we've touched on it here in a few posts, but there's really nothing like the "ohmigod that was awesome" sensation of a really excellent live show.
one of my absolutely absolute favorite live performers is the wildly talented, explosively charismatic charlotte martin.
i've seen her perform three times, and each time was a revelation. she's one of those performers who throws herself entirely into the music, the passion, the moment, and it's impossible to not get caught up with her. she evokes (but never invokes) tori amos, but with significantly less crazy. she loves her instrument, but doesn't make love to it, if that distinction means anything to you. (and tori fans, i think it will.) nonetheless, there's a significant overlap between folks who love tori and folks who love charlotte martin, and it's not terribly hard to see why.
she also lingers after performances, and remembers everyone she's met before. it's kind of insane. she also hugs everyone within reach, and there's something about the combination of her personal charm and her passionate performance that makes her truly irresistible.
in a search for her best songs, youtube turned up some great live performances - and some tragically bad listener-produced, um, art.
up all night is a great song, one of my favorites to get lost in, but this is a tragically bad, uh, video. so maybe close your eyes and don't watch what's going on?
yowza. i really hope you listened to that, rather than watching. because it's beautiful, right? the song. never mind that other stuff.
now that you've been introduced, you're ready for the real thing. under the gravel skies is another favorite of mine, full of a dark yearning that, well, frankly, i love. the music is slippery, sinuous and reaches into your heart... in the abstract, it's hard to see how a song with a refrain about "out of the black pools / i've risen up" can be so hot, and yet... it is.
for a somewhat different, but still impassioned, charlotte, there's this music video.
really, more than anything, i suggest you try and see her live. she tours frequently, in small venues, and if you can catch her, she will rock your fucking face off. tour dates can be found, you know, on her site. it looks like there's nothing scheduled right now, but it is worth your while (if you liked anything you heard here) to try and catch her. she's awesome. girl scout's honor.
Showing posts with label FATWAPCOOTER. Show all posts
Showing posts with label FATWAPCOOTER. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
rejoice like stars
my brightest diamond is one of those bands that i liked, but didn't love the first few times i heard some of her music.
but then, slowly, after a couple of listenings, i found myself drawn in. i fell, if you will. fell deeply into her thrall, and she quickly became on of my absolute favorites. she's one of those soft-spoken storytellers, so you strain a little bit to hear, and then suddenly you find your whole body engaged in really listening to what she has to say.
the robin's jar is one of my favorites from bring me the workhorse (no video, so close your eyes and listen):
it was this song that made me realize that worden is, well, more than a lovely voice. (like some of my other favorite singers, she trained as an opera singer, only to abandon it for pop. go figure.) she's a sheherezade, weaving thick, dreamlike story-spells in with her music.
my real favorite, golden star, is only available in studio quality on youtube accompanied by a weird user video.
i love the cinematic quality of the whole workhorse album, the breathless way that it's possible to get completely lost in these tales, the oddly spare yet satisfyingly rich musical accompaniment, the pictures that are woven by the interplay of voice and music. the voice is definitely the centerpiece. though the music never detracts, it's more of a cradle, a background, a springboard for worden's vocals.
when i listen to this album, i really do get lost. i'll step out of the train station, head in the clouds, music in my ears, and if it's not gray and raining and deliciously cool outside, it's a physical shock to my system, because i'll have been lulled into a quiet trance, for which the only appropriate physical world seems like autumn.
to be honest, i hesitated to write about my brightest diamond, if only because it wasn't love at first listen. but then, i got off the train the other morning, in one of the story-trances, and it was cool, and delicious, and at the base of a pillar near the station entrance was a robin. at that point, it just seemed inevitable.
but then, slowly, after a couple of listenings, i found myself drawn in. i fell, if you will. fell deeply into her thrall, and she quickly became on of my absolute favorites. she's one of those soft-spoken storytellers, so you strain a little bit to hear, and then suddenly you find your whole body engaged in really listening to what she has to say.
