Why the rage?

‘We see our music as a part of a cultural battlefield. We want to cut through the bullshit the system slams down young people’s throats. We are trying to present an alternative view of the world. Rage Against The Machine wants to build a bridge between the music and the movement[1].’

Even though Rage Against The Machine are certainly not the first band to be overtly politically minded, they possibly are the only one that never seemed to deviate or compromise. Since or before them, no other bands or musicians have shown such a lasting commitment to their political ideals. To corroborate that fact, one only needs to sample any of their four albums to realise that all their songs have a political and social content. They are not interested in dealing with any other topic most commonly found in popular music. As Morello once bluntly said: ‘A good song should make you wanna tap your feet and get with your girl. A great song should destroy cops and set fire to the suburbs. I’m only interested in writing great songs[2]’.

Zach de la Rocha, vocalist and lyricist was born in 1970 in Longbeach California.  His parents separated when he was one year old so he had to constantly do the move between his mother and father’s home. His childhood, growing up as Chicano in a predominantly white and conservative city of Irvine, was less than straightforward. He became aware very early that he did not really belong and as a consequence felt really isolated. His father Beto, a well-known politically minded artist whose work documented the plight of Los Angeles’ early Mexican community, was a strong influence and probably gave him his early sense of identity. When however, his father starting suffering from depression and became obsessed with religious faith, Zach’s life became really difficult: ‘I would go to see him on weekends and be forced to sit in a room with the curtains drawn and the door locked. He forced me to fast, I went through some really intense stuff.[3]’ Before long de la Rocha turned his attention to music as a way to escape and express himself. His early inspiration, as he was learning the guitar, came from the like of the Sex Pistols, Bad religion and Social Distortion. Soon however he turned to hip-hop, embracing totally the new art form, as for him it simply became a way to reclaim his dignity[4].

De la Rocha situates his political awakening in high school when he realised that one is only successful in the U. S. when one has been completely assimilated and has achieved a lot materially. At that time he also understood that as a consequence, the oppression that ordinary people were constantly subjected to was as much spiritual as political [5]. 

Tom Morello, guitarist, was born in 1964 in Harlem, New York city, to a white American mother and a Kenyan father. He also grew up in a politically active family. His father was part of the Mau Mau uprising in Kenya in the 1950s against the British and his mother founded the Parents For Rock and Rap Organisation in 1987, an association campaigning for the right of free speech in popular music.

Similarly to de la Rocha, injustice and racism were first made apparent to him at an early age. After her mother’s divorce, they moved to the suburbs of Chicago and there, as he was starting primary school he became the subject of racial abuse. His mother quickly realising the challenges his son was facing as a mixed-race child, set about explaining the causes of racism and factors affecting races relation in the U. S., to help him understand and cope with the situation. As reported in Devenish’s book, Morello recalls: ‘my mother laid the groundwork; she prepared me in a unique way to deal with what goes on in America, to face what it meant to be African-American in a white society. By the time I got to high school, I knew enough to be completely disgusted with what was being taught in history class. I was not exactly in sync with the thinking that Columbus was this benign explore, because I had come to view him as this genocidal conqueror. [6]’  In his teenage years, he started reading Malcolm X and developing an interest in Marxist politics. Later he went to Harvard University where he majored in political studies. Interestingly, his final year thesis was about students protest in South Africa. During his time at University, Morello really started to get involve with his guitar, developing his own style and practising extensively, sometimes eight hours a day[7]. 

Morello met de la Rocha during a gig and soon they realised that they shared common political views and were driven by the same motive to make music. De la Rocha recommended Tim Commerford, a childhood friend, to play bass whilst Morello knew of Brad Wilk from his previous project.

In 1991 Rage Against The Machine was formed. De la Rocha invented the name and first had intended to use it as an album title for his former band. As to how and why he came up with the name and its significance de la Rocha explained: ‘I wanted to think of something metaphorical that described my frustrations living in a political and economic system which fuel itself of the blood of the oppressed people all over the world for the last five centuries. A machine doesn’t have any humane understanding. To me, it was the perfect metaphor to describe the structure of the establishment.[8]’ Soon Rage Against The Machine was opening for local acts and accumulating a following of its own. Encouraged by the level of local support the band recorded a demo and manage to sell 5000 copies at gigs. They grew steadily in stature on the Los Angeles scene and quite quickly got their initial break when they provided support for the first Porno For Pyros’s concert. They were soon to sign to Epic records (part of Sony) when a scout from the company saw them performing at Lollapalooza II. The band however, would not sign until they were guaranteed total artistic freedom and a three albums deal[9].

