn't make sense musically; it seemed out of place and just tacked on to the end. But I grew to really like the phrases themselves, so I really enjoy it now. Perhaps it's another example of a cyclical song, bringing the song full circle, as I wrote concerning the whole album in my post about "Death And All His Friends".

There's one more point about this song that I wanted to mention, related to a point I brought up in my last post about setting up expectations and then either fulfilling or frustrating them. The chorus of this song is another good example of this principle. It's only two lines, which is short for a chorus (it's really more like a refrain, I guess), and you expect it to be repeated, either with the same lyrics or different ones. But each time it's kept to just the two lines--except for the last time, when it is repeated and the lyrics to the second line are slightly changed, fulfilling the expectations you've had all along. Another good example of the excellent songwriting.

You can listen to the song here, courtesy of Last.fm: click on the black play button in the player on the right side of the page.

And that will conclude our week of Viva La Vida posts! I hope you enjoyed them. And, while we're talking about the week--I want to hear from you, my loyal readers. Do you like these weeklong series on a single topic or album? Do you prefer the individual posts I do the rest of the time? Would you like to see more series? Fewer? Leave a comment and let me know what you want to see--and as always, thanks for listening!

"Cemeteries In London," Viva La Vida, Coldplay

"Violet Hill," Viva La Vida, Coldplay

About the same time I fell in love with "Viva La Vida," I also came to particularly enjoy "Violet Hill," which is the track immediately following it (track eight). "Violet Hill" was the first single off the album, and also represents a departure from Coldplay's past style into the brave new world of Viva La Vida. Again, I will make a quick mention of the lyrics, but say nothing besides "they're really awesome."

"Violet Hill" begins with 35 seconds of swirling atmospherics, again Brian Eno's ambient/electronic influence. At the 35-second mark, the voice enters, accompanied by a quarter-note-pounding piano in C-sharp minor. The rest of the band comes in a few lines later, with a similar pounding pulse feeling. The fun thing about this song is that based on the general feel of the music and the piano and melody, you might expect it to be a mellow piano ballad; but instead it's a hard-hitting rock song that (again) I rock out to in the car all the time.

The quarter-note pulse pervades the song, particularly in the "interludes" after the refrain line "If you love me won't you let me know?," which consist of eight identical quarter hits--two measures--with nothing in between, just 1! 2! 3! 4! 5! 6! 7! 8! An excellent use of musical space, and a great use of musical energy as well.

The song ends with a quiet coda, the voice accompanied only by a soft, tender piano. (The lyrics to this coda are very good, as well--I love the rhyme of "Violet Hill" with "silent still.") There is a chord progression detail here which perfectly indicates a musical principle I learned in college, though unfortunately I'm unable to attribute it to its source because I can't recall its source. The principle is that when writing music, you set up expectations in the listener--based on what happens, the listener expects certain things to happen next. Then, you balance fulfilling those expectations with thwarting the expectations by doing something else. The refrain line mentioned above concludes, in all parts of the song except the coda, with the following progression: C-sharp minor - B major - C-sharp minor (which in the piece is i - VII - i*). Because of the way the rhythm and the melody frame this progression, it sets up the expectation of a deceptive cadence, following the progression C-sharp minor - B major - A major (the VI chord). But the song frustrates this expectation by resolving instead right back up to the C-sharp minor chord. This happens three times (it's right before the "interludes" mentioned above; the second C-sharp minor chord is the one hammered on eight times). However, in the coda, with only the piano accompanying the voice, the expectation is finally met: the B chord resolves down to the A major, setting up a "tagged" repetition of the last line, ending on the C-sharp minor. I'm sorry if that was a bit technical--I think if you listen to the song, you'll understand what I'm talking about.

Again, this song leaves me wanting more, since minus the 35-second introduction it's really only three minutes long. But oh, what a rocking three minutes.

You can listen to the song here, courtesy of Last.fm: click on the black play button in the player on the right side of the page.

