writing for a symphony

everybody knows i love owen pallett. everything he does pushes the envelope, and his music is just so beautiful, and my girlfriend is a little worried that i love him more than i love her (i don't, but it's close). so even though i had mixed feelings about twelve polearms, a work of new music by pallett commissioned by the bang on a can all-stars (who subsequently performed the work with pallett at last weekend's bang on a can marathon), you won't hear me say a single bad word about it. anyway, the real importance of twelve polearms isn't its substance, but its significance. there is an increasingly awesome trend in music, of independent artists composing classical-style works or performing with orchestral ensembles, and i just want to say i think it's amazing, and has incredibly exciting potential.

though twelve polearms is perhaps the least conventional of these collaborations (the work was prefaced by a lengthy, humorous introduction read by pallett that detailed its origins; suffice it to say that they were... otherworldly), it is certainly not the first. aside from metallica (which doesn't really count at all anyway), the first major piece of this trend was probably the bqe, sufjan stevens's homage to the brooklyn-queens expressway. new yorkers went mad for tickets (i don't even want to say how much they went for on craigslist), but it wasn't a huge creative stretch for stevens - after all, the illinoisemakers are practically an orchestra in themselves! so i think a great deal of credit for this promising trend is owed to musical directors, whether of BAM (who commissioned the bqe as part of their nextwave festival), bang on a can, or symphony nova scotia, who performed in conjunction with native son richard terfrey in april. this final collaboration is my personal favorite of the three, because of the deep level of cooperation between terfrey, who performs under the pseudonym buck 65) and the symphony, who performed a selection of buck 65 songs as well as a 15 minute work entitled "hymnpeace (remixed)," commissioned from conductor dinuk wijeratne by the cbc with solo parts for cello, percussion, and turntables. i came upon a recording of this show while trawling the pirate bay one afternoon, and though i downloaded it for its novelty as much as anything else, i've since found it to be absolutely brilliant.

there's a quite a tangible difference between symphonic rock and rock with symphonies, and while i can't stomach the expansive, layered sounds of the arcade fire or their ilk, david christensen's nuanced arrangements complement and re-envision buck 65's songs en masse; the symphony isn't terfrey's backup band, and their parts are integral, not afterthought - this isn't a bullshit string tribute to buck 65. yet, even though the majority of the performance is buck 65 songs, wijeratne's "hymnpeace (remixed)" is the worthiest composition, and the truest collaborative effort of the evening. as he explained in the work's introduction, the fragments of melody tossed back and forth between terfrey, solo cello norman adams, and the rest of the orchestra was written as a deliberate counterpoint to the first few televised minutes of the war in iraq. wijeratne then adds a wrinkle to an already daring production: terfrey's part in "hymnpeace (remixed)" is entirely improvised, and one section of the piece was composed so that terfrey and adams improvise simultaneously, as the rest of the orchestra plays their scripted parts. wijeratne's piece is not a work of new music, unencumbered by the almost petulant rebellions of that movement, and is an engaging and rewarding composition.

as exciting as the indie artist-as-classical composer idea is, i think it remains the responsibility of music directors to encourage and promote this trend, and bring even more musical prodigies into the mix. without their guidance (or financial support), there will be little impetus for successful independent musicians to try and write music for symphonies, especially for solo artists who are far more comfortable creating and performing alone (throughout the concert, terfrey repeatedly mentions his high levels of nervousness, and pallett apologized for his anxiety on saturday night as well). there is a lot of promise in this trend, and judging from the support terfrey, stevens, and pallett have received already, there will be more to come.

if anyone with influence is reading, you should commission a work from dan snaith, right now.

"feels like" & "misdeed"
stream the entire concert here, and an older buck 65 show here, both courtesy of the cbc.

a six page article on my favorite obsession

when i was doing a little research for bang on a can tomorrow (fyi: owen goes on around 11 pm), i came upon a previously unseen NYTimes magazine article, titled "the return of the one man band." i haven't made it through the whole thing yet (got to go to work), but anything that talks about my favorite genre glowingly can't be bad. so check it out, and go see bang on a can tomorrow!

songs i'm sent: sportsday megaphone

ready for a surprise? i'm totally into this new british one man band! like, i never saw that one coming either.