In1992, they released their self-titled debut album and the picture chosen for the cover was the 1963 Pulitzer Prize winning photograph of a Buddhist monk immolating himself in protest against the oppressive Southern Viet-Nam government. Such a graphic image was a perfect choice to illustrate the abrasive musical and lyrical content of the album and left little doubt as to how the band would chose to promote their ideas. To replace the album in the context of its time, here are some events that marked the pre-release year 1991 and undoubtly influenced and affected the highly politically and socially aware de la Rocha and Morello.  

• U.S. and allied missiles and planes bomb targets in Iraq and Kuwait
• Antiwar demonstrations (No blood for oil)
• Operation Desert Storm begins and ends in 100 hours with Iraqi forces defeated.
• The Civil Rights Act of 1991 signed by President Bush strengthens existing laws and provides for damages in cases of intentional employment discrimination (Bush had threatened to veto the measure but has changed his mind.)
• Wall Street closes at 3004.46 April 17, just over 4 years after closing above 2000 as it rallies after the Gulf War in anticipation of an early recovery from the 9-month recession
• A black man, Rodney G. King is filmed being beaten up by the L. A. P. D.
• Famine kills more than 300,000 in Somalia [10]

The track Bullet In the Head is a perfect example illustrating the style and sound of the band. It also gives an insight into their mind frame and describes some of the radical ideas they are fighting for. The track, a fusion of rap, punk, metal and funk defines perfectly the sound of the band. The rap delivered by de la Rocha has the fluidity and rhythmical qualities associated with hip-hop crossed with the angst of a Johnny Rotten. For the first half of the song, bass and drums are locked in a funky riff reminiscent of James Brown and Morello on the guitar is alternating DJ’s like scratching noises in the verses, with hard-rock power chords during the choruses. The song cleverly alternate between tension in the chorus and restrained relief in the verses and one can clearly feel the frustration and anticipation rising in a perfect illustration of the lyrics. Tension and intensity of the music are slowly building up until the last two minutes of the track when all the instruments finally break into a sped up metal frenzy leading to the end of the track. This long section is only being interrupted once by a 35 second interlude where the heavy guitar riff is dropped and the emphasis is clearly put on de la Rocha’s voice and forceful lyrics. As for the lyrics, they deal with the mighty power of television as a media and how people tend to absorb its content without questioning much its usefulness and truthfulness.  

This time the bullet cold rocked you
A yellow ribbon instead of a swastika
Nothing proper about your propaganda
Fools follow rules when the set commands you
Said it was blue
When your blood was red
That’s how you got a bullet blasted through your head

I give a shout out to the living dead
Who stood and watched as the feds cold centralised?
So serene on the screen
You was mesmerised
Cellular phones sounding a death tone
Corporations cold
Turn you to stone before you realise

This second paragraph describes how television can distort events and how images can be made to tell a different story from the reality. Here, people watching television are called ‘living dead’ and the television ‘corporations cold’, an inhuman creation deprived of feelings or emotions that can perniciously turn anybody into a heartless, insensitive beings (turn you to stone before you realise).

They load the clip in omnicolour
Said they pack the 9, they fire it at prime time
The sleeping gas, every home was like Alcatraz
And mother f*****s lost their minds

Here, the lyrics refer to the F. B. I.’s agents mentioned above (the feds) as they are seen on the screen loading and packing their guns (the 9 millimetres) and supposedly waiting to coincide the moment of action with TV prime time. The sleeping gas is a metaphor for the way TV acts on its audience, putting people’s objectivity and critical sense to sleep. The reference to Alcatraz is quite clear as in 1969, the F. B. I. used sleeping gas to subdue a group of Native Americans that had taken hold and claimed ownership of the disused prison island. Incidentally, the lyrics also suggest that every home with a TV set is a prison and people watching it are metaphorically enclosing themselves. 

Just victims of the in-house drive-by
They say jump, you say how high

Those two lines and the one before simply describe how TV affects one’s mind, how the audience ‘the victims’ are losing their minds and do what they are told to do ‘they say jump, you say how high’. They are ‘victims’ because symbolically shot ‘drive-by’ in their own house and rendered either brain-dead or unable to think for themselves by TV programs.

No escape from the mass mind rape
Play it again jack and then rewind the tape
And then play it again and again and again
Until your mind is locked in
Believing all the lies that they’re telling you
Buying all the products that they’re selling you
They say jump and you say how high
You’re brain-dead
You gotta f*****g bullet in your head

Here in this verse, the TV is personified as a ‘mass mind rapist’ from whom no one can escape and the symbolic meaning of the ‘bullet’ is finally defined and made quite clear. De la Rocha also makes an allusion to some TV’s program tendency to repeat themselves as if to indoctrinate people and render them totally dependent.