* If there are any classically trained musicians who read this blog, they may object that the major flat seven chord doesn't really exist in a minor key. But if we're being honest, it's used in pop music all the time, and it really does function as a VII, not as a V/III. Sometimes you just have to accept the way things really are, and not as they appear in music textbooks. (And sometimes you have to hope that at least one reader--just one!--actually knows what the heck you're talking about.)

"Violet Hill," Viva La Vida, Coldplay

"Viva La Vida," Viva La Vida, Coldplay

The title track on Viva La Vida, i.e. "Viva La Vida" (track seven), was the next song on the CD to attract my attention. In many ways, it's a very appropriate title track in that it epitomizes many of the themes of the album. It's energetic, it deals with revolution and it has many nuances and details that lift it from being a good song to being a great song. The lyrics--the meaning of which is hotly contested on sites like www.songmeanings.net--seem to deal with the deposition of a king: "I used to rule the world / Seas would rise when I gave the word / Now in the morning I sleep alone / Sweep the streets I used to own...." There are multiple layers of meaning to be found in the song; it seems like it could equally be a description of a historical event (many people think it's the beheading of Louis XVI), or a whole-song extended metaphor for something else, perhaps losing someone. In either case, the lyrics are very well written and the music is an excellent support for them.

In "Lost!", as I wrote about, the harmonic base--that is, the instrument primarily responsible for filling out the harmony--was a pipe organ; in "Viva La Vida," it's the string section. The song opens with an energetic and syncopated chord progression by the strings, and they play an indispensible role throughout the song. Underneath the strings, the bass drum beats out steady quarter notes, also throughout the song, which drives the rhythm forward even more. Interestingly enough, for all the rhythmic drive, there is no drum beat anywhere to be found--only the steady kick drum. The rhythms of the strings, voice and other instruments here and there are enough to fully carry the song and give it more energy than you would expect.

There are several musical details in the song that took me a while to notice. Listen carefully during the chorus, on beats two and four, and you'll hear a bell or a chime playing way in the background, in the musical space typically occupied by the snare drum. It's a nice subtle touch that enhances the song's revolutionary feel--perhaps evoking bells being rung to celebrate liberation, for instance.

It's also interesting to listen to the higher strings--in the range from middle C to an octave higher (if you know where that is). They undergo several variations and are arranged very nicely. Immediately following the first verse ("...streets I used to own"), they play two alternating notes about two and a half octaves above middle C, A-flat G A-flat G, which form the basic motive for that group of strings. During the first half of the second verse ("I used to roll the dice...."), they play a cool countermelody that is the only musical element besides the syncopated rhythm and the voice. During the second half of the second verse ("One minute I held the key...."), they invert the two alternating notes and instead of alternating down, alternate up: A-flat B-flat A-flat B-flat, before returning to the countermelody for the last two lines. The chorus uses them mainly in whole notes to fill out the harmony. In the third verse ("It was a wicked and wild wind...."), they alternate down again, but in the middle range: A-flat G A-flat G, in a syncopated rhythm of their own, more energetic than the rhythm of the A-flat B-flat idea. And in the second half of that verse ("Revolutionaries wait...."), they return to whole notes, their rhythmic space taken up by a honky-tonkish piano (also kept in the background). This is a sign of good arranging: they don't play the same thing each time but actually develop a musical motive. Really good stuff.

I have to make mention of the ending: the song fades out on a weird-sounding choir singing the chords of the original string progression (without the syncopation). This is my least-favorite part of the song; I feel like they could have at least layered Chris Martin's voice rather than using synth voices. But it's not bad enough to ruin the rest of the song, and if this is the only thing wrong with it, it's a song that's a heck of a lot better than most.

You can listen to the song here, courtesy of Last.fm: click on the black play button in the player on the right side of the page.

