Anywho, these guys are more than satirists, but pretty savvy musicians. It takes a creative mind to come up with compositions, then they splice-slice-dice live non-musical footage into the compositions. The rhythms need to be kept to some extent so the speech can still be understood, but there are snips and repetitions so it slides right into the musical groove. It also allows satiric emphasis- you hear what the creators want you to hear again and again. The visual element gets spiced up by having the creators green-screen themselves to provide musical/satiric foils to the actual news bits. The music makes it memorable and catchy, but the real point is the political satire.

While a lot of the messages are liberal in nature, the musical style is pretty standard pop music. The heavy electronics, the ubiquitous auto-tune, and the ostinato and repetitions are very “pop”. I think the music genre lends a topical aura to the source material: that which is literally topical. While it definitely makes a splash today, the musical workmanship in the future will probably only be admired for its innovation, rather than as a work of art. You don’t go listen to old episodes of Auto Tune the News because the news is out of date, therefore the video is out of date. Topical becomes stale, stale becomes history, history becomes retro, and retro churns out hipsters and thrift stores, and who really likes thrift stores? Really? You just want to admire old things for being old. “These dresses are so silly! Let’s go get a bubble tea.”

Out of date isn’t necessarily bad. Some choice phrases (“Very thin ice,” “Hide yo kids, hide yo wife”) make the music a little catchy, but you sing that on the streets and people will give you the crazy eye. [aside: I may have turned the auto-tune remix of the double rainbow clip above into my ringtone. Listen to the end, and you'll see the whole troupe doing a live version. ] But still, there used to be lots of classical compositions that “quoted” other popular composers in their works…and nobody knows who those quoting composers are. They were topical. Now they’re forgotten (mostly).

Old clips of the Daily Show? Entertaining only because of the gags, not the news. There’s a huge difference between John Stewart making an impeachment joke about Clinton when Clinton is in office versus out of office for 8 years. It’s old. Yeah. Get with the times.

More up to speed, perhaps.

One of the biggest issues of this ossified study of hundred-some year old music is that our university students are being taught that Beethoven, for instance, is forever… or at least his music is.  We play them wonderful excerpts recorded on Steinway 9-footers of his Sonatae, and it never occurs to the young initiates that this music invites a more curatorial perspective.  Jan Swafford at Slate has a wonderful article with sound examples of the difference a period instrument can make.  After all, Beethoven had only 5 and a half octaves, and timbres that varied widely!  No wonder he treated each hand as a different instrument — the timbral differences in the high and low ranges made them sound quite constrasting indeed.

Back in the day we wrote our music for 5 miles, in the snow, uphill, both ways!

If you went back in time with only your computer, it’s saved internet cache, and a love for a cappella, how would you teach an arrangement if music notation hadn’t been invented? Well, if you’re Guido of Arezzo, you’ll just invent notation and that will be that…or you could utilize some non-traditional notation techniques. Fortunately, this article (hence the saved cache…get it?) will help timetravelers or acamembers who don’t read sheet music.

Read More…

I wonder what tunes TC would write. Probably the sequel to "I'm On A Boat," titled "I'm On a Plane."

A little while back, Public Radio did an excellent series of programs on American Music, called “American Mavericks.” Fortunately for us, you can read and listen to the great stuff online, even if you missed the radio broadcast (as many of you probably did).

Ironically enough, many of these programs were used in my American Music History class. Now I’m actually doing the readings…

Always listening for new things

There was a whole phase in contemporary music when quoting famous pieces was in vogue. The art of “mashup” is when your material is, essentially, other people’s stuff (plug for Girl Talk; I never danced harder at a concert). Brahms is said to have sketched his first symphony on a Beethoven symphony framework…was it number 5, or 9?

Anywho, if you’re looking for a great place to get a plethora of different a cappella tunes, check out A Cappella U. The host, Joey C, has been doing it for several years now, and he gives all sorts of styles and versions that provide juicy material for an arranger. You can download the free podcast here, or you can sign up and pay for 2 bucks an episode to get the full tracks.

