As is usual while having dinner, I was switching channels and happened to stop at HBO’s telecast of the ‘We Are One’ concert, of which I had seen pictures in the morning papers, and knowing that there was a superlatively impressive lineup of performance artistes, with Stevie Wonder (an artiste who has never failed to unimpress me) bang on center of the stage at that moment, I just managed to linger on. Yes, it is historic and everything; however, for the record I would just say this. Human tendency is to look for anything which can provide a sliver of hope during times of duress. In many ways, yes, the election of a Black American as a president is symbolic of Change in many manners. What bothers me is the immense brouhaha that has surrounded this, and the thrusting of hope on a single individual from all corners of the world. No offense to anybody’s capabilities, but what could the average African or Asian expect from this change, and frankly the US itself is in dire need of change, and it should suffice if just the US gets back up on its feet. Plus, times of economic meltdown don’t really warrant pre-presidential-swearing-in ceremony expenses in the region of $50Mn.
While Americans do have something to look forward to, it looks like a group of people pushed out of their land on the other side of the Atlantic also have something which just might be something to look forward to, though the vision might just comprise of a huge void filled with concrete rubble and human carnage. Israel has declared ceasefire, and Hamas goes on to declare victory. All this after more than 1300 casualties (including a sizable percentage of children), 5000+ injuries, incalculable infrastructural damage, strikes on UN run school and refugee shelters, the UN crying hoarse that its ‘unacceptable’, the Israeli PMs ’apologies’ on the ’unintentional mistake’, and nobody having the power of an audible voice caring (or daring) to say anything. Which makes Bono’s act during the We Are One concert somewhat confusing.
Though there wasn’t supposed to be any political partisanship during this concert, Bono did manage to ruffle a few feathers with his proclamation of freedom to be an Israeli dream, as well as a…Palestinian dream, although that poignantly awkward, achingly pronounced pause before the mention of Palestine did leave me thinking about its possible cause. And if Bono seriously does feel for Palestine, it is worth asking about why he kept his quiet all this time for the past three weeks, in contrast with his usual image of working for the alleviation of misery worldwide. I mean, why now?
As far as speaking about dreams is concerned, Israel probably achieved its vision some sixty years back, and for Palestine, there probably isn’t anything left to dream about anyway.
As if the pain caused by Mumbai wasn’t enough, we have another another version happening some way across the globe over the past couple of weeks. And this time we don’t have terrorists discreetly charting naval territory in some inflatable run-of-the-mill boats. They arrive in sophisticated F-16s and Apaches, dump tonnes of firepower on hapless beings, the majority of whom don’t have anything better than a rock to use as anti-aircraft artillery, some of whom had probably just about started attending primary school, entire families wiped out, all in the name of being ‘forced’ to don the garb of murdererers.
What does worry me a bit, and what I would want to know is the response there is to an atrocity of this nature here. Going by the outcry witnessed post Mumbai, I hope there is some kind of a public opinion which gets vented (something which I haven’t seen or heard yet, or maybe I haven’t tapped the right information sources yet).
2008 is over, with all the news it made for all the wrong reasons. Here’s hoping 2009 doesn’t have as many (or rather none) of the manner of headlining events we witnessed last year.
Genius has a capacity for hibernation which would probably beat the voracious examples Nature would have endowed upon some creatures. Such has been the case with Q-Tip, who was undoubtedly been one of the greatest producers in hip hop in a time long past, but even a decade after his last release, The Renaissance still feels absolutely fresh off the block. In a time when hip hop is abundant with a vocabulary which knows nothing beyond gangtas, hoes, and blows, listening to this album has a surprising calming effect due to its quality of nice clean lines. Q-Tip walks on water as he smoothly glides on poetic rap verses which feel more like eloquence sliding down a board on a gently undulating snow capped slope, which is evident right from the start on Johnny is Dead, Won’t Trade and Getting Up. And then you have a slight transition on We Fight We Love which has greater R&B emphasis in collaboration with equally smooth edged Raphael Saadiq. Though Q-Tip has made this to be as much of a solo effort as can be (considering most of today’s albums which have at least three rappers on at least 3/4ths of each solo album), the random collaboration efforts thrown about in between are to good effect. So if we have Saadiq, we have Amanda Diva on groovy paced Manwomanboogie, the immaculately pedigreed Norah Jones on the jazz influenced Life is Better and D’Angelo on the vocal heavy Believe. Listening to Hip Hop is seldom such a pleasure.