"Viva La Vida," Viva La Vida, Coldplay

"Death And All His Friends," Viva La Vida, Coldplay

Shortly after falling in love with "Lost!", "Death And All His Friends," the final track on Viva La Vida, caught my ear (so to speak). It's really two songs, "Death And All His Friends" and "The Escapist"; the latter is a reprise of sorts of the electronic-music stylings of the first song ("Life In Technicolor") with some added lyrics, bringing the CD full circle. I always enjoy pieces that are cyclical in that way, because it provides a very satisfying sense of internal coherency. For those interested, my favorite example (and one of the very best) is in Morten Lauridsen's art music work Mid-Winter Songs, where the very striking theme from the first movement returns in the middle of the fifth and final movement. I wrote a paper on this piece in college, and I'm sure I'll eventually get around to writing about it here. In the meantime, suffice it to say that I appreciate Coldplay's decision to bring the end of their CD back to the beginning. But my main focus will be on the first song.

"Death And All His Friends" is itself almost two songs, or at least a song in two very distinct parts. The first part is very simple, just soft piano, voice and a sparse electric guitar, telling a very brief story of a relationship that was entered into too quickly but reassuring that it's all gonna be alright. I have to mention that I love the sound of the piano here: it has a very dark and mellow (as opposed to a bright) tone, which is not only the way I like all pianos to sound but very appropriate to the song's character.

Suddenly at the 1:18 mark, the song changes: it immediately falls into a faster tempo, a (slightly) brighter piano and guitar take over, and the energy begins to build very quickly. It has the feeling of excitement swelling up and about to burst. And at 1:48 the burst comes. You can imagine the musicians headbanging and rocking out like nothing else on the hammered chords--this is another part of the CD that I can't help moving to even when I'm driving. (I've always had a very physical, visceral response to music, but as far as popular music goes this CD takes the cake, and even the cookies and punch too.) It then "settles," while still being very energetic, into a standard 4/4 groove, before hammering the same chord progression again. But this time, the progression adds an extra beat to accommodate two sudden solo guitar notes, and transitions seamlessly to an atypical but rocking 7/4 rhythm, with the solo guitar soaring over it all. It's a climax so huge as to be almost transcendent. After one time through the 7/4 phrase, the whole band together sings twice, almost as a chant: "No I don't want to battle from beginning to end / I don't want a cycle of recycled revenge / I don't want to follow death and all of his friends...." The instruments proceed with a quickly-paced denouement and drop out individually, and the song fades out into silence and then back in with the electronics of "The Escapist." This is another part of the album where it leaves the listener wanting more--I feel like four repetitions of the chant wouldn't be out of place at all--but again, it's made me listen to this song, like, three thousand times. One of the greatest climaxes of any album I've heard.

You can listen to the song here, courtesy of Last.fm: click on the black play button in the player on the right side of the page.

"Death And All His Friends," Viva La Vida, Coldplay

"Lost!", Viva La Vida, Coldplay

The first song on Viva La Vida that I fell in love with--only the second time I listened to the CD, in fact--was "Lost!", track number three.

The first thing that stands out about this track is the beat, a very strong one with powerful bass and tom hits and handclaps for a snare--a beat more reminiscent of electronic music, perhaps, than rock. I forgot to mention in my post yesterday that I rock out in my car to this CD probably more than any other CD I've ever listened to, and this track's beat is one of the reasons for that.

The second thing that stands out is the use of Coldplay's signature pipe organ sound; it forms the harmonic base of the song, playing the progression Em - C - Bm - D. The cool thing about that progression, though, is that the Bm and D chords have a G added to them, so they actually become something like a Bm add6 and a D add4:



The added note is a nice detail that gives extra character to a good progression. I like the light "cluster" aspect it gives the D major chord; it seems reminiscent of something Eric Whitacre might do.

I also really like the melody in the song, particularly in the verses. It's just really catchy, and very singable, and all the lyrics are excellent as well. The melody in the chorus is a good counterpart to the melody of the verses: it's more expansive and leaves more space, and also switches up the harmonic rhythm with the quicker chord changes on the words "tried to cross."

