Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Review: Samantha James's Subconscious

Over the holidays, Amazon had a thousand albums at reduced prices. Being the nut I am, I went through most of them to try to find some gems (I’ve had a hard time knowing where to turn on recent music, and this was as good a place to start as any). I wound up buying 5 of them, and even as the others are daring and wild and more academically what I like, I keep coming back to this album more than the others. (Hopefully I’ll review the others soon; for posterity, they were the self-titled albums from Eskmo and Animals as Leaders, 11:11 by Rodrigo y Gabriela, and the Budos Band’s third self-titled album.)

So why this one? Well, it’s one of the warmest, most inviting albums I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing. To those of you who know me, I don’t say that lightly, particularly because most albums with those terms turn me off for being far too simple. For example, I can’t stand Colbie Caillat at all, but “Dirty Epic” and “Luetin” by Underworld make me serenely happy. This is a bit inverted, I suppose, but the point stands: people who seem happy for no particular reason wind up irritating me. In other words, you can’t just play me a happy song and then say, “Hey Brandon, be happy now,” but you can lead me there with the right musical backing.

To me, this is the essence of Samantha’s best work; while the lyrics are basic, optimistic, sunny, and those other things that normally don’t resonate with me, they’re paired with music that makes me want to embrace the sentiment, i.e. music I would have liked anyway. At the end of the album, you want to know Samantha and draw energy from her outlook; you want to create and be happy with life and all those things she’s doing, as there’s clearly something about her approach that’s unique to her. There’s a reason she needs to be making this music and a reason I need to be listening to her, and that, more than anything, is the definition of artistic vitality.

So how does it stack up in my usual nine-part analysis?

1) Chord sequences. The album’s all about its jazz backdrop, which not only sets a mood but also gives depth to a usually shallow genre. In places, it’s actually pretty difficult to hum anything that isn’t the melody, which is an oddity for accessible music. The title track, for example, has a ton of ninths and sevenths floating in the mix – it’s something like Em9-F#m7-C#m9 in its main progression – so you sing along with the melody because it’s the only thing that would glue it together. So the chords add depth and bring focus to Samantha. I can’t think of a good comparison for this, which is of a course a compliment.

2) Song structure. Generally, it’s verse-chorus stuff here. Nothing groundbreaking, but “Life Is Waiting” is closer to an instrumental than it isn’t, with more of a verse-interlude structure, and it’s a nice change-up.

3) Mood. Oh, the wonderful, wonderful mood. My opening paragraphs basically are about the distinctions in mood that makes this a good album and others less so, but it’s clear from the album and the press that accompanies it that Samantha and her producer are about creating a mood. One of the biggest distinctions between this album and other “happy” electronic artists is that Samantha’s moods are more intuitive (Myers-Briggs N) than sensing (S).

Many dance songs reference beaches or clubs or other places when they want to talk about happiness. I can’t swim, I don’t dance well, and I’m introverted; these places are all places that don’t make me happy, therefore. The music that goes with these sentiments usually is brighter, cheerier, but ultimately simpler as well – throw your cares away and dance!, they tell us; and I can’t really do that.

Samantha’s looking for peace within herself, and so the music is more headphone-oriented and warm than what I’m railing against. She’s not celebrating summer so much as helping you make it through winter. Mind you, there are a few S moments through the record, but they don’t sound as authentic as someone who’s truly letting go in an S way – it’s still sentiments written and musicked (if you will) by a fundamentally introspective person.

4) Layers. Tons of them; I’m still picking them out after almost three weeks with this album. Top marks here.

5) Genre-bending. Not a focus here, but the songs sound of a piece while having more variety than they initially let on, and the organic instrumentation – acoustic guitars, electric pianos, and so on – allow this to be more firmly in singer/songwriter camp than most house-based music. The combination allows it to be neither Dido nor Tiesto, so that’s positive.

6) Innovation. For an album emphasizing warm subtleties, it is fitting that it takes a bit to notice that the lead track, “Waves of Change,” is house in 14/4, with a more difficult melody to fit into those chords than it seems on the surface. It would be foolish to expect some sort of experimental album in the works, but it is nice to know that Samantha knows how to get these oddities into the mix seamlessly.

