I don’t generally like it when someone recommends a singer or a song. Usually, it is just someone with a slightly unique voice or more often well produced sound. And while I appreciate all that, it means nothing to my life. There are lots of people with great voices and there are even more great producers. What I crave is honest music simply performed. I would choose Jules Shear’s The First Freeze After The Fall any day before The Buggles’ Video Killed the Radio Star.

It is in this context that I present to you Dayna Kurtz. She is an amazing talent — both as a writer and a musician. And here she is off her DVD, Postcards From Amsterdam — Live in Concert. She’s doing the song “Touchstone” off her album, Otherwise Luscious Life. I especially like the simple slide guitar work:

H/T: Ryan Hall

In 1986, Laurie Anderson put out a concert film, Home of the Brave. I remember that Will and I went to see it at the Plaza Theater in Petaluma — one of those great old theaters that showed a different double feature each night. God I loved that! Anyway, we were big Anderson fans and so we went. As I recall, I wasn’t that impressed with it. This is probably because it didn’t have as many stories as I wanted. There is a lot of just straight music.

But I found it on YouTube last night. And I put it on, just to check it out. But I was mesmerized. I ended up watching the whole thing. It’s really fantastic: music, narrative, dance, visuals. I could get very intellectual about it. But there seems no reason. Normally, I just post a single song, but this is a good choice to break convention. But I’ve cued it up at the start of one of my very favorite songs, “Langue d’Amour.” Feel free to take it back to the beginning. You won’t be disappointed.

For no particular reason, I got Sarah Silverman running through my head. She writes very catchy tunes that are generally very funny. And there is something about her very sweet, positive sounding voice, and the really nasty things that she says with it. Our case in point today is, “You’re Gonna Die Soon,” where she cheers up some very old people with the thought of death. And why not? Death isn’t a bad thing — especially when you’re old. As it is, we die a little each day. Even at the relatively young age of 51, I can see that if I keep this up, I wouldn’t even notice a sudden change when I die.

It’s not cold in here; I’m just dying.

I don’t quite know why it came into my mind, but I was talking to a friend about the song “Worst Pies in London” from the filmed version of Sweeney Todd. On stage, it is nothing special: just a pretty and amusing song. In the film, it is something quite different: an interesting contrast between the beauty of the song and the reality of mid-19th century London. The pie filling looks like it is something dredged from the sewer; cockroaches the size of mice are everywhere; and the actual pie seems to have mold on it. “It tastes like pity?” I think that is a decidedly optimistic appraisal.

Regardless, I love the song. I love the movie. It is extremely rare that a Broadway musical is brought to the screen so successfully. I can only think of two films off hand: West Side Story and Cabaret. Just the same, I can rarely get myself to watch Sweeney Todd. I admire it, but it is hard to take. It has a lot of great moments, however. And this is definitely one of them.

See Also

We All Deserve to Die
The Nice Side of All Deserving to Die

I’ll be writing about Ginger Baker later today, but it made me think about a lot of the great music that he was involved in. The Steve Winwood song “Can’t Find My Way Home” of the original Blind Faith album really sticks out to me. It works very well as Baker’s lament about not being able to find the key to happiness and thinking it is just one person or thing away.

Here is the band at its premiere concert in Hyde Park, London. They really are an amazing band. And Baker’s work on the drums is stunning. But as you will see later today, I still think he’s an awful human being who is not at all redeemed by his music.

Will sent me a text, “What’s the Suzanne Vega song that goes dun dun dunna?” I knew immediately what song he was talking about. It was off her second album. He added, “I think it’s a cappella.” Yep, that was the one. So I entered “song a cappella Suzanne Vega” into Google and it spit out, “Tom’s Diner,” which is indeed the first song on Solitude Standing.

There was just one problem. When I clicked on the first video for it — Official music video! — it wasn’t the song. Well, it kind of is. It is a DNA remix of the song with understandably mellow drums and synth work below it. It’s not a bad song that way. The story behind it is more interesting because it shows some actual sense coming from a corporation.