Every element on this CD seems pitch-perfect (no musical pun intended), especially in terms of proportion and balance. The form of this song, for example, is perfectly timed and balanced; it doesn't feel like the chorus is too short, or it goes on too long at the end compared to the length of the rest of the song. The only thing I might even consider complaining about is that the song seems too short because it's so good--give me another verse, or two, or three, I want to hear more! But that becomes typical of much of this album. Restraint, rather than excess, is the guiding principle. And, of course, that leaves listeners like you and me eager to hear it again and again.

You can listen to the song here, courtesy of iLike.com: click on the play button under the heading "Song Clip." You can watch a video of Coldplay performing the song live on that page, as well; be forewarned that the video will start playing on its own once the site loads.

"Lost!", Viva La Vida, Coldplay

Viva La Vida, Coldplay: Revisited

First of all, I must apologize to you, my loyal readers, for not posting for an entire week--I hope I haven't lost any of you in that time. It's been a busy week at work and at home, and I've had little (or no) time to blog. But I'll make it up to you, I promise!

In the past few weeks, with only a very few brief interludes, I've only been listening to one CD in my car:

Viva La Vida, Coldplay

And the more I listen to it, the more I love it. I wrote in my first post about the CD that it hadn't eclipsed Coldplay's album X&Y as my favorite, but that it was still a great album. Now, a month later, I must confess it still hasn't risen to that level; but it has definitely risen above many, many other albums to become one of my all-time favorites. Like I said, I've been listening to it almost continuously in my car for a whole month, and it keeps getting better and better.

Listen to the CD; it's the sound of a really good band becoming a great band. The more I listen to it, the more I discover and the better it gets. I've uncovered multiple layers of nuances in each song, in the lyrics and in the music. I could go on and on. But instead of doing that, I've decided to do a week's worth of posts about the album, focusing on individual songs in the order I fell in love with them. So sit back with a glass of your favorite wine, relax, and enjoy a week of Viva La Vida!

Viva La Vida, Coldplay: Revisited

On the Beauty of Leisure

I recently listened to a podcast on The Scriptorium Daily, the blog of the Torrey Honors Institute at Biola University. The podcast was entitled "An Active Rest", and it dealt with the nature of leisure and how leisure differs from idleness. One of the contributors--I believe it was Fred Sanders--noted that in American culture today, we tend to class activities in only two categories: work, that is, that which is productive, and idleness, that is, doing nothing. But he and his fellow podcasters explained that there is a third category, leisure, which includes activities that are not necessarily productive but are certainly profitable. They talked about things such as reading, or gardening, or visiting Disneyland with one's family as examples of leisure. They're not productive activities because they don't produce something, some sort of tangible product that you can look back on (except perhaps gardening); but they are still profitable, and the professors argued that healthy forms of leisure are good for the soul, and promote the growth of the soul.

I have to say that I agree, and I experienced an excellent example of leisure time tonight. After bidding goodbye to my lovely girlfriend around 6:30 pm, I remained out on the balcony of my apartment for several minutes, simply enjoying the beauty of the evening: fresh air, a few clouds, the greenery of my apartment complex, the glow from the sun that had just set. Upon reentering my apartment, I decided that I needed to continue the experience of beauty, so I put on some music as I made dinner.

Baroque music--classical art music written between 1600 and 1750--is difficult to match in its elegance, clarity and directness, and I felt that such music would be very appropriate to my mood. So I put on a piece called Water Music, by the German composer George Frideric Handel (German, though he spent most of his life in England). A contemporary of Johann Sebastian Bach, Handel spent his composing career primarily in the employ of the state (unlike Bach who was employed primarily by the church), and Water Music was written for king George I. It was composed for a trip down the river Thames on the king's barges (thus the title). As I prepared and ate dinner, the elegant beauty of the piece filled the apartment and I found that it perfectly suited my musical appetite.

My thought after dinner was to listen to a very large piece entitled Turangalîla-Symphonie, by the French composer Olivier Messiaen (1908-1992). It's an orchestral work in ten movements, 78 minutes long, which I had first encountered in a 20th century music class in college. It was accompanied this evening by a glass of Montes Cherub Rosé of Syrah, which I enjoyed quite a bit (I'm usually not a big fan of rosé wines, but this one was rather tasty).