7) Rhythm. It’s four-on-the-floor house music; what did you expect? That said, she’s clearly the type who would sound amazing working in a more explicit jazz context – something like “Soon” by Jazzanova would be a perfect vehicle for her. If she wanted to go this route, I know she could, so I hope that she does every now and again.

8) Production. This might go under Layers normally, but the production does a fantastic job in putting the synthesized/dance elements in an organic context. Often, you get dance productions that don’t have a good feel for acoustic instruments and produce them in a way that might as well have been programmed anyway. (As an acoustic guitarist first and an electronic producer much later in the game, I cringe when this happens.) Then there are acoustic-based songsters who, when they turn to sequencers, pick the most basic of sounds, get fascinated with the technology, and don’t complement their songs well at all.

The production sounds equally at home with both ends of the spectrum, and it’s always easier said than done when it comes to fusing all the elements. This helps a lot with the feel of the album; shorter songs like “Amber Sky” sound integral instead of between-singles filler, as the production folds it into the mood rather than leave it amateurishly jarring. This is one of the best-produced albums I’ve heard in awhile; it’s much appreciated.

9) Album flow. Given how many electronica albums don’t even feel like albums, the standards are different here than in, say, progressive rock, but the album has a definite, sensible flow even as it might have put a few too many slower songs at the end. There’s never an urge to skip a song or put it anywhere else, so that says they got the flow right.

Two other considerations are worth mentioning. First up: the lyrics. Poking around Facebook and Twitter, I suspect that Samantha is a much deeper person than her lyrics show. “Because I know this is where I belong” rhyming with “Take me where you think I belong” in “Subconscious,” while “Maybe Tomorrow” has “Knowing this is where you belong” as an end rhyme doesn’t speak highly of that depth, however. This is one of those concerns that’s pretty easily fixed if you look at lyric sheets as a whole, so it’s not a fatal flaw or anything, but that area could use a bit of work or maybe just more experience. Ordinarily I would just dismiss this as “who’s paying attention to the lyrics? It’s dance music!”, but it’s clear that she is paying attention and wanting to express something meaningful about herself, so as a fellow lyricist I want her to get to where she’s going.

Second: the vocals. This is how I know she cares about the lyrics; she’s so warm and inviting into those lyrics that she has to mean them and care about them – it’s impossible to sing that way otherwise. Samantha James singing is beautifully authentic and authentically beautiful. I think I could listen to her sing anything and be enraptured for hours; she could sing a spreadsheet or some fine print and my heart still would melt. The biggest touchstone for her music and stylings would be something like Soulstice (the San Francisco group circa 2002 who did “Lovely” and “Illusion,” not the rap group), but Samantha is so much more inviting (it’s a word I’ve been overusing, but it fits) than them or even Jan Johnston or Kirsty Hawkshaw, whose works I adore.

Again, it goes back to the intuitive side of Samantha. If you drew up a “lucky fan gets to spend a day with their hero” sort of contest for several electronic artists, I get the picture that with the divas it would be studio, then business concerns, then the club. With Samantha? You’d go to a cozy coffee shop, discuss the creative power of a morning, meet some deep thinkers, then write songs in the evening, maybe put on a CD or two, and in the end you’d feel like you had known each other for ages and that you had been blessed by getting to experience that day with her. It’s the same feeling you get off listening to the album; you feel blessed to be part of her world for an hour. And ultimately, that’s why I keep coming back to this work, and why you should come to it too. As she would put it, “Lift your head; embrace.”

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Review: BT’s These Hopeful Machines

Released last week, These Hopeful Machines came amidst much hype and fanfare, as BT’s fans were in a veritable frenzy over the album. And why not? Over the last 15 years, BT has put up a catalog where the B-sides outclass entire artists and the A-sides outclass, well, just about everything. Basically, BT is invincible when he’s on, and with every release there’s a hope that it will be the most on collection to date. Certainly, BT himself feels great about this release, noting in a video that for the first time an album of his feels complete to him upon release. You’d imagine that it’s hard to leave something out of a 1:52 long album, but never count BT out for having more ideas than 2 CDs can hold.

