Thursday, March 12, 2020

drumroll please

A January highlight was discovering Post Malone, apparently one of the most famous people in America, in time to recognize him in a Super Bowl commercial. As always, I thank Iceland. (And if another OMAM recommendation is required, I think I finally found their best performance of ‘Little Talks’.)

‘Fire and Rain’ is one of America’s great songs – naturally, I went off in search of a cover. P!nk’s the winner, I’ve always been in favor of her work but I’m finding recently that in her interpretations lie her most affecting performances. In addition to ‘Fire and Rain’, I recommend ‘Time After Time’ and ‘Stay With Me’.

Listening to P!nk reminds me that a lot of the music I listen to is lacking, at least from the perspective of musicianship. This doesn’t preclude anyone from making great music, especially bands, as the story of individuals coming together to exceed the sum of their parts is a story as old as time. I also know from my hard work finding concert clips that there is often an added element of performance that can further elevate an otherwise pedestrian song (let's call this ‘The Oasis Clause’). Simply, there is so much more to a song than just the musician's skill level.

But there are times when I listen to someone sing or play and I think – that’s how it’s done. It’s not a long list, and for loyal TOA readers the following is devoid of major surprises. I’ll start with P!nk, mention Adele as I imagine is required by international law, and add Tupac's rapping. I’ll use Courtney Barnett for guitar because I heard it in person and add Celtic Social Club’s Pierre Stephan on the fiddle for the same reason. Chris Wolstenholme of Muse wins the bass award, another performer I’ve witnessed do it on a stage. This leads me to the drums, the reason I’m bringing up this entire line of thinking, because a few weeks ago I listened to this recording of Joy Division’s ‘Love Will Tear Us Apart’ and felt the difference between people who hit the drums and people who play the drums.

I’m finding that Joy Division is one of those bands where I have a hard time comprehending my emotions. It’s not like I grew up with their music and I don’t even like any of their songs – in fact, it’s just the one above I listen to intentionally, and probably a couple of times a month at most. But there’s something about them that is deeply affecting, the same way I feel when I listen to Nirvana or Avicii, the same way I know is true for the bands and artists that pay tribute to these performers, and I wonder if the hint is in those drums, the mastery and the potential in each beat, the knowledge that making the right sound wasn’t enough to drown out the noise, and the urgency of getting in every last note before the song ended.