The Turangalîla-Symphonie, though a bit long to listen to all at once without the virtues of a live performance or (perhaps) a lovely girlfriend by your side, is a great piece. It is based around four basic motives, or cyclic themes, which make good "anchors" to listen for throughout. (The Wikipedia article spells out the themes in detail, with music notation for each one.) It's an exuberant, lively and joyful piece, while incorporating mystical and mysterious elements. Parts of it remind me of a movie score from the first half of the 20th century, particularly the fifth and eighth movements, which makes sense because it was written between 1946 and 1948. There's a lot of dissonance in the piece--"color," as Messiaen would call it (I have a quote from him which says, "There aren't any modal composers, tonal composers, or serial composers. There is only music that is coloured and music that isn't")--but it's not too intense, at least for an open-minded listener, and it certainly is dissonance meant to add color rather than dissonance for its own sake. As I said, it's a very long piece, and the first half was more interesting to me than the second; but it's a very good piece, I would love to see it performed live, and it made for a terrific evening.

Now, to wrap these sundry strands together: The time I spent listening to these two pieces tonight was not, in the sense mentioned above, "productive." Yet it wasn't idle, either. (Certainly drinking wine, regardless of what else one may be doing, is no waste of time....) Both pieces, albeit in different ways, enriched my evening with their unique style of beauty, and just sitting and listening to them (even apart from eating dinner or drinking wine) was a worthwhile experience. If, as I wrote about in my post about the Concert for Hope, the mere presence of beauty is transformative, then most of us should probably spend more time just sitting and listening to great music. I know I should, as a composer. And, if one has the benefit of a lovely girlfriend and a glass of good wine as well--so much the better!

(I've added both of the particular CDs I listened to to the Amazon box in the sidebar. You can listen to audio samples on their respective product pages.)

On the Beauty of Leisure

"Thy Mercy," Sandra McCracken

Sandra McCracken wrote the song "Thy Mercy" (or "Thy Mercy My God") as part of a movement to revive old hymn texts and set them to new music for the church. The lyrics were written by John Stocker in 1776, and the music was written by Sandra McCracken in 2001.

I want to focus primarily on the form of the song in this post. To my knowledge, the song has been recorded three times: once by Caedmon's Call on their album In The Company Of Angels in 2001; once by the Indelible Grace project on their album Pilgrim Days: Indelible Grace II, also in 2001; and once by Sandra herself on her terrific album The Builder And The Architect in 2005.

The song is strophic, that is, it consists of four verses with the same music for each and no chorus. Simple enough, right? The question of form that prompted this post, though, has to do with a musical interlude and its placement. In a song with four verses of the same music and no chorus, an interlude seems a wise choice to break up the form and lend some variety. The interesting thing is that these three recorded versions do three different things with the interlude.

The Indelible Grace version places the interlude between verses two and three, so the form goes like this:

Verse 1
Verse 2
Interlude
Verse 3
Verse 4

You can listen to the IG version (sung by Sandra) here; "Thy Mercy" is the first track on the CD, so it should start playing when you load the page. The clip is (I think) two minutes long, so you can hear the first two verses, the interlude, verse three, and part of verse four.

The Caedmon's Call version, which is sung by my favorite songwriter Derek Webb, places the interlude between verses three and four, so the form looks like this:

Verse 1
Verse 2
Verse 3
Interlude
Verse 4

iLike.com, which I've grown to appreciate more and more on this blog, has a video here where you can listen to the whole song (the video is just a still shot of the title and the band's name).

And Sandra's version on The Builder And The Architect, the most musically original of the three, also places the interlude between verses three and four. It develops a vocal idea that was presented in the introduction to the song, and thus is the most musically coherent of the three versions of the interlude. Our good friend Last.fm pulls through for us again, and offers the full track here for your listening pleasure.