This song really summarise what Rage Against The Machine is all about. It epitomises the values that are present in all their artistic output and for which they uncompromisingly stand for. Some critics however, after the phenomenal success encountered by the album started questioning the moral integrity of the band and the seriousness of their conviction. It seemed to them that being signed to a multinational such as Sony and claiming to fight against the machine, ‘the overall corporate capitalist bureaucracy that we are trained to obey from birth’[11], was somewhat incompatible. In the band’s opinion however, signing with a major label was simply a calculated move to help them reach and spread their message to a wider audience. Morello acknowledged the contradiction and to the band’s defence declared: ‘There is a conflict but how I look at it is, basically, while I eagerly await the day the United States government goes down in flames, I still use the U. S. postal system to write propagandistic letters to my politically minded friends around the country.’[12] 

Rage Against The Machine were never afraid to show their commitments and put their thoughts into actions. For instance in 1999, the band organised and headlined a benefit concert to raise some money for the International Concerned Friends And Family Of Mumia Abu-Jamal, the black journalist convicted of first-degree murder and condemned to the death penalty without, according to his numerous defenders, having had a fair trial. Tom Morello: ‘In the United States Of America you do not execute a man who did not have a fair trial. There is a word for that, and that word is ‘lynching’. The Philadelphia Police Department has a long and glorious history of framing suspects. He is simply innocent of the crime.[13]’  The case Abu-Jamal is only one of the cause actively supported by the band. De la Rocha for instance is also deeply involved with the Zapatista Army of National Liberation (EZLN), the armed revolutionary group fighting in the Chiapas to support the traditional way of the peasants and oppose globalisation and neo-liberalism.

As a conclusion I would like to cite Tom Morello one more time as he is describing his personal motivations and the band’s utopian objective: ‘There are a lot of bands who support some very noble causes, like abortion rights, environmental issues, and things like that. But we are talking about a bigger overhauling of society. To me, the reaction to our music is a reason for hope.[14]

Franz ‘Sonik’ Allard

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[1] Devenish, Colin (2001), Rage Against The Machine. New York: St Martin’s Press, p. 77          

[2] Ibid, p. 53

[3] Ibid, p. 8

[4] Ibid, p. 7

[5] Ibid, p. 11

[6] Ibid, p. 15

[7] Ibid, p. 17

[8] Ibid, p. 30

[9] Ibid, p. 39

[10] http://www.answers.com/topic/1991 (accessed 01 May 2007)

[11]  Hepatica, Sal: ‘Rage Against The Machine, Keeps ‘hem Honest’,      http://www.metroactive.com/papers/sonoma/12.11.97/music-9750.html  (Accessed 05 May 2007)

[12]  Devenish (2001), p. 40

[13] Ibid, p. 89

[14] Ibid, p. 85

 

BIBLIOGRAPHY: 

Devenish, Colin (2001), Rage Against The Machine. New York: St Martin’s Press.

Goodman, Amy (2004), The Exception To The Rulers. London: Arrow Books.

Toop, David (2000), Rap Attack 3. London: Serpent’s Tail.

Rage Against The Machine (1992), Rage Against The Machine. Sony.

Rage Against The Machine (1999), The Battle Of Los Angeles. Sony.

Crossover: A threat to classical music?

What is understood by crossover music? Generally speaking, crossover music defines the fusion of two different styles. In this paper the term will simply refer to the fusion between classical and popular music. Classical music has always been a major source of inspiration for pop and rock musicians. The history of pop music is filled with many examples of artists borrowing inspiration from the classical world, from the Beatles (Eleanor Rigby being a prime example) to Keith Emerson with his band ELP or Serge Gainsbourg (Lemon Incest, Aux armes et caetera notably). Other, harder to classify, artists such as Wendy Carlos or Tomita were also blurring the boundaries further by reinterpreting pieces from the classical repertoire using sequencers and synthesisers in lieu of orchestras. For some time, it was very much a one-way process, with the classical world staying hermetically closed to any pop influences, and the term crossover had not yet been associated with music. By the end of the 1980s, however, the classical world started to borrow ideas from the pop world and some clever marketing people had begun using the word ‘crossover’ to define the genre and sell it to the world. The term now loosely represents a classical work performed in a pop way or inversely, pop songs performed in a classical way as well as some easy-listening orchestral works, such as the soundtrack of the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