This is one of the strangest reviews I’ve done of any album or career. It has some weaknesses in areas that I value highly, but is one of the all-time best in several other categories so that it gets an ace rating from me despite my misgivings. In normal category order…

1) Chord sequences. The album is quite weak in its structures, with the evil I-V-VIm-IV showing up once and the typical trance VI-VII-Im showing up once and again. Given BT’s love of classical music and innovation and his jazz influences on This Binary Universe, it struck me as surprising and a letdown, but I suspect what’s going on is that BT adheres to a version of my theory of complexity creep, i.e. a single song can have only so much complexity to it before it loses meaning to the listener. You can only take the listener so far, and given that BT’s production and song forms are among the most experimental and complex of all time, maybe the concession to complexity creep is here. The most “out there” (the outest there?) track, “Le Nocturne de Lumiere,” confirms this, with only two chords going through it while the production goes insane. BT wasn’t intending to make simple music, so it’s likely that the chord sequences are simple to let everything else bounce off it and still make sense. Still, I can’t rank this category highly.

2) Song structure. The structure is so fluid throughout the album that BT in essence challenges previous ideas of what a song even is. The tracks are so fully developed that at the end you feel like they’ve assumed every possible iteration somewhere in there. Because of that fullness, other songs and albums feel short and undeveloped by comparison. I’ve never heard an album that dwarfs other albums like that. These don’t feel epic despite their length, because they twist and turn so often; instead, they make everything else feel short. Completely unique, which is a way of saying the album gets absurdly high marks here.

3) Mood. BT’s always been about mood, but the critical difference is that, unlike those trance albums that claim to take the listener on some quasi-spiritual “journey” and really just mean that the songs are kinda ambient trance, These Hopeful Machines has real mood swings and changes. When BT’s daughter sings the last chorus of “Forget Me” over chimes, the modern rock number changes gears completely, and you’re forced to reevaluate the chorus’s meaning as well as the entire previous song. That’s what mood changes should do. As for the moods themselves, they’re sometimes obscured by the glitchy production, but they’re still set effectively, and they’re juxtaposed extremely well.

4) Layers. There are plenty of layers of I-don’t-know-what under all that production; BT doesn’t ply his trade in minimalism. For once, though, I can’t hear them all too well, as the mixing/mastering process gave a very modern feel to the album. This may be an area where I haven’t heard the album through enough times to pick them out. We’ll say neutral to positive here.

5) Genre-bending. Several of the songs are both rock and electronic at once, particularly the leadoff single “Suddenly.” At different points one or the other takes over, but overall it’s almost 50% in each category. It’s rare not only to hit the middle dead-on, but it’s even rarer to make a song that is good in both categories. Electronic artists trying to straddle the rock fence often have their production techniques give them away, be it a drum machine taking the live feel off the rock or the guitar sounds being too synthesized to feel rockin’. This is the first electronica album I’ve heard where the rock actually feels like rock, and that authentic feel (aided by BT’s being able to play guitar well) gives it two broad genres instead of sounding like one is compromising the other. Compare this to any of Moby’s rock numbers and you’ll understand what I mean; when the songs need guitars and live drums, BT puts them in, and that alone is worth noting.

Besides that, the fluid song structures are such because it allows BT to insert any genre he feels like at any point in the song. It helps that he wrote a lot of these songs at new wave tempos and with that sort of feel (covering the Psychedelic Furs’ “The Ghost in You” being the secret decoder ring there); new wave historically was one of the best rock-synth crossover genres, and that tempo allows trance and rock to co-exist peacefully. This album is masterful at genre-bending; just as it makes you question what a developed song is, it also makes you question what electronica and rock even mean. That’s power.

6) Innovation. If somehow you hadn’t picked this up reading so far, top marks for innovation, especially as those innovations go to question basic song construction concepts that no one’s really successfully challenged for a long time. Besides that, the morphing breakdown in “Le Nocturne de Lumiere” from 4/4 to 6/8 and then a slow-down is sick on the song structure and innovation route; it took very careful production to pull it off convincingly, but it’s perfectly presented.