londoner hugh frost is the mastermind of sportsday megaphone and self-described purveyor of "elaborate karaoke," a concept he describes with, well, this (he also uses lots of vocoders & walkie talkies during live shows). frost recently sent me the the two songs that are on his june 16 7" release, LA, and though this is only sportsday megaphone's second release, he is planning for the future (and how). his debut so many colours / so little time is due out in august on rob da bank's sunday best label, but he's already slated to play bestival (not surprising) and zoo thousand festivals, in addition to a couple dates around england with i was a cub scout. the songs (grab both below without delay) are more hopped-up than many of frost's one man band colleagues, and his lyrics are quite vitriolic. "LA" is a furious anti-scientology diatribe, written while frost was (appropriately) living in los angeles and an observer of the church's two-faced policies, the chorus punctuated by the declaration "you can go outside / and you can fucking die!" ( in an interview with this is fake diy, frost elaborates on "LA"'s meaning and impetus. he also takes a potshot at americans... jackass.) LA's b-side, "young lust," is a little more par for the course, electro-pop wise. a slightly vulgar song about uncontrollable teenage sex, "young lust" overflows with twee cheekiness, and offsets "LA"'s anger evenly.

i like both of these songs a lot.

"LA" & "young lust"

fun fact: one of sportsday megaphone's last.fm tags is "yay."

at war with walls and mazes

i got excited about son lux back in the day (february) and then didn't really do a whole lot about it, because, frankly, i thought the single "break" was significantly better than the rest of the album. i listened to at war with walls and mazes for a couple weeks without getting hooked, and it eventually got retired to the pile of "what could've been" records without me really noticing it. but i woke up today, with exciting plans about riding my new bike to the olafur eliasson exhibit at moma, and of course it was fucking raining. goddamnit. so, wallowing in my own self-pity, and with my music player pointed at the "S"s, i kinda accidentally found myself listening to at war with walls and mazes for the first time in a long time, and i've realized it's definitely a better album than i originally gave it credit for.

the major issue i had with it originally was how indistinguishable the music is, the songs often identifiable only when maestro ryan lott's lyrics change. assembled from his library of aural scraps and fragments, the album is cohesive to the point of nearly being interchangeable - though each song is uniquely constructed, they, as a whole, lose their individual character and blend together into a sonic haze. when i saw son lux open for why? in march, i had been listening to his album for several weeks, yet i couldn't identify a single song until he started singing verses. the problem stems, i think, from lott's graveyard of sounds, which are all different notes, or noises, or whatever, but all have the same aural integrity, the same neologic, electronic quality. his sounds have the same effect, so their nuances are like a tree in a forest - their very sameness makes them universally reductable. and even when lott uses organic sounds, like violins or pianos ("war," "stand"), they can are so disembodied that these snippets don't transmit the inherent atmosphere of such instruments. this problem, however, has been reconciled through ignorance though - since regaling it to the bench, so to speak, my ear is less anxious and more content to absorb than critique. so even though i find at war with walls and mazes's sameness occasionally oppressive, now that it's unhitched from the playing cycle i finally appreciate son lux.

the singular tonal hue of at war with walls and mazes can be jostling, as it was for me, accustomed to constant musical variety as my ear is. but then i started to perceive the album as a whole symphonic work, and the one-word songs as movements within the piece. every movement on at war with walls and mazes is titled by one evocative word ("betray," "wither"), lending the album a conceptual feel, and, for a while, i tried closely concentrating on lott's lyrics to see if it was. certainly, themes of doubt and unfaithfulness and revenge run through the work (and are evident in lott's vocal croak), but it's unclear what he is referencing, and it seems far too pedantic for lott to have written an album of love and loss. whatever its meanings, at war with walls and mazes is certainly a more successful work as a whole, a song's individual vagaries taking on greater meaning and significance. at war with walls and mazes's uni-hued tones are not recycled limiters, but an overarching stylistic choice, emblematic and representative of lott's fundamental message. and while i'm not 100% on what that message is, maybe it's not a verbal one at all, and merely a forceful reminder of the polarity of albums wholly conceived.

at war with walls and mazes has lots of good moments, some of which are songs and others which span songs. i think the second half of "raise" (starts at 3:27) is the single most compelling section of the album, a sizzling crescendo into a theme that could soundtrack a hollywood explosion. my personal preference is for son lux's most damaging tracks, the chaotic escalation and freak outs, epitomized by "weapons" and "wither," though it is the mellower songs that endure longer. "betray" and "stand" are twins here, easy and, at times, more conventional fare in a work that simultaneously provokes and soothes (in its defense, "stand" has an incredible mid-song choral eruption). however, i maintain that at war with walls and mazes shouldn't just be boiled down to its "best" songs - it's not the type of thing to listen to piecemeal. it is unified by an excellent cadence, lott's sound collages dipping and rising (without drifting) regularly, climaxing in the middle of songs or not at all with impunity; at war with walls and mazes tests new ground, defying and reigniting the stagnant expectation of the album in independent music.