Today, the crossover market is huge and very healthy indeed, representing millions of pounds thanks to the ever-increasing popularity of artists such as the Planets, Charlotte Church, Vanessa-Mae, Yo-Yo Ma or the ‘opera meets pop’ quartet, II Divo, whose debut album sold 130,000 copies in the week of its release. Yet, can those ubiquitous artists, by their immense success, really threaten the traditional classical music market? Barry McCann, managing director of EMI Classics believes there is room for both genres.[1] Keedie, who was coincidentally signed by McCann and has been sharing bills with both boy bands and symphony orchestras, goes even further and says that ‘it’s possible to please purists while appealing to audiences who would never normally consider classical music’.[2] On the other hand, the journalist and author Norman Lebrecht believes the complete opposite is happening and that no crossover record has ‘ever attracted any single individual to explore the classical repertoire’. Furthermore, he is totally convinced of the damaging effect on classical music and explains: ‘What the major classical labels have done is simply replaced classical with other things and a genre that was in decline has been pushed to the edge of destruction. We have lost a major component in our cultural firmament and I don’t see that it will ever be replaced.’[3] Lebrecht dates the beginning of hardship for classical music to the mid 80s when the industry was hit by a drastic decrease in sales of core releases. He explains that at the time major labels such as EMI Classics ‘should have used their marketing resources to make stars out of contemporary composers and young performers’ but instead the majors have in his opinion ‘to all intents and purposes given up recording classics’.[4] Charles Rosen shares almost similar views and in his book Piano Notes, complains about records companies having mostlybecome ‘reprint houses’[5] (during the Compact Disc boom of the 1980s), being at the time effectively more interested in re-editing previous releases they knew (or thought) to be lucrative. Their lack of interest in releasing new recordings of classical or contemporary artists might actually have been at the origin of the crisis. Chaz Jenkins of LSO Live does not see the majors diverting their resources towards crossover as a problem, as for him smaller and more dynamic companies are able to cater for the core market while the crossover market maintains retailers interest in classical music.[6]  As usual, the truth probably lies in between those two.

Personally, I do not think crossover would, in an ideal world, represent a danger to classical music, if room is to be left for both genres to cohabit. The threat however, might come from the major record companies becoming solely interested in producing lucrative crossover acts at the expense of non-mainstream classical or contemporary music. On the other hand, I believe crossover could actually entice new listeners to classical music as it can serve as a musical taster and open one’s mind to the joy of  ‘great music’.

Franz ‘Sonik’ Allard

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[1]Lynskey, Dorian, ‘Rock me, Verdi’, The Guardian (9th December 2004)

[2] Ibid

[3] Ibid

[4] Ibid

[5]Rosen, Charles (2002), Piano Notes, The hidden world of the pianist. London: Penguin Books Ltd, p. 146         

[6]Lynskey, op. cit

BIBLIOGRAPHY:

Lebrecht, Norman (1996), When the Music Stops: Managers, Maestros and the Corporate Murder of Classical Music. London: Simon & Schuster Ltd.

Rosen, Charles (2002), Piano Notes, The hidden world of the pianist. London: Penguin Books Ltd.

More than just a cover

In this paper, I will talk about albums’ artwork in relation to music or how musicians can express their creativity differently using that particular medium. In parallel, I will also discuss how design and imagery may influence a listener’s approach to an album’s musical content.