7) Rhythm. The rhythms aren’t that complex this time around, and on the rock songs they’re a bit too simple (although, as noted earlier, they do feel like rock songs, so that’s the tradeoff, I suppose). There are tons of glitchy rhythmic elements present, but the beats are remarkably spartan. That’s not my idea of a good time, but oh well. I suppose too much beat might drown out the other things.

8) Production. BT lives up to the fact (not just my belief) that he is the best producer ever. Enough said.

9) Album flow. Without the thorough development of the songs, this album would feel choppy, a bunch of singles in different genres put on the same collection because it was time to release something. With that development, however, the songs all feel like they belong together, making the flow excellent (which is vital for something this long). It also helps that BT grouped his guest vocalists together, with only his own performances interspersed. It tends to annoy me for flow/authenticity reasons when an electronic artist uses about three vocalists evenly through an album; it’s very hard to make that feel like a unit. But by having the guest vocalists not “interrupt” each other, the album flows naturally, almost like Jes or Kirsty Hawkshaw or Rob Dickinson dropped in and then left. Indeed, the whole album feels like BT’s brain map, in a good way. “Over here, we have trance, while if you look to your right, you’ll see rock. Please feel free to purchase souvenirs from our gift shop.”

I don’t have a category for this, but BT’s vocals are top-notch. If you’ve heard him sing before, you know he’s always been more than serviceable, but it’s to the point where he’s better than his guest vocalists. Again, unlike Moby or someone of that ilk, BT’s voice also works in rock, which is necessary given how many times it shows up. The vocals are key to this album’s success, and on earlier albums I’m not sure his voice would have been up to it. It certainly is now; one listen to “Suddenly” and it’s clear he’s one of the best vocalists, guitarists, and producers in electronica today.

As mentioned, it’s very strange for me to put such high praise on an album where the chord sequences and rhythm (at least drum-wise) are pedestrian. But on song structure, genre-bending, innovation, production, and album flow, These Hopeful Machines is an historical landmark, redefining several musical ideas. I know I’m questioning my own song composition processes afresh after listening to this, and with it being so unique and iconic, I haven’t really been in the mood to listen to anything else since it came in the mail. I’m sure if you give it a chance that you’ll feel the same way.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Magic and Music: Step Links

Now that the series is over, this last post for January serves as a repository for all the playlist links from Lala.com. Since I'm still uploading the songs, I have brackets next to the links indicating [how many are up/how many are on the album] if the album is incomplete.

Furthermore, all my posts for January are about Magic and Music. So, by using this link to the January 2010 blog archive (http://evidenceofautumn.blogspot.com/2010_01_01_archive.html), you'll have a permanent link restricted to this segment of the blog.

Azorius: http://www.lala.com/#memberplaylist/47893P81260/ [8/12]
Dimir: http://www.lala.com/#memberplaylist/47893P81255/ [11/13]
Rakdos: http://www.lala.com/#memberplaylist/47893P81272/ [10/14]
Gruul: http://www.lala.com/#memberplaylist/47893P81266/
Selesnya: http://www.lala.com/#memberplaylist/47893P81252/ [12/14]

Orzhov: http://www.lala.com/#memberplaylist/47893P81253/
Izzet: http://www.lala.com/#memberplaylist/47893P81268/ [7/11]
Golgari: http://www.lala.com/#memberplaylist/47893P81264/ [10/12]
Boros: http://www.lala.com/#memberplaylist/47893P81251/
Simic: http://www.lala.com/#memberplaylist/47893P81273/ [7/11]

Bant: http://www.lala.com/#memberplaylist/47893P81261/ [9/11]
Esper: http://www.lala.com/#memberplaylist/47893P81263/ [7/10]
Grixis: http://www.lala.com/#memberplaylist/47893P81265/ [8/11]
Jund: http://www.lala.com/#memberplaylist/47893P81269/ [8/10]
Naya: http://www.lala.com/#memberplaylist/47893P81277/