If you glance back for a moment at the form charts I listed above, you'll notice that the IG version is symmetrical, whereas the Caedmon's Call and Sandra versions are asymmetrical since the interlude separates three verses from one at the end. Which form is better from a musical standpoint? One could of course argue that both are good in their own ways, and one is not "better" than the other; but I maintain that one is, and for the following reason.

The IG version is not particularly inventive musically, and the "riff" played between the verses is, to be frank, pretty boring. So the general feel of the song becomes static: not much is happening, and we return to the same riff every time between the verses. Thus we have the sequence: riff in the intro, verse one, the riff, verse two, and then an interlude that's slightly different; then verse three, and then the same riff again. The riff between verses three and four kills any hope we might have had for an overarching dynamic form for the song, because instead of moving on to new or different material to drive the momentum of the song forward, we instead return to the exact same pretty boring riff we've heard before, with no variation whatsoever. And therefore the song almost stops dead at this point in terms of form.

Contrast the other two versions--we'll focus on Sandra's. To begin with, the instrumentation and style of this arrangement is much more original than the IG version, so we're more interested from the start. We hear three verses with the same music, although the third verse has a different texture (variations in volume and instrumentation). Then comes the interlude, which is not the same thing we've been hearing in between the verses but is a developed and extended version of it--a good balance of repetition and contrast. That propels the momentum of the song forward. Then there is one last verse, returning to the music of the verses, and then the song ends. This form is much more effective because it doesn't remain static but changes, evolves, through the course of the song, and reflects (in a way) the dramatic topography of the lyrics.

One of the most helpful things I learned in college was that form--in any art but particularly in music--is the balance of repetition and contrast: we need enough repetition to create a coherent song with things we recognize as the song progresses, but enough contrast to create an interesting song that does in fact progress instead of repeating the same material too much. The IG version doesn't seem to understand this principle; but the Caedmon's Call and Sandra versions do.

"Thy Mercy," Sandra McCracken

Music Sale At Amazon.com: Buy 2 Get 1 Free

I promise I won't do this too often, but Amazon emailed me about a music sale they're having that I thought you, my faithful readers, might like to know about.

They're offering a "Buy 2 Get 1 Free" deal on select music CDs, including artists like Tom Petty, Elton John, Rush, Bon Jovi, Cream, and The Who. There's at least one U2 CD in there (a really good one, The Unforgettable Fire), and also some comedy CDs (including Jerry Seinfeld's I'm Telling You For The Last Time). If you click on the fun little graphic below, it will take you straight to the page where you can select your three (or more) from the 150 available. And best of all, I get a commission on anything (music CDs or anything else) you buy on Amazon after clicking through this site! (Click here for more details on my affiliation with Amazon.) The sale lasts until October 2nd.

If you do pick up some CDs from this sale, leave a comment and let me know what you bought!

Music Sale At Amazon.com: Buy 2 Get 1 Free

Interlude: My Recording Technology

Since I'm recording two clapping pieces this week for your listening pleasure (one in the previous post and one yet to come), and since Albert and Ryan Fleming both asked (here) about how I record, we'll take a brief respite from the clapping posts and I'll reveal my "technologies and techniques" of recording.

My "first album" of sorts, Following A Star, was recorded at the end of 2005 using my iBook G4 laptop, which (I think) was new in 2004 and was running Mac OSX 10.4 Tiger at the time. I used the Mac program GarageBand v. 1.1.0 to actually record the album, and lacking any real recording equipment, I used the computer's built-in mike. For being a built-in mike, it performed very well, and the only real drawback was noticeable but not overwhelming static in the background. (You can listen to that whole album on my website, www.ajharbison.com, under the heading "Popular Music" on the Music page.)

Last year, for Christmas, my mother bought me the instrument I've been using for the recent recordings ("Just As I Am" and the clapping recordings). It's called The Snowball, and it's made by Blue Microphones. The cool thing about The Snowball is that it's a professional quality USB mike, so it's exceptionally clear while needing no intermediate interface--a standard USB cord runs straight from the mike into the computer. I love it. I still use GarageBand, and now that I've figured out how to use The Snowball with the program, it's great. (Before I realized that you had to change the audio input setting within GarageBand, I was still recording with the built-in mike thinking I was using The Snowball. That was a bummer.)

