Miss Piggy Lunchbox

Well you heard about love givin’ sight to the blind
My baby’s lovin’ cause the sun to shine
- “Pride And Joy”

The blues have always been a bit of an enigma to me.  Give me a blues tune in isolation and I’m loving it.  But put a few blues songs back to back and I’m very quickly bored.  An entire genre built around the same three-chord, 12-bar progression?  It’s astounding the genre has so many performers and devotees.  Hasn’t it all been done?  What are they hearing that I’m not?  Is it like dog whistle music or something?

All of which becomes tribute to Stevie Ray Vaughan that I like this album as much as I do.  Much like with the blues, I’d never understood the passion surrounding Vaughan, all of which seemed to spontaneously arise when he died in a helicopter crash following a show in Wisconsin when I was in high school.  I’d never heard of him before, and yeah, his technical prowess was amazing, but it kind of felt like the eulogizing exceeded the oeuvre.  As you can tell, I was all ready to write a review along these lines until I gave this album a few listens.

As a music reviewer, I consider it my job to find descriptions for enjoyment (or not) of music. Sometimes, though, I just can’t do it.  Much like with the Janis Joplin review I punted on, I’m tempted to regurgitate the same platitudes everybody gives: filled with soul and feeling, master of his craft, etc.  All of it’s true, but you’ve got better things to do than read that about a 27-year-old album.  Suffice it to say that this is one of those rare works of art that manages to be a pinnacle of the genre’s achievement as well as an excellent introduction to the genre, accessible to the neophyte and appreciated by the connoisseur.  It is to guitar-oriented blues what Kind Of Blue is to mid-century jazz and what Appetite For Destruction is to heavy metal.

So why only four lunchboxes?  Specifically, because I think the shuffle in “Tell Me” is played, “Rude Mood” is too much (too fast and dizzying) and not enough (derivative, uninspiring melody) all at the same time, and “Pride And Joy” is a little too easy.  Generally, well, maybe it’s just because I just have some trouble with the genre’s limits.  But that’s on the genre (and me), not on SRV, who kills this, far exceeding my expectations of what was possible.

Rating:

Mixer: “Love Struck Baby”
Non-keeper: “Rude Mood”
Filed Between: The Vaselines (The Way Of The Vaselines—A Complete History) and Velocity Girl (¡Simpatico!)

The Norwegians don’t come out looking so great on this one, as the Finnish Sibelius’ pieces outshine Greg’s considerably. The Norwegians don’t really have a rivalry with Finland, as Finland’s culture, language, and history are quite distinct from the strict Scandinavia of Norway, Sweden, and Denmark. Heck, even Iceland has more in common with those countries than Finland. But due to their shared boarder and approximate shapes, people like to lump the two together. Moreover, the point is that if you put Grieg on a CD we don’t appreciate it not being the best thing on said CD.

But who knows if Sibelius’ pieces really are better than Grieg’s. I can tell you that these specific performances are, but for the first time I really feel like a classical music reviewer as I am able to have a strong preference for two different recordings of the same piece. Despite the strengths of his other two pieces and the relative shortcomings of Grieg’s, it’s Sibleius’ “The Swan of Tuonela” that fails so miserably here. I reviewed another CD with a version of the piece on it about a year ago, and though I didn’t comment much on it, it did get kept. Even without that version, I’m not sure the recording here would get kept. Despite having the same conductor and soloist, the versions are markedly different. All the weight and passion are gone, and the English horn doesn’t even sound like an English horn. I’ve always been skeptical up until now about whether all the ink that’s spilled over which version of which pieces are the best is worthwhile, but now that I can contrast these two I believe it. If the same conductor, orchestra, and soloist on the same record label, can make the same piece sound so dramatically different, it’s an entirely new game.

Sibelius’ other two pieces on here shine. “Valse Triste” is a brilliant combination of 20th century compositional techniques overlaid on an 18th century musical form, while Finlandia still rings with a bold nationalism that, for all its pitfalls, still vigorously and animatedly denounces Soviet influence in Finland, presciently summing up a culture’s passion and music’s direction decades after its 1899 date of composition.