The concept of designing album covers with an artistic as well as mercantile perspective is generally attributed to American graphic designer Alex Steinweiss. It started in 1939, when he offered Columbia Records his services to create modernist artworks to embellish the plain protective sleeves the company, like any other, was using as a packaging for their shellac records[1]. Thanks to Steinweiss’s input, records sales started to grow steadily. It followed that, as stated by De Ville in Album classic sleeve design, it finally occurred to all record companies that the personalisation of albums might be an important marketing tool helping to establish the distinctiveness and increase the desirability of their recordings at the point of sale.[2] At the same time, records in music stores progressively stopped being sold from behind a counter and started to be presented in racks instead, allowing customers to freely browse through them. According to Carissa Kowalski Dougherty in her article ‘The Coloring of Jazz’, record covers as commercial art had few distinct precedents and were likened to product packaging design only in their need for catching the consumer’s eye and conveying a sense of their contents[3]. Yet, they were conceived as more useful and durable than regular throwaway packaging and their unique function and status as a new medium made this time period significant in the development of album covers as an art form.[4] Nevertheless, not many covers were perceived as works of art in their own rights and few individual designers emerged in that period, their work merely seen as an extension of the anonymous artisan skills of printers.[5] During that time, from 1948 to 1960 it seems that the interaction between musicians and artists designing covers remained very limited. Consultations did not necessarily took place and designers were generally solely responsible to determine the way musicians should be presented to the public on the cover of their albums.[6] Designers at that time heavily relied on illustration, drawing on the tradition of books and posters design while simultaneously absorbing the vast catalogue of compositional devices that the figurative and abstract paintings of the inter-war years had explored.[7] One of the reason illustration was favoured over photography was that black-and-white photos were dismissed as unglamorous, considered too austere and documentary. The notable exception to the rule was in jazz where photographs of musicians captured during the recording session were often chosen to adorn record sleeves. Musicians in the 1960s, at least within the jazz and popular genres, started reclaiming their visual identity and became de facto more and more involved in the conception of their album covers, as for them it became a way to epitomise their musical and cultural allegiances. Interestingly, in England a surprisingly high number of popular musicians went to art school, a fact which might also explain the development of that trend and the musician’s keenness to appropriate the medium for themselves. One of the consequences was the decline of record labels’ in-house design studios in favour of the emergence of independent companies such as the London based Hipgnosis.[8] In terms of design, photographs, as characteristically used in early Beatles or Rolling Stones records, finally became predominant in the creation and design of covers. Yet, illustration made a comeback in 1967 with the psychedelic and hippy movement, as it gave designers total freedom to express the aspirations and drug-tinted philosophy associated with the movement. It became ‘the most appropriate means to realise the flights of fancy and complex psychedelic iconography characteristic of the period.’[9]

The 1970s saw the emergence of progressive rock, represented notably by bands such as Yes, Genesis or King Crimson. Concept albums became the norm of the genre and accordingly, record sleeves in a seemingly perfect representation of the music became increasingly complex, sometimes to the point of vacuity and pretentiousness. Audiences quickly grew tired and cynical of the extravagance and self-indulgence of the genre and in conjunction with the economic recession of the time, the circumstances inexorably led to the artistic and ideological revolt that was to become the punk movement. According to some commentators, the arrival of punk’s ‘do it yourself’ aesthetic around 1975 undermined the increasing professionalism of the music business.[10] However, as far as sleeve design was concerned it brought a liberating and nihilistic attitude to the art, best characterised by the first collaboration of Jamie Reid with the Sex Pistols for the cover of their first single God Save The Queen. The whole cover was taken by a white and blue effigy of Elisabeth II, her eyes and mouth ripped of, replaced by cut-outs and ransom-note lettering spelling out the title of the song and name of the band. Incidentally, Reid’s artwork for that particular release was judged to be the best record cover of all time by Q magazine in 2001.

It is sometimes considered that the advent of music videos combined with the apparition of the Compact Disc ended the classical period of the album cover design during the 1980s. In 1992, photographer and veteran album cover designer Bill Claxton even declared that for him the art of the LP cover had pretty much vanished with the arrival of the Compact Disc.[11]It is a fact that the financial resources devoted to packaging started to decline at that time. However, designers quickly adapted to the challenges imposed by the new format and started developing new ideas and techniques. According to Tom Hingston, who has notably created covers for Massive Attack and Robbie Williams, the smaller format even forced designers to produce better work.[12] As explained by De Ville, designers changed the rules, reducing the emphasis on the image for the front cover. Instead, they turned the CD booklet into ‘extended visual essays in parallel with the disc’s musical content.’[13] Some perceived the post-punk movement with its stylistic profusion as the first visual manifestations of postmodernism.[14] Concretely, that constant re-evaluation of the modern translated into a fusion combining characteristics from different styles and ‘provided an initial armature for a considerable reinvention of typographical conventions in all manners of graphic formats.’[15]That period also saw the emergence of a strong romantic revival best exemplified with the work of Peter Saville on New Order’s album Power, Corruption and Lies. On the cover Saville combined a 19th century flower painting by the French realist painter Henry Fantin-Latour with a colour coded alphabet.

What started to happen in the 1990s regarding the new trends developing in CD packaging can be summarised in a quote by sleeve designer Stephan Sagmeister: ‘apart from displaying lyrics and liner notes, they should make the consumer feel good about the band. A typical CD cover holds much more information than its vinyl counterpart. While album covers were almost like posters, CD covers are more like book design. Twenty-page booklets, transparent trays with concealed graphics underneath the CD, and elaborate printings are seen on many general releases’.[16] Popular music became extremely segmented into sub-genres (drill ‘n’ bass, ambient jungle, Brit pop, fusion metal, goth rock, gangsta rap to name but a few) giving designers new opportunities to develop a distinct iconography for each of them.