The producers of this remix did not get legal authority to do it. They just did it and released it kind of on the sly to various dance clubs. When the song seemed like it might be a winner, A&M bought the track rather than suing. And the song became a big hit. This is yet another example of how copyright normally does just the opposite of what it is supposed to do. In this case, a pretty a cappella song was turned into dance hit. This wouldn’t have happened if the copyright system worked the way it is “supposed” to.

But I still like the original better. It has nuance that it filtered out in the remix.

Based upon how often I sing it, “‘O Sole Mio” is one of my very favorite songs. Of course, other than those first three syllables (“my own sun”), I don’t know any of the words. So I just make up nonsense syllables or repeat the three I know. It is a powerful and, as it turns out, cheery song. It’s a love song. It is about how the singer’s own sun lights up the face of his loved one. But who cares? It’s the music that really matters.

At this point, the best known version of the song is by Luciano Pavarotti. I must admit that when I hear his name, I think of John Candy’s not terribly flattering impersonation of him. Just the same, he has the look and mannerisms down. But Pavarotti was an amazing talent, as you can see in this live version of the song back in 1987 at Madison Square Garden:

Despite this morning’s music, I am not depressed. Although picking the Funeral March is a result of my recent depression. As you may recall, I was watching a lot of Monty Python’s Flying Circus. And in the eleventh episode, “The Royal Philharmonic Orchestra Goes to the Bathroom,” there is a recurring skit about a group of undertakers. Most of these use some part of the Funeral March.

Now, for classical music nerds, the Funeral March is actually the third movement (“Marche Funèbre: Lento”) from Chopin’s Piano Sonata No 2. You may remember that I’m not much of a fan of Chopin. But he did have a gift for melody, even if he was often far too interested in showing off.

Today, we have the whole piece performed by Vladimir Horowitz at the White House. But I’ve cued it up to start at the Funeral March. The whole thing is worth listening to. Although it is a bit chaotic.

In the early 1970s, the great jazz musician Yusef Lateef produced a number of wonderful albums with the equally great jazz pianist Kenny Barron. Like all of Lateef’s career, it defies easy categorization. But his special interest in eastern music with its modal melodies give a lot of his work a classical feel. It’s the same thing that you hear in Bill Evans’ later work. The connection, of course, is Debussy — who was interested in a lot of the same music.

So I was interested to come upon the following video from 1972. They are playing with Bob Cunningham (bass) and Albert Heath (drums). And they are doing the Jerome Kern song, “Yesterdays” — from the Broadway musical Roberta (starring Bob Hope in the original cast). Lateef did it originally (On oboe!) back in 1959 on his album, Cry! — Tender. It’s a good song to do, because harmonically, it is fairly simple — perfect for the kind of music he does. And he begins and ends the song with an improvisation based on Debussy’s solo flute piece, Syrinx. It’s lovely:

On Thursday, Paul Krugman did his usual music post a day ahead, Friday Night Music, Early Edition: San Fermin. He wrote, “Yes, I know it’s Thursday — but they have a new record just out…” Well, I had to check out San Fermin. But I was skeptical. Krugman has very definable taste. There is probably a name for it. I think of it as: middle age white guy indie. And San Fermin was no exception.

I’m not saying it is bad. Like all of Krugman’s favorite music, it is professional and relatively creative. But it is never anything really good. It is more style than substance. It is never upsetting. It is the sort of thing that you would think that a modern day Nobel Prize winning economist would listen to. I should be glad he is into it and not middle Romantic Period classical music. And I am!

But what I’m not going to do is pass on this group’s music. I listened to a number of their songs online and I didn’t like a single one. It is possible to do music with this kind of sound and be captivating. DeVotchKa is such a group. I never get tired of them, even though their sound is largely unchanged. But it all has a passion and flavor that I just don’t hear in San Fermin — or most of the music Krugman is interested in. So we will listen to a song I’ve written about before, The Man from San Sebastian from their 2011 album 100 Lovers.