"break" & "raise"

buy at war with walls and mazes from anticon.

son lux has been getting a lot of press lately for his remixes. stereogum just published his vocal-only remix of jamie lidell's "little bit of feel good," his remix of radiohead's "nude" is popular, and my brightest diamond is selling his remix of "inside a boy."

also, don't forget that there's a free unreleased track called "do" available from anticon as well.

i'll be lightning

what can you tell about a person's music from just looking at them? well, if they have long scraggly hair and wear faux tribal iconography, they're devendra banhart. if they wear eyeliner and wedding dresses and propose to marry crowds, they're definitely kevin barnes. if they have silly looking, ungroomed beards and noisy pedals, they're bj from parts & labor. and, of course, if they're a new zealander who looks like a leprechaun and plays all the instruments on his debut album and has a kickass live show and simultaneously evokes kurt cobain and jeff tweedy, it's gotta be liam finn.

i was first introduced to the sprightly down under-er during cmj, when he opened for the brunettes at an all-new zealand party, and i was instantly hooked on his hooks. dressed in flannel and ripped jeans, with tousled hair and a full beard, finn looked every inch a garage rocker, a snap judgment confirmed by his free-spirited, rambunctious set. nearly a one man band (finn employs eliza-jane barnes on vocal harmonies & hand percussion), he darted between bass, guitar, and drums to set his loops, and rocked out gratifyingly, if a little unexpectedly. i'm on record as a fan of one man bands, but finn is not your average loopmaster. he is a frenzied punk rocker who doesn't have time for a band, or maybe he just prefers to play everything himself. the point is, don't expect some long drawn-out climactic shit. his songs are tidy little bundles of energy, and if i hadn't seen him perform, i would never have guessed that he does it all himself (including his own vocal harmonies). finn bends the concept of a one man band, eschewing electronicy gadgets for traditional instrumentation and songwriting, and i'll be lightning, finn's debut solo album is an pleasant mix of folk and garage rock.

pleasant, yes, but not always enrapturing. i'll be lightning clocks in at 53 minutes, and the length is a burden, the album's second indistinguishably blurred. it is enjoyably front-heavy, from jangly opener "better to be" and new single "gather to the chapel," languid and serene, to "lead balloon" and "fire in your belly," the latter a gentle lament with the excellent lyric "your heart starts beating like a discotheque" and the former post-club punk. at the outset, i'll be lightning's tracks alternate between garage and folk, but as the album progresses, the rock slowly fades, revived only on "this place is killing me." finn's folky side is solid, but the electric guitar lover in me can't stomach it. another strike against finn's is the lack of catchiness; his garage tunes are jam-packed with hooks, but he seems incapable of crafting similar ones with an acoustic guitar in his fists. an exception is the title track, a progressive choral number with some swell guitar dissonance in the background.

there's too much love and loss in i'll be lightning for it to be much else than an album of regret, no matter how it's arranged. what else could a song called "remember when" imply? finn starts on the right foot, pairing his more melodramatic songs with upbeat numbers, but his sober side wins out around the album's sixth track, "lullaby," and dominates the rest of the record. i like liam finn, and i wish i'll be lightning was an album that lived up the set i saw during cmj - i guess i'll just have to wait for his next one and hope he stays in the garage a little bit longer.