Oros: http://www.lala.com/#memberplaylist/47893P81271/
Intet: http://www.lala.com/#memberplaylist/47893P81267/ [6/8]
Teneb: http://www.lala.com/#memberplaylist/47893P81274/ [10/13]
Numot: http://www.lala.com/#memberplaylist/47893P81270/ [8/11]
Vorosh: http://www.lala.com/#memberplaylist/47893P81275/

Magic and Music: Vorosh (Green-Blue-Black)

http://www.lala.com/#memberplaylist/47893P81275/

For my last trick, I unveil Vorosh. There are very few differences between this one and Teneb as an album, except for the slight differences between white and blue. In other words, this album's a lot more focused on beat, pulse, and the electronics of it all, while white allows for more acoustic textures in its Golgari-type musings. There's also a large black Simic component to this one. Enjoy.

Global Communication - 4:02
Future Sound of London - Lifeforms (Path 3)
Order in Chaos - Dismiss Space, Science
Mystical Sun - Innerworld
Deep Forest - Deep Forest
Opus III - Outside
Blu Mar Ten - Coloratura
Future Sound of London - Cascade (Part 1)
Bassic - Precipitation
Joachim Spieth - You Don't Fool Me
The Orb - Montagne D'Or (Der Gute Berg)

Magic and Music: Numot (Red-White-Blue)

http://www.lala.com/#memberplaylist/47893P81270/

Primarily red Azorius and white Izzet, Numot has a weird but orderly time of it. The beats may be passionate, but they're in their place, the way Boros would want them; it's just that Numot adds blue to make it techy rather than military-y. This compilation's a bit more hodgepodge genrewise than several of these, but it's all right; blue-red combos don't care about such things.

BT is the ultimate in Numotocity, and he proves it with "The Internal Locus" off the immensely colorful This Binary Universe.

Biosphere - Phantasam
(Mega Man) - Electrolytic Man
Plaid - Squance
BT - Ride
Black Dog - Seers and Sages
Blu Mar Ten - The Feeling (Remix)
Deadly Avenger - Deep Red
BT - The Internal Locus
Plaid - Headspin
Way Out West - Sequoia
Aphex Twin - Come to Daddy (Little Lord Faulteroy Mix Version) [just to begin and end the album with weird child voice songs]

Magic and Music: Teneb (Black-Green-White)

http://www.lala.com/#memberplaylist/47893P81274/

This wedge is the most balanced across its combinations of green Orzhov, white Golgari, and black Selesnya, consequently feeling complete. That said, it suffers from the same issues one would have listening to Golgari or Selesnya; not a lick of excitement (without blue's oddities or red's passion, what do you get?). But its mood is spot-on, and it's perfect for a wintry night.

(Secret of Mana) - Pure Lands
Marco Torrance - Real Love
Leftfield - Black Flute
Susumu Yokota - Soft Tone
Mystical Sun - 7 Generations --> Ceremony
Opus III - Guru Mother --> Cozyland
Underworld - To Heal
Banco de Gaia - Maya
Kraftwerk - Mitternacht
Opus III - Stars in My Pocket
Durutti Column - Requiem for Mother

Magic and Music: Intet (Blue-Red-Green)

http://www.lala.com/#memberplaylist/47893P81267/

This is one of my favorite lists, for although it doesn't really have a strong flavor Magically or musically, it holds up well as a compilation. Like the Simic, the biggest issue with compiling is that you have neither white nor black; all moods must be firmly in the middle. It's almost all green Izzet and red Simic, as blue Gruul is one of the most antithetical combinations around (though "Lush 3.1" pulls it off). I think of the five wedges, this is the one that most feels like it's the colors it is. If I asked you, "this CD is made of three Magic colors - what are they?", you'd probably do a fine job at getting them. This one surprised me with its high quality, I'm proud to say.

BT - Divinity
Underworld - Banstyle/Sappys Curry
Amon Tobin - Nightlife
808 State - Doctors and Nurses
Orbital - Lush 3.1
Hybrid - Beachcoma
Susumu Yokota - A Slowly Fainting Memory of Love and Respect, and Hatred
Underworld - Please Help Me