Black America has always had quite a bit to say because of their experiences with the world around them, which in way has helped make an exceptional contribution to the world of music. A large part of this makes its way owing to the manner in which they have been conditioned, rather mis-educated, over the years to act in a certain manner when exposed to certain external stimulus. It was this fertile ground of thoughts and emotions which was chosen by Lauryn Hill, ex-one-third of that superlatively groundbreaking act by the name of The Fugees which absolutely smothered the scene with their album The Score which set the stage for striking a fine balance between the emerging genre of Hip Hop and the magic of Soul of yesteryears. She had already proven her credentials, and when the trio fell apart to pursue their own paths Lauryn entered into a mental phase where probably felt the need for an evocative window to vent everything that had entered over the years. On Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, her debut solo album released in 1998, she brings all of this together and speaks her mind on issues as personal as the insecurities of being a single mother on the landmark track To Zion, which was accompanied beautifully with strums on the six stringer by Santana in his trademark tones, to subjects as broad based as the sounding out of a warning to the men and women of her times to stay clear of straying in relationships and realizing their own shortcomings too, all of this on funk based beats with fluid crossovers between soul vocals and rapid rap verses on Doo Wop (That Thing). Love, gaining, losing, pain, family, the ghetto, everything gets a mention as Lauryn bares her heart on this album which speaks in chapters, and leaves your mind brimming with newfound knowledge.
In a time when female pop stars breaking on the scene are images of nymphets raised on an appetite of hormones, who would not leave any opportunity to make news for all the wrong reasons, country music artiste Taylor Swift comes as a whiff of fresh air which promises to fill your surrounding with a sweetness of personal emotion. Swift’s second album Fearless is full of references to growing up with stories that could look like they could be out of the life book of any regular teenager you might know. Touchingly warm on Fifteen, which as the name suggests is for a teenage girl, a word of advisory caution to be careful with her heart to Love Story, Taylor attempts to give a lot of personal insight in her songs, which is evident when she doesn’t shy away from naming people in her song Hey Stephen (reportedly a guy she had a crush on). And she is what she is on the title track, where she mentions the rush of feelings on the first night out with a tenderness that reminds you of the power of love. A powerful mainstream pop album, Taylor definitely has what it takes to be a more likely role model for her generation.
Clichés are what they make out of themselves over time. Thoughts, philosophies, idiosyncrasies – which drive themselves to abysmal levels of banality by being constantly bludgeoned to death, resurrected, and bludgeoned again in a vicious circle. Most of them, however, become those inseparable facts of life which are just there in one corner of the head; a dormant tumour which lies unnoticed, without any malice, staring at your face once in a while to mark its presence. Some achieve levels of malignancy which contain within themselves the potential to infest entire populaces of unsuspecting humankind.
The world of music has given birth to many such clichés – some dormant, most malignant, with the crown jewel of lot being the slogan of generations following successively – SEX, DRUGS, ROCK n ROLL, a phrase which has transcended the picket fence of being a cliché to being a truism. And it looks like one of the biggest names in music from the Great White North, for lack of anything more imaginative, has decided to use this to good effect for themselves.
Over the past decade or so since they broke out on the scene, Nickelback has been making waves with their brand of music which growls and snarls with moans and groans. Catapulting into the mainstream with their multi platinum 2001 album Silver Side Up which featured the chart topping How You Remind Me, they have steadily built a reputation for themselves as badass rockers by following it up with The Long Road (2003) and All The Right Reasons (2005) which contained Rockstar, a single which has become the anthem for a generation wanting to make it to the spotlight, means notwithstanding. By now record sales were something that had become a mere number, so they go out and catch hold of one of the biggest name in production history for their next album Dark Horse. Thus, the production credits mentiona name uttered with reverent awe, Mutt Lange, who has been behind some of the most successful records of all time, including AC/DC’s Back in Black, and whose legacy stretches right across Def Leppard, Bryan Adams and Shania Twain.