Grieg’s macro pieces on this disc are the Peer Gynt and From Holberg’s Time suites. You know Peer Gynt, or at the very least you know “In The Hall Of The Mountain King” and probably “Morning Mood” (listen here and here). Originally written as an accompaniment to Ibsen’s five-act play of the same name, Peer Gynt is now most commonly played in the much smaller format of the two suites presented here. They’re very good, in particular the gorgeously orchestrated build and release of “Aase’s Death” and the dramatic, vivid beginning to “The Abduction Of The Bride.” However, there’s also a little bit of blandness, as in parts of “Arabian Dance” and “Peer Gynt’s Return Home,” though, to be fair, this is likely not as noticeable when performed programmatically with Ibsen’s play. “Morning Mood” is cliché by now, as I’m certain I’m watching a commercial whenever I hear it, but it’s still magnificent and overcomes its modern associations. “In The Hall Of The Mountain King,” unfortunately, does not overcome its omnipresence in modern culture. It doesn’t help that it follows “Anitra’s Dance,” which might have well come straight out of the also overplayed Nutcracker. It gets kept, though, in part to keep the suite together.

From Holberg’s Time is a suite written in 1884 to celebrate the 200th anniversary of the birth of a Danish-Norwegian playwright, and, as its title suggests, is a collection of courtly dances. Like Peer Gynt, I find it to be a mixed bag as well. There’s nothing bad in the bunch, but the “Sarabande” and “Gavotte” can’t even really sniff the jock of the magnificent “Praludium” or “Air.”

This is an enjoyable if not entirely remarkable CD pretty much all the way through. I’ll always think of it as something of a disappointment, though, since Deutsche Grammophon, von Karajan, and the Berlin Philharmonic can all do so much better, especially given the material these two composers provide.

Rating:

Mixers: Peer Gynt Suite 1: “Aase’s Death,” From Holberg’s Time: “Praludium”
Non-keepers: From Holberg’s Time: “Sarabande,” “Gavotte;” “The Swan Of Tuonela”
Filed Between: Grieg/Schumann (Grieg: Piano Concerto in A Minor / Schumann: Piano Concerto in A Minor (perf. Leif Ove Andsnes, cond. Mariss Jansons, orch. Berlin Philharmoniker))and Gruntruck (Inside Yours)

Typical me, I started something and now I’m not so sure…

– “I Started Something I Can’t Finish”

Turns out I really like the Smiths, which is a surprise, especially considering there’s not a single member of this band named Smith, which was a huge f**king disappointment.  Anyway, I think it’s because even though the songs are all about being sad and lonely, lead singer Morrissey doesn’t spend much time being hesitant about it: he’s sad and lonely and wants to feel you up and he’s going to make sure you are aware of that, even if it means he’s going to have to perform the musical equivalent of following you around and breathily whispering his problems into your ear.  Or maybe it’s because the band just writes great songs.

It’s late and this is a greatest hits album, so without further ado….

“Hand In Glove” – this is my second-least favorite song on here, and if there’s a track where Morrissey is all timid about being gay, sad, and lonely, it’s this one.  At points it sounds like he’s forgotten they’re recording a song.

“How Soon Is Now?” – If you know one song by The Smiths, this is it.  “I’m lonely and I need to be loved/Just like everybody else does.”  I always thought this was Depeche Mode or somebody like that.  This song has that signature guitar wail…have any rappers used that?  They should.  More bands should cover this.  Huge and awesome.

“Shakespeare’s Sister” – Whoa whoa whoa.  Stop.  STOP!  This is awful, and an awful lot of awful.  This is like the day the band tried coffee or something.  Easily the worst song here.

“That Joke Isn’t Funny Anymore” – The narrator of this track is telling his friends that their jokes about people less fortunate than them aren’t funny, which hits close to home because if you ever say something like “grammar nazi” to describe somebody who’s persnickety about grammar or “recycling nazi” to describe somebody who is vigilant about recycling around me I will definitely point out the inappropriateness of using the word “nazi” in that context for the way it diminishes the true horrors of the Nazis.  This is a mediocre track until the “…and now it’s happening in mine” part, at which point the album ratchets it up to 4.5-lunchbox levels right up through the second-to-last track.  If “Hand In Glove,” “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now,” and “Shakespeare’s Sister” weren’t on here, or maybe even if two of them weren’t, this would probably be a 4.5-lunchbox album.