Today, according to Sonia Soltania, despite the threat represented by the mp3 economy, ‘there is no doubting the enduring importance of the record sleeve for enhancing or even transforming the simple act of listening to music’ as strong artwork can improve fans’ perception of the artist and their perception of the value of the physical product.[17]  Besides, even though budgets have yet again decreased for packaging, it is still possible for designers to do some fantastic work as ‘interesting ideas are ultimately driven by the creativity of the music itself’ and creative imagery will always remain proportional to how musically creative a band is.[18]On a technical side, thanks to the increasing power of computers, the advent of digital photography and the development of powerful software such as Photoshop, the creative possibilities offered to designers have become virtually limitless.

The artwork I will be discussing now in relation to its musical content is David Bowie’s Earthling released on Columbia Records in 1997. Davide de Angelis was responsible for the computer imaging and design of the album. The art direction however is credited to Bowie himself, corroborating the multiplicity of his talents and his interests in various forms of art. 

The front picture is a composite image using what seems to be a computer modified image of a landscape as a background surimposed by Bowie standing in a Union Jack frock coat (designed by himself and British fashion designer Alexander McQueen), turning his back to the viewer as if surveying and evaluating the scenery in front of him. Bowie’s stance has a definite military connotation, he is standing very straight, holding his hands behind him almost as if reviewing a battlefield. On a closer inspection, it also appears that his coat is lacerated which would suggest that it has caught fire. The colours are bright adding to the striking aspect of the composition. His name is quite apparent and leaves no doubt as to whom the artist is. The title of the album however, is not so visible and its meaning not necessarily obvious at a quick glance as the oddly spaced letters spells EART  HL  I  NG. The possible interpretations of the cover, in the attempt to analyse and understand its symbolic elements, are multiple. For instance until Earthling’s release, Bowie’s face had always been shown on the front cover of his records, with only one notable exception, the 1978 Lodger album. For Earthling however, it the first time he is actually showing his back and not his face as if to bring something new and unusual to the equation. That could possibly mean that he is still literally looking ahead after almost 40 years in the music business, not willing to look back on his career with a self-indulgent contentment. Similarly, it also implies that he is still a precursor, an innovator as he is placing himself ahead of the viewer with no one in front of him. Another interpretation that could actually complement the first one is that he is showing his independence and strength, turning his back to possible negative critics and detractors, thus showing an affirming his artistic freedom. As for the meaning of a frock coat cut in the Union Jack, it could mean that Bowie is actually proud of his British nationality and keen to promote the fact. The lacerations however, give him some street credibility and replace him among the earthlings despite his iconic rock star stature, as they are suggesting that he too has to fight some battles in his life. On the other hand the lacerations, reminiscent of the punk aesthetic, could signify in a provocative manner his discontent towards his motherland an justify the title of the album as he perceive himself as an earthling or citizen of the world rather than British. Or finally, it is also possible that Bowie is trying to renew with his old fantasy started in the 1972’s album Space Oddity, reinventing himself and becoming a new persona, this time taking the form of an alien visiting the earth.

Musically the album is daring. It is constantly pushing boundaries in a reminiscence of Bowie’s previous most emblematic and accomplished albums. Its textures are sonically rich and the album generally sounds quite adventurous and contemporary, all of which characteristics were suggested and implied by the iconography and imagery used in the cover. The style, an unorthodox fusion of drum and bass combined with looped and live electric guitars, is reminiscent in spirit of the time with Brian Eno on the Low, Heroes and Lodger albums. Interestingly, even though the albums were released during the punk phenomenon, they did not stylistically or aesthetically inscribe themselves within that movement. In Earthling however, Bowie’s irreverential, provocative but unpretentious attitude seem to have a lot in common with the punk ethic, hence maybe the lacerated Union Jack coat. Ironically, it has to be said that critics did not receive the album very well but it is as if Bowie had a premonition as he decided to show his back on the cover. With Earthling, Bowie once again, managed to re-invent himself, appropriating and absorbing different styles without losing his identity. With this album, and in accordance with the symbolism of the cover, he demonstrates that he stays an innovator, aware and open to new directions.

As music is slowly becoming intangible with the advent of mp3 and the inexorable disappearance of the CD, one might wonder how in years to come, sleeve designers will be using their talents and valuable knowledge gained after 70 years of fructuous collaboration with musicians. One possible conversion could be in VJing (Video Jockey) as a new trend is developing and video artists and musicians are more and more often seen working together, creating stunning live shows that incorporate live music and visuals.