He's on a mission from Gad.

From The Well Tempered Clavier.  Two tracks:

These two are particularly charming!  They are the fifth and sixth pieces within the Well-Tempered Clavier, and carry with them a certain spunk and personality — Bach was clearly writing with the intent of showcasing the tonal possibilities of all twelve keys, and accordingly the merits of well temperament.  Immediately after the very famous preludes and fugues in C major and C minor, the C# major counterparts showcase a glib, enthusiastic, thorough, and entirely endearing peek at the possibilities of what Bach must surely have considered extended tonality.  The Prelude is almost a taunt, an excited dance which dares to challenge, but never loses its friendly optimism.

In this recording, the notes sound conspicuously like sharp notes and not flat notes, akin to Db major.  I am yet to discover if the particular chord changes of Seventeenth Century works as compared to those of the Ninteenth Century in fact match these — however, I get the distinct sense that this prelude in particular is “sharp” in nature, and constantly strives upward along the circle of fifths .  It might be due to the tuning of the particular piano, also.  Nonetheless, the persistent presence of an E# sounds like Bach’s biting his thumb quite deliberately.

In any case, enjoy this set, and see it as Bach’s joy at having discovered a system of intonation which allows him to play such unexpected games centered around an impossible tonic.  This prelude is purely a delight in a new discovery, altogether with a good-natured teasing of the nay-sayers, who still can’t quite comprehend the enlivened frolick.

These two are played by Glenn Gould in 1965.  It’s noteworthy that Chopin would always play Bach prior to public recitals; nothing else could adequately prepare him for the independence of melodic line he would require.

It’s pretty striking how many jokes fell absolutely flat — the comedy writing for this show was rather poor, and the audience sounds somewhat canned and respectful.  I know that when I’m on stage (especially if there’s somebody wearing sequins), I love a raucous and enthusiastic crowd!  The philosophy of returning stagecraft in music to the event of the night (a la Rat Pack) is something I’ll probably rant about many times in the future.

At 3:49, during For Once In My Life, check out how the saxophones are playing the flute/piccolo parts from the original recording — at the time, the stage musicians were reading from the original orchestration (listen to the more-amateur choir!) and didn’t have the instruments or the facility to play these woodwind parts on the flute.  Not to disparage at all, just thinking about the resources available and how the same composition/arrangement could be deployed in multiple different environments with great success in all.

What a grand performance.  Stevie is incredible.

Update: Best moment is 3:54-3:56.  Diana points to herself, and is kinda a ham, but still very entertaining.  There are some stiff jokes in here that were written for Stevie as being full of himself, but don’t actually match his personality.  She’s an experienced stagecrafter, who is constantly interesting and engaging, even when her stage presence is meant to be secondary.  It’s also worth remembering that Berry Gordy originally hated the hip and uptempo version of “Once In My Life,” refusing to agree to its publication.

Stevie Wonder is young, talented, enthusiastic, and completely unaware of any stage drama.  He’s blissfully clueless.  Diana Ross, on the other hand is a fantastically seasoned performer: sexy, talented, and aware of how to best handle the situation.  She wins the night, while Stevie will laugh about it later, slightly embarrassed at his younger self.

Bizarrely, this type of music eventually made a comeback to the mainstream to become part of a major label push towards a swing revival.  The Cherry Poppin’ Daddies, with Zoot Suit Riot, helped lead the charge as kids around the nation found their parents’ dancing shoes to be quite comfortable indeed!  However, the secret of this movement is that before it was polished up and dressed in expensive suits, it was a sweaty, shirtless, punk rock outgrowth, formed out of University of Oregon dropouts.  Here are the Cherry Poppin’ Daddies in Eugene, Oregon in 1993… the video is rather raw.  I feel like I could catch Steve Perry’s buzz through the interwebs and across 15 years:

And here’s a video using their studio version, which sounds most authentically swing of their tunes — it’s the original arrangement, after all.