“Shoplifters Of The World” – I love this guit solo…it’s damned near glam rock.  T. Rex lives!

“Last Night I Dreamt Somebody Loved Me” – A perfect example of how Morrisey and The Smiths get their whiny, sad reputation: “Last night I dreamt/That somebody loved me/No hope – no harm/Just another false alarm.”  I can’t argue with the fact that these lyrics are blatantly dark, but let’s not forget that these songs are at least as good as the lyrics are depressing.

“There Is A Light That Never Goes Out” – As a lousy song at the end of this album, this serves to be the thing that that one-night stand said right after the mind-blowing orgasm that served to make her a one-night stand.  Oh this hurts here.

Rating:

Mixers: “William, It Was Really Nothing,” “How Soon Is Now?,” “Bigmouth Strikes Again,” “Panic,” “Girlfriend In A Coma”
Non-keepers: “Hand In Glove,” “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now,” “Shakespeare’s Sister,” “There Is A Light That Never Goes Out”
Filed Between: Elliott Smith (Figure 8) and Sneaker Pimps (cassette single “Tesko Suicide (LP Edit)” b/w “Post-Modern Sleaze”)

I got this two-disc set for Mahler’s eighth symphony, more often referred to as the Symphony of a Thousand since it premieried with 171 instrumentalists and a chorus of about 850. It’s a monster-sized symphony and widely regarded as one of the canonical pieces that would influence, directly and indirectly, most other 20th century classical pieces. The eighth’s reputation is well deserved, as I’ve never heard anything quite like it, however I came away from this recording more enamored with Mahler’s fourth symphony.

The fourth premiered in 1901 and is simultaneously gorgeous, unpredictable, and immediately accessible. Its four movements hold tight to traditional symphonic form. The main themes are comfortably tonic, but Mahler’s development of them introduces touches of dissonance here and there that bring an air of excitedness to modern ears. The list of symphonies I’m familiar with is very short, but this is almost certainly my favorite of that small bunch.

The lengthy eighth symphony is accompanied by a chorus nearly thoughout its entire 80 minutes. It is divided into two parts and, by its extensive use of vocal soloists, is reminiscent of cantatas from centuries earlier. The eighth is a difficult, challenging listen. I’m talking straight from Algebra to Calculus hard. This symphony will make you feel stupid…honestly, I think it’s very similar brain patterns to that lost-in-math-class feeling.

Like all challenging music, it sounds better if you’re paying attention to it rather than focusing on some other task while it’s playing in the background. The first part is bold proclamations layered upon bold proclamations topped with even bolder proclamations. It places a strong emphasis on choral harmonies and themes, especially prior to the wacky, Debussy-esque orchestral interlude midway through. The last nine minutes are fabulously majestic.

The second part uses the text from the final scene of Goethe’s Faust, complete with choruses of angels, blessed boys, younger angels, penitents, “more perfect angels.” The first 14 minutes are quite enjoyable. It contrasts with the first part by starting slowly and quietly, with a lone, trembling violin and continues in dramatic, suspenseful fashion. The final 10 minutes, with their glorious climax, are brilliant. I defy you to listen to that many choral members sing the praises of pagan gods and not come away spiritually moved. The 36 minutes or so in the middle, though, are quite ponderous and dense. I’m talking four-dimensional geometry from a translated Soviet-era textbook hard. You’ll walk away from this part not quite sure what you just heard, whether you understood it, or whether there was really anything to understand, but convinced that there was definitely a lot of something there.

The sound on these recordings from the 1980’s is amazing. The performances are note perfect and every participant can be heard clearly. If I close my eyes I can see all 1000 performers crammed into my office.

Rating:

Keepers: Symphony 4, Movements 1, 2, and 4, Symphony 8, Part 1: “Veni, Creator Spiritus,” “Imple superna gratia,” “Veni, Creator Spiritus” (again), “Gloria Patria Domino,” Part 2: “Waldung sie schwankt heran,” “Uns bleibt ein Erdenrest,” “Blicket auf zum Retterblick,” “Alles Vergängliche”
Filed Between: Made In MN—Everything From A To Z (a two-disc Minnesota music sampler put out by Best Buy) and Main Stage Live—Falcon Ridge Folk Festival