Franz ‘Sonik’ Allard

 

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 [1]Bruil, Rudolph (2001), ‘Alex Steinweiss and other Artists and Designers’, The Remington Site (accessed 05 May 2007), http://www.soundfountain.org/rem/remcovart

[2] De Ville, Nick (2005), Album classic sleeve design. London: Octopus Publishing, p. 19

[3]Kowalski Dougherty, Carissa (2007), ‘The Coloring of Jazz: Race and Record Cover Design in America Jazz, 1950 to 1970’, Design Issues 23/1, p. 49

[4] Ibid p. 49

[5] De Ville (2005), p. 30

[6]Kowalski Dougherty (2007), p. 50

[7] De Ville (2005), p. 31

[8] De Ville (2005), p. 12

[9] Ibid p. 81

[10] Ibid p. 12

[11] Ibid p. 204

[12] Booth, Hannah (2002), ‘Labels remain keen to wear art on their sleeves’, Music Week 20/Feb/2002, p. 13

[13] De Ville (2005), p. 10

[14] Ibid p. 162

[15] Ibid p. 162

[16] Ibid p. 204 

[17]Soltania, Sonia (2004), ‘Wear your art on your sleeves’, Music Week 02/Oct/2004, p. 13

[18] Ibid p. 13 

 

BIBLIOGRAPHY:

 

Booth, Hannah (2002), ‘Labels remain keen to wear art on their sleeves’, Music Week 20/Feb/2002, pp. 13-14

Bowie, David (1997), Earthling [CD], Columbia.

Bowie, David (2002), Heathen [CD],Columbia.

Bowie, David (1991), Heroes[CD], EMI.

Bowie, David (1999), Lodger[CD], EMI.

Bowie, David (1999), Low [CD], Virgin.

De Ville, Nick (2005), Album classic sleeve design. London: Octopus Publishing.

Kowalski Dougherty, Carissa (2007), ‘The Coloring of Jazz: Race and Record Cover Design in America Jazz, 1950 to 1970’, Design Issues 23/1, pp. 47-60

Soltania, Sonia (2004), ‘Wear your art on your sleeves’, Music Week 02/Oct/2004, pp. 13-14

These are the Bad Plus – Jazz Café, 26 Nov 2004

The Bad Plus are the new jazz sensation coming from the US and they played the Jazz Café yesterday, their only London gig before embarking on a tour across the UK for ten more dates. If you have not heard of them yet, the Bad Plus are a trio consisting of Ethan Iverson on piano, Reid Anderson on double bass and Dave King on drums. All are in their thirties and have been playing together for more than ten years. Their big commercial break happened in 2002 when Sony/Columbia records offered them a deal after spotting them at the New York’s Village Vanguard. They already have recorded three albums together as a trio and their first album with Sony, These Are The Vistas, sold more than 70,000 copies a colossal number by jazz standards.

As I arrived at the Jazz Café yesterday the room was already filled with an unlikely mixed crowd of trendy people and youngsters that made me check twice that I had bought the right ticket. Well, if the Bad Plus are, as it seems, bringing a different and younger audience to jazz music they have to be congratulated for that. Thinking of it, the reason they attract a different audience is probably no stranger to the fact that they take music as a whole and are never afraid of spicing up their repertoire with jazz versions of titles by the likes of Pixies, Black Sabbath, Nirvana, Aphex Twin or Blondie.

I first encountered the Bad Plus in France during the 2003 ‘Jazz à Vienne’ festival and I remenber feeling completely mesmerised by their unique and stormlike performance. Yesterday’s gig was, if anything, even better. Iverson playing was quite inspired, somewhat reminiscent of Keith Jarrett, at times thoughtful and melancholic (as on the Satie-like number Everywhere You Turn) at other fiercely acute, taking on improvised solo lines at improbable speed with a joyful ease. King and Anderson were equally brilliant, subtle when they had to be or grooving away, trading licks and improvising with the perfect osmosis only long-time friends and collaborators are able to achieve. As much as I enjoy their studio effort, the Bad Plus are still at their best playing live. It is true that once one has tried the real thing the canned product always seems a bit bland afterwards.

Be warned, the Bad Plus are daring, intelligent yet accessible, technically faultless and very, very talented indeed. Check them out now!

Franz ‘Sonik’ Allard

Don Giovanni returns to the Coliseum

For the second time and after a less than favourable premiere in 2001, Calixto Bieito’s production of Don Giovanni is back at the ENO for twelve performances only.

