Showing posts with label Warner Bros. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Warner Bros. Show all posts

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Laurie Anderson "Big Science" (Warner Bros, 1982)



Artist: Laurie Anderson
Album: "Big Science"
Release Date: 1982
Label: Warner Bros.
Genre: Experimental, Performance-Art, Art-Rock, Spoken-Word, Avant-Garde
Mood: Theatrical, Ironic, Sophisticated, Clinical
Reminds Of: Kraftwerk, Lydia Lunch, Brian Eno
What People Think: PitchforkMedia, AllMusicGuide
Definitely Worth Buying: CdUniverse, Amazon

Tracklist
1. From The Air
2. Big Science
3. Sweaters
4. Walking & Falling
5. Born, Never Asked
6. O Superman (For Massenet)
7. Example #22
8. Let X=X
9. It Tango

From perhaps 1977-1984, music had a preoccupation with the progress of society and technology and George Orwell was to blame. 1984 created an unconscious cultural deadline for the self-examination of Western society. Rock music sang about the spawning of mega-governments, punks assaulted fascism, pop stars noted a scaled cooling of compassion, jazz captured the spirit of robots. Suddenly, the word “modern” became an esteemed concept. It instructed us to accept the reality of imminent nuclear war, to be gaudy, to indulge, to ditch your 8-track player and buy a Betamax, to compete for every decibel of laughter, scrap of land, and shade of color.On Big Science instead of fostering these notions, Laurie Anderson observes them. Culled from fragments of her performance art opus, United States, Live, the songs from Big Science are compassionate and alarming. They describe the death musings of a commercial airline pilot over an intercom (“From the Sky”), the hubris of urban expansion (“Big Science”), the ignorance of the free-born (“Born, Never Asked”). The minimal music is loyal to her themes, melding organic brass and woodwinds with electronic beats, vibes, and melodic interludes. Most of the songs find Anderson, speaking over the music with her compelling pace and diction. “Cause I can see the future and it’s a place - about 70 miles east of here,” she utters in the simple, Cartesian, “Let X=X.” In this essence lies the source of Big Science’s magnificence. Here silence is used as artfully as words. There are empty slabs of pause, appealing to mechanistic processing and as well as warm-hearted salutations. The renowned “Oh Superman”, the album’s centerpiece, is complete immersion in this notion. Anderson reads her apocalyptic verse while a robot voice echoes. This interplay is chilling: like a mental duel between compassion and complete detachment. The “song” finds Anderson talking on the phone to what seems at first to be her mother then she gives pause, “OK who is this really?” And the haunting reply comes, slow over a subtle, sweet keyboard dirge, “I am the hand, the hand that takes.”The world Anderson describes, however, is far from minimal or bleak, for she also gives us texture. “Example #22” erupts with rhythm and jovial horns. German samples abound with Anderson bleating,“Honey you’re my one and only, So pay me what you owe me.” A bass and kick drum join the fray and suddenly the modern world is dancing. “It Tanga” jests at the connection gaps between men and women, women speaking open-ended and men repeating ageless Dylan, “Isn’t it just like a woman.” And that’s how the sparse chaos that’s presented by Big Science ends. You’ve been lured into a dream without realizing. Anderson has assaulted you with enough thought and silence and sound that you return society more enlightened but less certain of anything than when you left.As “O Superman” climaxes, Anderson reaches a resolution to this societal fray and I can’t help but think that Orwell would approve. It unfolds gradually in the telling, “Cause when love is gone, there’s always justice. And when justice is gone, there’s always force. And when force is gone, there’s always Mom. Hi Mom” It’s a poignant conclusion for certain, but when living in a world of compromise and miscommunication, it may be the best of all things.

(source tinymixtapes.com)

"This is the time, and this is the record of the time..."

Watch "O Superman (For Massenet)" video...

Saturday, February 16, 2008

"Paris, Texas" [Original Motion Picture Soundtrack] (Warner Bros, 1984)



Artist: Ry Cooder
Album: "Paris, Texas" [Original Motion Picture Soundtrack]
Release Date: November 9, 1984
Label: Warner Bros
Genre: Soundtrack, Instrumental, Slide-Guitar Blues
Mood: Eerie, Nocturnal, Enigmatic, Melancholy
Reminds Of: Robert Johnson, Albert Collins, Van Morrison
What People Think: RollingStone
Definitely Worth Buying: Amazon, CdUniverse

Tracklist
1. Paris, Texas
2. Brothers
3. Nothing Out There
4. A Cancion Mixteca
5. No Safety Zone
6. Houston In Two Seconds
7. She's Leaving The Bank
8. On The Couch
9. I Knew These People
10. Dark Was The Night

Suggestive of both the imagery of Win Wenders' movie Paris, Texas and the desert itself, Ry Cooder's score is a peaceful, poetic journey into the soul of an acoustic guitar. "Paris, Texas," "Brothers," and "Nothing Out There" open the album as meditative blends of guitar twang and scratching ambient effects. The songs move at a pretty, slow place, and the opening track sees Cooder plucking his guitar's strings and letting that sound vibrate into thin air; it's a motif that he returns to repeatedly throughout the score. There's a bit of both humor and mystery to the stillness and the echoing, edgy sound effects that crop up. "Cancion Mixteca" includes a memorable turn on vocals by Harry Dean Stanton, singing in Spanish. "No Safety Zone" is almost completely ambient in its ethics, with fleeting experimental guitar playing, as the song works more as a mood-setter than a traditional song. "I Knew These People" begins with an extended segment of dialogue from the film before Cooder's somber guitar creeps in. The effect of the dialogue makes the track a fine, artistic statement, but the moment works better in the context of the movie than as a track on an album. The dialogue comes from a scene where the characters played by Stanton and Nastassja Kinski have a particularly emotional meeting. The majority of the score is delicate and stunningly pretty. The overall sense is that Cooder was reaching for spare, emotional movements. The score is stark, quiet, and as uplifting as it is sad. Cooder makes the music sound as modern and stylish as acoustic music can sound. The album is at once alien and organic. Since "I Knew These People" includes dialogue from Paris, Texas, the score works best for people who have seen the movie, but it's still a powerful and immensely evocative journey for those whose experience with the material is the album alone.


(source: AllMusicGuide)

I'll give it a try, sounds interesting...

"Paris, Texas" on IMDB...
Watch "Paris, Texas" movie trailer...