the robin's jar is one of my favorites from bring me the workhorse (no video, so close your eyes and listen):
it was this song that made me realize that worden is, well, more than a lovely voice. (like some of my other favorite singers, she trained as an opera singer, only to abandon it for pop. go figure.) she's a sheherezade, weaving thick, dreamlike story-spells in with her music.
my real favorite, golden star, is only available in studio quality on youtube accompanied by a weird user video.
i love the cinematic quality of the whole workhorse album, the breathless way that it's possible to get completely lost in these tales, the oddly spare yet satisfyingly rich musical accompaniment, the pictures that are woven by the interplay of voice and music. the voice is definitely the centerpiece. though the music never detracts, it's more of a cradle, a background, a springboard for worden's vocals.
when i listen to this album, i really do get lost. i'll step out of the train station, head in the clouds, music in my ears, and if it's not gray and raining and deliciously cool outside, it's a physical shock to my system, because i'll have been lulled into a quiet trance, for which the only appropriate physical world seems like autumn.
to be honest, i hesitated to write about my brightest diamond, if only because it wasn't love at first listen. but then, i got off the train the other morning, in one of the story-trances, and it was cool, and delicious, and at the base of a pillar near the station entrance was a robin. at that point, it just seemed inevitable.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
A Good Man is Hard to Find: FATWAPCOOTER and The Ladies of Jazz
Billie Holiday was the first jazz singer I ever heard, and at 13, it was electrifying. Her facile voice, her emotive delivery, and the way she makes it sound so easy all intoxicated me. She is the reason I sing jazz. She never had an easy road, and you can hear her every inflection filled with memory and passion.
If this song doesn't give you goosebumps, you've never been in love and I despair for you. Find love, find it quick, and when you do, listen to Billie.
Billie Holiday, My Man
Nina Simone is that raw, fierce, unbridled energy that comes from having your heart broken one too many times and deciding to scream about it rather than curl up and hide. She puts herself into her music. She sings her life.
Nina Simone, My Man's Gone Now
Bessie Smith is also known as The Empress of Blues. She paved the way for female jazz and blues singers alike, and is still heralded for her incredibly unique voice and forceful presentation. Fucking love her.
Bessie Smith, A Good Man is Hard to Find
Lena Horne has a beautifully pure and technically perfect voice. She embodies the Old Hollywood musical ideal; elegant perfomance style, a tightly controlled vibrato, and a range that could make buffaloes weep with envy.
Lena Horne, Stormy Weather
Peggy Lee is best known for Fever, and with good reason. Damn can that woman make sex with her voice! But here she is, with her husband, guitarist Dave Barbour, making nice and singing a beautiful love song. If you want to create a romantic atmosphere, light some candles, grab your lover, and sway to this song for a little.
Peggy Lee, I Only Have Eyes for You
Ah. The best for last. The First Lady of Song. The woman that I wish I could be. Ella. Ella Ella Ella. She is the smoothest of silk. She makes two octave runs sounds like playschool. She puts the Scat Man to shame. She is the biggest influence in my musical life, and I hope I can meet her in the great whatever one day.
I can't choose just one for her. I don't want to have to.
Ella Fitzgerald, Cry Me A River
Now do yourself a solid and listen to how it should be sung. (Scarlett Johanson needs to stick with being a live pin-up girl and step away from the Summertime.)
Ella Fitzgerald, Summertime
If this song doesn't give you goosebumps, you've never been in love and I despair for you. Find love, find it quick, and when you do, listen to Billie.
Billie Holiday, My Man
Nina Simone is that raw, fierce, unbridled energy that comes from having your heart broken one too many times and deciding to scream about it rather than curl up and hide. She puts herself into her music. She sings her life.
Nina Simone, My Man's Gone Now
Bessie Smith is also known as The Empress of Blues. She paved the way for female jazz and blues singers alike, and is still heralded for her incredibly unique voice and forceful presentation. Fucking love her.
Bessie Smith, A Good Man is Hard to Find
Lena Horne has a beautifully pure and technically perfect voice. She embodies the Old Hollywood musical ideal; elegant perfomance style, a tightly controlled vibrato, and a range that could make buffaloes weep with envy.