On Dark Horse, Nickelback seem to have taken upon themselves the responsibility of being the standard bearers for carrying forth the truism we talked about earlier. Complete with no holds barred references to alcohol, drugs, hookers, porn stars et al; it seems that innuendo is a word that does not have a place in their dictionary. Starting right from the opening track Something in Your Mouth which talks about a pretty young thing who has a slight disdain for clothes to Shakin’ Hands which talks in hallowed tones about a high society professional escort who ‘earns six figures by working three days a week’, Chad Kroeger’s voice contains within itself a euphoric level of crass. Foreplay, what’s that, we get straight to the act. Which is what he hollers about on Next Go Round about going on all night long and beyond, doing what else, but S.E.X. which is nothing but a ‘simple need’. Just to Get High and This Afternoon takes care of the pharmaceutical and booze department, turning themselves into perfect accompaniments for times when someone would want to get wasted utterly. Somewhere down the line though, they get a bit confused. Maybe all the hook-ups didn’t really work out that well, and they start pining about love in a style of mush (Never Gonna Be Alone, I’d Come For You) which could make jelly out of some knees when subjected to serenading. The overall musical tone of the album is more pop than rock, and although there are some heavy sections, the guitar solos simply fail to impress. Nonetheless, they are good enough for extended radio play and for those times when you are just driving out to work having nothing better to listen to on the radio. It remains to be seen however, how much this would ‘remind’ them of their past glories though.
Emerging from the deserts of Nevada, The Killers have gone on to increase the superstardom status much like their home town of Las Vegas. And following their previous album Sam’s Town, they mean to make that status even bigger with the latest release Day & Age by introducing sounds which aim to be larger than the arena at MGM Grand. They maybe termed post punk revivalists, but they have transgressed boundaries by collaborating with ace electronic music whiz kid Stuart Price, who probably is on speed dials for most megastars these days for his prowess of electronically modifying sounds. They peak on early enough in the album with Humans, a single which has already captured imaginations worldwide, following which the spread is quite evenly laid out in the form of alien hypnotic trip to Mars on Spaceman to the funk oriented Joy Ride. What follows is a rousing crescendo which progresses from zilch to towering proportions on A Dustland Fairytale, following which the bass inflected groove start of This Is Your Life and I Can’t Stay confuses you a bit, but is revived well when you get into the upbeat mood of Neon Tiger and progression of World We Live In, which conclude well with Goodnight Travel Well as a farewell track (wonder why they made it the penultimate one).
Tracy Chapman reserves a spot in musical history as a star who was born overnight, unsuspecting, and went on to unassuming occupy a permanent space in the minds of people as a constancy which might never flash in exuberance, but would nonetheless make its presence felt, for though she might have shot into the spotlight two decades with her self titled debut, her latest album still has her speaking in that softly drawn out voice of hers, in a manner which continues to remind you of the first time you heard it. Not something meant for anyone who is expecting her to deliver any marked departures from her musical style, Our Bright Future is the way we have known her over the years. Songs about life and the things which affect it, the title track speaks about the ravages of war, while Save Us All extols the oneness of mankind faced with a multitude of religious choices forced upon it, continuing on to the longing for change in a world gone wrong on Something To See. The only track which appears a bit incongruous is I Did It All, which feels more like a star making noise about her exploits; nonetheless it’s a nice up-tempo sound, as opposed to the rest of the mid tempo acoustic album. Nothing outstandingly novel, mostly commonplace, but then isn’t that her virtue of being the common man’s musician?
The self proclaimed King of Southern Hip Hop releases his sixth studio album titled Paper Trail, the name of which probably owes its origin to the pieces of paper on which T.I. left trails of rap verses during the composition of this album (as opposed to his earlier practice of memorizing them). Disputes to his claims notwithstanding, he did release the Grammy nominated King in 2006 following it up with the schizophrenic T.I. vs. T.I.P. last year. This year however, it looks like he just might live up to the reputation again, more so because not just the public, but the jury has also taken notice by bestowing a Grammy nomination for the Best Rap Album. A tightly strung together concoction of beats put together in a groove, most of which are sure to keep a lot of feet busy, T.I. makes it a point to make this a declaration of everything which is absolutely grandiose, be it money, cribs, hoes or rides.
The album starts slow with the opening track 56 Barz, but hits with a resounding whammy on I’m Illy, which lays any traces of suspicion to rest, with verses that announce that the King is the coolest in the hood, and rightfully so. After this steady build-up, its time for some serious mean ass workouts, so in steps another nigga from the South in the form of Luda who together shouts out loud about being on Top of the World, although the peak is reserved for Live Your Life, the club friendly track featuring the petite Rihanna having already turned into a chart topper. The rest of the album is standard fare, barring Swagga Like Us (featuring fellow homies Kanye, JayZ and Weezy) and Dead and Gone (featuring Justin Timberlake), both of which do make their way out amongst the rest. Let’s hope the trail to the Grammies isn’t just paper light.
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Onepointnothing - Jalebee Cartel
brooklynati - tanya morgan
Breakthrough - Colbie Caillat