If you're the audio geek type, you can check out all the product specs on The Snowball's page. If you're too lazy to check that out, the basic stats are that it records at a 44.1 kHz and 16-bit rate--typical CD quality--and can operate in either omnidirectional or cardioid polar patterns. In other words, it can do pretty much anything I would ever need it to do, and it does it at a very high level of quality. I'm very happy with it.

The only problem that I've come across--and I've only discovered it recently--is that it has a slight latency problem with GarageBand; in other words, when I'm recording a second track, there's a slight delay between what I hear in the first track and what I'm recording on the second track. So if I sync the performance of the second track to the first as I listen to the first, when I play them both back the second track will be slightly behind. I haven't figured out how to fix this yet, and I'm not sure whether the problem is in the mike, the program, or my computer (it's getting old now and it's rather slow). I recorded "Just As I Am" playing guitar and singing at the same time (so it was only one track), and I'm recording the clapping pieces by syncing both parts to GarageBand's built-in metronome, which has worked thus far (and made me think of this A.W. Tozer quote). But if I want to do any other multi-track recording, I need to figure out how to eliminate the latency.

But in terms of quality, I couldn't be happier. The guitar and voice, even recorded together, sound terrific, as Albert pointed out--I joked to my girlfriend that "the guitar sounds better than live!" If you have any suggestions about the latency, let me know; if I figure it out, I'll post about it here. And until then, Albert and Fleming (and any others who are curious): I hope this satisfies your curiosity.

Interlude: My Recording Technology

Viva La Vida, Coldplay: First Impressions

Here it is, Mark: The long-awaited Viva La Vida review!

But before I dive in, two quick backgrounds. First, the background of the album: It is the fourth album of the rocking British band Coldplay, following the immensely popular X&Y of 2005. The album's title, "Viva La Vida," roughly translated means "Long live life." The album's cover art is a painting by Eugene Delacroix entitled Liberty Leading The People, which depicts a woman personifying Liberty and commemorating both the French Revolution of 1789 and the July Revolution (also French) of 1830. The album's producer is Brian Eno, who is known in the capacity of a solo artist as "the father of ambient music" and in the capacity of a producer as such of U2's album The Joshua Tree.

Second, my background with Coldplay: I consider Coldplay one of my favorite bands, and often cite them as an influence on my own music. I quite enjoy their first album, Parachutes--most of the songs are good but the really good songs are really good. Their second album, A Rush Of Blood To The Head, is better all around and I very much enjoy it. And the album that precedes Viva La Vida, X&Y, I consider to be my single favorite album of all time. I am not so presumptious as to consider it the best album of all time, as my experience is not so wide as to make that declaration; but it is alone atop all the others I have heard. There's not a song on it that I dislike or even feel indifferent about. It is excellent in every way and I simply love it.

With these prerequisite backgrounds now dispensed of, we move on to the TLB review.

I listened to the album one time through (thus the title, "First Impressions") on Wednesday night; I wanted to share my first thoughts with you, my faithful readers, and I plan to elaborate in future posts as I listen to it more.

Listening to Viva La Vida was a paradoxical experience for me. Part of me felt like I loved it, while part of me felt that I didn't understand it musically. It was simultaneously a completely fresh and original sound, while also suggesting many comparisons in my mind. The album progressed at a leisurely pace, but when it was done it seemed no time at all had passed.

The thing that stood out to me the most, above all else, was the album's energy, its exuberant exhilaration (if I may make such a bold alliteration). X&Y was dark, chill, mellow, while it seems Viva La Vida is almost bursting with excitement. It reminded me vaguely of Derek Webb's first two solo albums, She Must And Shall Go Free and I See Things Upside Down--although in that case the moods of the CDs were reversed.