Lena Horne, Stormy Weather
Peggy Lee is best known for Fever, and with good reason. Damn can that woman make sex with her voice! But here she is, with her husband, guitarist Dave Barbour, making nice and singing a beautiful love song. If you want to create a romantic atmosphere, light some candles, grab your lover, and sway to this song for a little.
Peggy Lee, I Only Have Eyes for You
Ah. The best for last. The First Lady of Song. The woman that I wish I could be. Ella. Ella Ella Ella. She is the smoothest of silk. She makes two octave runs sounds like playschool. She puts the Scat Man to shame. She is the biggest influence in my musical life, and I hope I can meet her in the great whatever one day.
I can't choose just one for her. I don't want to have to.
Ella Fitzgerald, Cry Me A River
Now do yourself a solid and listen to how it should be sung. (Scarlett Johanson needs to stick with being a live pin-up girl and step away from the Summertime.)
Ella Fitzgerald, Summertime
Thursday, July 31, 2008
i want to get under your skin
long before she was the impossibly intriguing love interest in the science of sleep, before she was in 21 grams, charlotte gainsbourg was just (no, never just!) the daughter of serge gainsbourg and jane birkin.
i continue to be surprised by the great reach of the weirdo-musician-with-hot-woman phenomenon. it's easy enough to explain (talent, charisma, attention, drugs, temporary insanity...) but that doesn't mean it necessarily makes sense. nonetheless, without this phenomenon, the world wouldn't have charlotte gainsbourg, and we'd be poorer for it. so to all you weirdo musicians out there who may someday record a song called lemon incest with your daughter: i salute you??
hmm.
anyway. this is not about serge, who was an intriguing, widely-influenced musician who managed to stir up controversy at every turn. maybe not musical controversy, but controversy all the same.
this is not even about jane, who is a talented human, humanitarian, and also a serious weirdo in her own right. (although that bit about naming her nipples gestures at a fairly interesting woman, don't you think?) so it all sort of makes sense when you think about the fact that she was married to a man who sang a song about anise lollipops as a metaphor for um... well, surely you can figure out what "ani loves suckers" might indicate.
anyway. this is about charlotte, wonderful charlotte, who managed to walk away from that train wreck of an origin story with an absolutely amazing range of talent. there's the whole movie thing...
and then there's her music. 5:55, is in pretty much constant rotation as far as my listening habits go.
when it came out in 2006, people mentioned it being her first album in 20 years.
for a woman born in 1971, that has a special ring to it in and of itself.
the album begins with the lovely, haunting, eponymous track, which may or may not slip right past your consciousness. in fact, that's something this album as a whole can do - it will either push in between your ribs like a knife and pierce your heart, or it will breeze right past you, a breathy, french ode to love and lust and heartbreak and the mystery that is life.
it should be mentioned that the music for this album is provided by air - which may or may not give you some perspective as to where it all comes from.
charlotte's voice is breathy, sensual, sweet, often shy, a lot like her mother's and, without a doubt, totally foreign. it always seems (to me, anyway...) that the greatest gift that multilingual lyricists give us is perspective - seeing and hearing things through foreign filters, but in our own tongue. this whole album is a range of such revelations, with songs like beauty mark and set yourself on fire, both of which are ultimately, heartbreakingly human.
but the star of the show? the one that stops my heart, that makes me put this whole album on repeat for hours on end?
the operation.
please to enjoy:
i continue to be surprised by the great reach of the weirdo-musician-with-hot-woman phenomenon. it's easy enough to explain (talent, charisma, attention, drugs, temporary insanity...) but that doesn't mean it necessarily makes sense. nonetheless, without this phenomenon, the world wouldn't have charlotte gainsbourg, and we'd be poorer for it. so to all you weirdo musicians out there who may someday record a song called lemon incest with your daughter: i salute you??
hmm.
anyway. this is not about serge, who was an intriguing, widely-influenced musician who managed to stir up controversy at every turn. maybe not musical controversy, but controversy all the same.