After several controversial productions, it has become evident that the Spanish director does not like conventions. This is after all hardly surprising from someone who readily admits being influenced by the work of such iconoclastic figures as Luis Bunuel and Pedro Almodovar. Bieito’s unprecedented approach to Don Giovanni may seem a bit too drastic to some but at the same time, how could one possibly adapt an 18th century opera to fit modern issues without taking a radical position?

Mozart and Da Ponte’s opera was about love, murder and betrayal or Don Giovanni’s dismissal of God and ultimate journey to hell. Bieito’s subversive adaptation is not merely darker but offers an accurate description of a disenchanted generation. There is no hope or God in Bieito’s reading, only boredom and vacuity a nihilistic Don Giovanni and his entourage are trying to ignore, abandoning themselves in pagan rituals of sex, booze and drugs. Worthy of mention is the Spartan décor and cold halogen lightning, creating a purposefully bleak atmosphere where desperation is made palpable. Not everything is so dark as to completely obliterate the humour of certain situations. We are still taken on an emotional roller coaster, Mozart and Da Ponte’s intentions thus being faithfully respected.

In three years, it appears that Bieito has gained followers and it showed on my night out at the Coliseum. The audience loved it and how could it be otherwise? This is a masterful reinterpretation of Mozart and Da Ponte’s work, superbly realised and performed with great taste, I was particularly impressed with the interpretation of Leporello by Iain Paterson and Donna Elvira by Mary Plazas.

All in all, this is a thought provoking production, yet never pretentious or boring. Sure, opera’s snob won’t like it but who cares? Opera is a living art and as such should be allowed to reinvent itself without fear of being dismissed by some obtuse or narrow-minded critics. Coincidentally, the idea of banning critics from theatre premiere seems a very good one and if it happens should also apply to opera’s first nights. At least it would give any new challenging productions an honest chance during the first difficult weeks.

Overall, Bieito has to be praised for his talent and boldness and ENO for its dedication as it continues to support a production in which it believes despite a bad press and an uneasy financial situation.

Franz ‘Sonik’ Allard

Nils Petter Molvaer, Khmer (1997)

Born in 1960 in Norway, Nils Petter Molvaer started to play the trumpet at an early age. As a teenager, however, his love for heavy rock music drove him to learn the rudiments of drums, bass and electric guitar. In 1979, after some time playing in various rock bands, he finally joined a conservatory where he studied the trumpet for two years before dropping out. Prior to the release of Khmer, his first album under his own name, Nils Petter Molvaer had gained a solid reputation as a composer and trumpet player, working with jazz household names such as Elvin Jones, Gary Peacock or George Russell.

Khmer was released in 1997 on the prestigious German ECM label. Molvaer, who composed the eight titles of the album and plays the trumpet, guitar, bass guitar, percussion and sampler is also joined by six other musicians: Eivind Aarset and Morten Molster on guitar, Rune Ludvigsen on dulcimer, percussion and guitar, Rune Arnesen on drums, Ulf W. O. Holand on samplers and finally Reidar Skar doing sound treatments.

The music on this album is a mix of various cultures and influences, not surprisingly so knowing Molvaer’s eclectic musical tastes (notably Miles Davis, Billie Holiday, Don Cherry as well as Led Zeppelin, Brian Eno, Bach, Joni Mitchell and Johnny Cash). Those influences are all more or less subtly felt in Molvaer’s music, which also manages to break free from the Afro-American jazz tradition in a novel way. What makes it different is the extensive use of electronics to create a blanket of sounds; sonic textures and colours thus effectively replace traditional jazz harmony. The obvious remaining links to jazz are the improvised parts and Molvaer’s playing style and phrasing, sometimes reminiscent of Miles Davis. This is not to say that Molvaer has not developed his own style; he can be lyrical and restrained but also very incisive and upfront, his faultless technique allowing him to express the richness of his ideas effortlessly.

Overall Khmer truly is a work of contrast; at times the music is dark and quite oppressing, as on the opening track, at others it is almost joyful (listen to ‘Platonic Years’), or contemplative as on the final track, purposefully called ‘Exit’. It is also interesting to note that the music works well at different levels, the listener can either treat it as quality ambient music or simply turn it louder and immerge himself in a unique and intriguing sonic world.

Perhaps the greatest achievement of Molvaer and his musicians on this album is the way they managed to convey a sense of unity whilst combining such diverse influences.

Franz ’Sonik’ Allard