"gather to the chapel" & "lead balloon"

buy i'll be lightning from

best album by a one-man band

simply put, i am fascinated by one-man bands, the relatively recent phenomenon that is aided, abetted, and allowed by the mind-bogglingly vast array of noisemaking electronic gadgets, thingys, and doodads available (or, if you’re on a budget, a macbook is probably as good). i am a devoted fan of one-man bands of every style and persuasion, ranging from daniel snaith (caribou), owen pallett (final fantasy), eric san (kid koala) or otis jackson, jr. (madlib), to even geneviève castrée (woelv). each creates in me a feeling a wonder, amazement even, as they systematically assemble songs from scraps, building intensely complex aural structures from single, abstracted fragments. even relative nobodies, like remember remember or alexander tucker, instantly impress me as they build loop after loop, for their discipline and order as much as anything else; i know i wouldn’t be able to keep one rhythm in my head, much less five, six, seven. my ear has always been drawn to progressive, complex songs (i first realized this when i identified [and rocked out to] every part of “found a job”, reveling in the talking heads’s layers and rejecting the sloppiness of the ramones), and while i find that fullest satisfaction is watching these multi-tiered songs constructed in a live setting, there is something immaculate and perfect about one-man band studio albums that can never be reproduced. so, what’s my favorite one-man band album of 2007? pitchfork skeptic though i am, ryan schreiber and i are on the same page about one thing: how fucking awesome person pitch is.

person pitch, the third solo release by panda bear, was very nearly my favorite album of the year, a work of staggering brilliance that compels listeners with its dualism, simultaneously intricate and blindingly simple. panda bear is the bestial pseudonym of noah lennox, a songwriter who has risen to prominence mostly (prior to 2007) due to his work in animal collective, infamous freak-folk progenitors, but striking out on his own might be the smartest thing lennox has ever done. despite my current love of the album, i spent most of 2007 ignoring it. the reason? i am SO not an animal collective fan. i tend to listen to them as much as i listen to bright eyes, the arcade fire, or the eagles, which is to say, never. (side story: person pitch impressed me so much that i even gave strawberry jam a listen; i turned it off halfway through the first song. ew.) but person pitch skillfully avoids the jarring pitfalls and irritating, pointless grating of animal collective by simply ignoring it. the album is melodic more than anything else (nearly to the point of overflow), lennox’s songs woven together by carefully conceived happenstance, with more flavors in the mix than jambalaya. the result is an unendingly enjoyable album, but one that is charismatic and rewarding as well as entertaining.

person pitch is a rare album by any standard. assembled from a smattering of singles, 7"s, and one-off songs, it still clings together with an enviable stylistic cohesion. with some exceptions, lennox's lyrics are mostly so distorted that they are indistinguishable, which really prioritizes the music. one exception is album opener "comfy in nautica," which entreats the listener to "try to remember always / just to have a good time." "comfy in nautica" deserves its popularity; in addition to being the album's best known (and most accessible) song, it really sets person pitch's tone and framework. starting as a cascade of clanking machinery, lennox pares that harshness away to the slow regularity of marching feet and a single, looped choir note that hits every other beat - such is the album's formula, simple and intoxicating repetition.

person pitch is aesthetically divided into two categories, based solely on song length. the album features two epic compositions, "bros" and "good girl/carrot," brilliant works that, together, make up more than half of person pitch's length. despite their length (both clock in at over 12:30), neither feels contrived nor too long - they are performed without haste or waste, the type of songs where the removal of one note would make a profound difference. both are fluid, progressive songs with multiple melodies and themes blending into each other seamlessly. all of these, however, are attributes of the album as a whole, and "bros" and "good girl/carrots" are merely larger versions of "take pills" or "i'm not," expanded. every song on the album is viscerally alive in your headphones, and listening to person pitch on constant repeat doesn't diminish its brilliance in the slightest.

as part of the album's artwork, panda bear helpfully provides a look at his working environment, a menagerie of electronics that belies person pitch's rich, organic sound. though created mostly from samples and distorted sounds, the album is fuzzy and warm, almost lo-fi in its tenderness and aural intimacy. person pitch's formula is a simple, straightforward one: lennox starts each song with a sample, then adds a couple more, and sings on top, often manipulating his vocals, and then adds a couple more samples. analyzing his approach may satisfy some academic thirst for knowledge, but person pitch doesn't need it. the album is a gem, and well deserves the several nods it has received for best of 2007. if you a) haven't it heard yet or b) haven't bought it yet, you are c) missing out. go out and get it tomorrow.

"take pills" & "i'm not"
buy person pitch at paw tracks.

view people party (a fan-made concert documentary of three panda bear
performances in 2007) at eat tapes.