De Stijl. Or, The Style. Really, that's what it's all about.

Not music-related per se, but certainly an important figure in the history of artistic movements.  Most certainly you’ve seen some of his works of art, although I personally hadn’t been particularly aware of just what he was doing, when, or why.  Well, here are the answers, in order:

• What: Neo-Plasticism, a Dutch style that I must only imagine led eventually to the Swede’s version: Ikea.  Clean colors, shapes, and the full enthusiastic embrace of ideal forms alone — it was a celebration of Plato, although potentially the founders didn’t see it quite that way.  On the musical side of things, I tend to think of this as something in the way of 12-tone theory; the artists sought some idealized goal of perfection by deliberately avoiding naturalistic (and thus imperfect) displays of aesthetics, and favoring ideals.  Piet came up with his grid-based concept as a framework, and attempted to explore it as completely as he could: a black-grey grid with regions colored in the three primaries — I’m reminded of Schoenberg’s embrace of twelve “primary pitches” — and hoping to explore the potential artistic relationships and statements that could be made within such confinement.
• When: 1919 – 1931 or so; the Roaring Twenties.
• Why: Abstraction and Cubism had begun to take the place of Impressionistic styles (excellent art history site here.), and Mondrain and his Dutch colleagues began to explore an extrapolation of Cubism (which was already attempting to abstract generalized forms and expressions from literal depiction) into a study of absolute form.  This movement was concurrent with an elaborate expansion of jargon and constructs in the field of psychology; one hundred years before, most such scientists were still at work isolating various brain regions and their functions, often through very brutal methods.  However, the introduction of a new study of behavioral psychology helped drive this charge toward absolute input and output in discrete scales — one that would set the basis for an art that attempted to address the absolutes interpreted by the brain.

By placing art within a confined structure, we allow creativity to exist, by craftily manipulating a purposefully limited set of resources.  However, in the end, the art will fail to evoke emotion unless the audience is able to fully shift its mindset to match the prerequisite studies undertaken by the artist.  And so today, most of the public laugh at this type of art, and cringe at tone rows.  I know my heart is unmoved, by my mind is dancing.

WHERE IS YOUR BACH NOW?

“As I had the good fortune a few years ago to be heard by Your Royal Highness, at Your Highness’s commands, and as I noticed then that Your Highness took some pleasure in the little talents which Heaven has given me for Music, and as in taking Leave of Your Royal Highness, Your Highness deigned to honour me with the command to send Your Highness some pieces of my Composition: I have in accordance with Your Highness’s most gracious orders taken the liberty of rendering my most humble duty to Your Royal Highness with the present Concertos, which I have adapted to several instruments; begging Your Highness most humbly not to judge their imperfection with the rigor of that discriminating and sensitive taste, which everyone knows Him to have for musical works, but rather to take into benign Consideration the profound respect and the most humble obedience which I thus attempt to show Him.”  — J.S. Bach, dedication of the Brandenburg Concertos, 1721.

It’s profound just how gracious good ol’ Johann had to be in deference.  It offends our modern-day sensibilities, grown out of a Lockian liberalism and a strong humanistic drive.  But it also points out an important aspect of today’s political climate: music has always been sponsored through elaborate systems of patronage by a powerful few; it has not been at the whims of a public free market economy.  As such, continued investment of taxpayer dollars in the arts is highly desirable, and will continue to be.

More on the B’Burg Concertos later.  But a bit more food for thought: Bach wrote most all of this music specifically with a certain set of musicians at Köthen in mind — and it’s altogether likely that his familiarity with their particular abilities (or lack thereof) likely had something to do with the degree of difficulty of the parts he wrote.  Imagine: now, the Brandenburg concertos are treated as some kind of mythical divine gift from a past master (and surely they are!) but this master wasn’t merely a master of tones on an abstract tapestry of sound, he was also a pragmatic master of recognizing individual talents and abilities, and playing to personal strengths.  Rampant speculation, of course — I’d like to learn more to properly spin that.