Viva La Vida finds one of the world's greatest bands contemplating its mortality. With a title meaning "Long live life," song titles like "Cemetaries of London," "Viva La Vida" and "Death And All His Friends," and the lyrics of songs like "42," the whole album points to the coming to grips with death. It reminded me also of another great album that had a similar theme: Linkin Park's most recent album, Minutes To Midnight. But the contrast is perhaps more interesting than the comparison. In Linkin Park's case, the album is much more restrained, sober-minded and contemplative than their previous releases (and, in my opinion, is their best). With Viva La Vida, however, Coldplay responds to the contemplation of death with a celebration of life.

Such, in my opinion, are the philosophical underpinnings of the music--but on to the music itself.

The music itself is also rather paradoxical. As I just remarked to my roommate Mike, it's a sound unlike anything I've heard. In many ways it includes more elements of electronic music than their previous work: many of the beats are more reminiscent of electronic music than rock music, and many of the synth and atmospherics effects are as well. "Life In Technicolor," the instrumental overture to the CD, could very easily have come from a CD in Mike's electronic collection. And yet in other ways it's more acoustic than X&Y and sounds more like a live band jamming onstage than a carefully produced album from the studio. I must confess I've never seen Coldplay live--although to do so would be an experience only to be topped by seeing U2. But I imagine live performances of X&Y as a classic rock music performance, the band members rocking out because the music is just awesome; my imagination of a Viva La Vida performance is of the band members smiling, laughing and bouncing off the walls, not to be showy but just because the music is so much freakin' fun to play. The album also includes some Latin, African and Asian elements, apparently culled from playing world tours while writing the songs. The combination of styles is exquisite, intriguing and totally original in my experience.

Another thing that stands out very quickly is the mixing of the voice. I wrote in a post about Elton John that Coldplay sometimes mixes the voice at a similar volume level to that of the instruments, so that it doesn't stand out as it often does in popular music. I wrote that "they see the voice (at least in these particular songs) as just another instrument, no more or less important than the others, and so the blending in the mix is intentional. It puts the voice on equal artistic footing with, say, the guitar and drums," and that is very much in evidence on this record. I even mentioned the song "Viva La Vida" in the post, as it was available as a single on iTunes at the time, but that mixing style certainly pervades the album, with a few notable exceptions (such as "Violet Hill"). In a subsequent listen I'd like to listen with the lyrics in front of me, as they were often obscured by the other instruments.

The instrumentation of the album is also noteworthy. It is most certainly a rock album, with guitars, bass and drums holding sway. Coldplay's signature piano and pipe organ also make appearances, although much less than in X&Y. But the band makes use of a more colorful instrumental palette overall (to mix my artistic metaphors). The electronics and synths used are simultaneously similar to ones used previously and different, often more evocative of electronic and ambient music (likely Eno's influence). And while strings have been used on each of the band's previous albums, they are featured here in a hitherto unseen prominence. The Latin-flavored flourishes in "Yes" are particularly interesting (as are, in the same song, the luxuriously long electric guitar bends).

Some of the songs' rhythms are notable as well for their adventuresomeness (is that a word?). The instrumental interludes in "Yes" throw in an extra beat or take one away here and there, just to throw you off. And the final track "Death And All His Friends," after the first piano/vocal section and a more conventional 4/4 groove, settles into a rocking (but very atypical) 7/4 for the song's climax.

I know this post is already waxing very loquacious (perhaps too much so), so I will endeavor to bring it to a close. Overall, I must say that I greatly enjoyed Viva La Vida, but I look forward to uncovering further layers and nuances in subsequent listenings. True to the album art, the sound is revolutionary, certainly for Coldplay and (considering Coldplay's influence) possibly for others as well. It is a blend of styles that have worked for them in the past, while also being a departure and an attempt at something vastly different. The album's energy is abundant and infectious, and had me tapping my feet and bobbing my head even as I sat in my desk chair listening to my computer speakers. At this point, after one listen, it hasn't dethroned X&Y; but it's a pretty darn good record.

Viva La Vida, Coldplay: First Impressions