this is not even about jane, who is a talented human, humanitarian, and also a serious weirdo in her own right. (although that bit about naming her nipples gestures at a fairly interesting woman, don't you think?) so it all sort of makes sense when you think about the fact that she was married to a man who sang a song about anise lollipops as a metaphor for um... well, surely you can figure out what "ani loves suckers" might indicate.
anyway. this is about charlotte, wonderful charlotte, who managed to walk away from that train wreck of an origin story with an absolutely amazing range of talent. there's the whole movie thing...
and then there's her music. 5:55, is in pretty much constant rotation as far as my listening habits go.
when it came out in 2006, people mentioned it being her first album in 20 years.
for a woman born in 1971, that has a special ring to it in and of itself.
the album begins with the lovely, haunting, eponymous track, which may or may not slip right past your consciousness. in fact, that's something this album as a whole can do - it will either push in between your ribs like a knife and pierce your heart, or it will breeze right past you, a breathy, french ode to love and lust and heartbreak and the mystery that is life.
it should be mentioned that the music for this album is provided by air - which may or may not give you some perspective as to where it all comes from.
charlotte's voice is breathy, sensual, sweet, often shy, a lot like her mother's and, without a doubt, totally foreign. it always seems (to me, anyway...) that the greatest gift that multilingual lyricists give us is perspective - seeing and hearing things through foreign filters, but in our own tongue. this whole album is a range of such revelations, with songs like beauty mark and set yourself on fire, both of which are ultimately, heartbreakingly human.
but the star of the show? the one that stops my heart, that makes me put this whole album on repeat for hours on end?
the operation.
please to enjoy:
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Look at these, my ruby red, ruby lips
WHERE MY BETCHES AT??!?!
You know, this might come as a bit of a shock to some people, but I want to tell you a secret: Not all women like Shitney Shears. Or Chessica Chimpson. Or Penis Hilton. Or Hariah Harey. Or Peline Pion. Hell, I hate to think even half of the women I know would like any of those "performance artists."
Yes, we like shoes. Earrings. Pink. And I might harbor a secret wish to have a life-sized doll house. But is there music out there for us gals that don't think that the soundtrack to a rom-com defines our very existence? This is my anti-rom-com manifesta!
Yes.
Let this henceforth be known as:
Female Artists That We Are Proud to Call Our Own! They Effin' Rock! or FATWAPCOOTER for short. (Funny aside: My maternal grandfather had a big doberman pinscher named Cooter.)
May I introduce you to The Bird and the Bee, Fcking Boyfriend
Please to allow Rasputina, Watch TV
Bless and protect PJ Harvey, Sheela-na-gig
I'm pleased to announce The Cardigans My Favourite Game
May 76 virgins greet you in heaven, oh most holy Cat Power Lived in Bars
My love, my very own, my precious, my dearest Portishead Over
You know, this might come as a bit of a shock to some people, but I want to tell you a secret: Not all women like Shitney Shears. Or Chessica Chimpson. Or Penis Hilton. Or Hariah Harey. Or Peline Pion. Hell, I hate to think even half of the women I know would like any of those "performance artists."
Yes, we like shoes. Earrings. Pink. And I might harbor a secret wish to have a life-sized doll house. But is there music out there for us gals that don't think that the soundtrack to a rom-com defines our very existence? This is my anti-rom-com manifesta!
Yes.
Let this henceforth be known as:
Female Artists That We Are Proud to Call Our Own! They Effin' Rock! or FATWAPCOOTER for short. (Funny aside: My maternal grandfather had a big doberman pinscher named Cooter.)
May I introduce you to The Bird and the Bee, Fcking Boyfriend
Please to allow Rasputina, Watch TV
Bless and protect PJ Harvey, Sheela-na-gig
I'm pleased to announce The Cardigans My Favourite Game
May 76 virgins greet you in heaven, oh most holy Cat Power Lived in Bars
My love, my very own, my precious, my dearest Portishead Over
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