Living In Rhythm

So, I'm listening to The Roots, right? And I'm thinking about commercial hip-hop versus real hip-hop and how and when the two can overlap. I mean, it's all up to opinion. You're going to have people who say Kanye West isn't real hip-hop. I'm going to tell those people they're crazy and give them a list of reasons why. (This is one of them.)

Hip-hop, to me, is hip-hop. It's a feeling, an attitude, a swagger, a movement, more than anything. It's not just music or the way that music is made. I listen to a lot of it, from varying decades and artists, and I don't doubt that any of it is 'true' hip-hop.

Yes, The Roots use live instruments instead of samples and 808s, but (despite what I said to someone earlier) that doesn't make it any more 'real' than, say, Jay-Z.

So of course I had to go to my good friend Youtube and watch videos of some of my favourite artists in the studio. That Kanye one, I've seen a bunch of times, mostly because I like anything that shows any level of genius I simply cannot comprehend. "Doesn't sound right? Well, I'll just hit this series of buttons here and it'll be all good." How does one perfect his craft that way?

It's no secret I adore Jay-Z. He's the best rapper, in my opinion, and I love how seriously he takes his craft and his art, and I stumbled on something that proved that all for me again.

I have always respected Timbaland. He's a genius in his own right and I have loved a lot of his work. He was doing incredible things before he got 'popular', and I love that.

Then you see him in the studio with Jay and he's just like, "Alright, here's what I've got," and plays a bunch of beats.

What I love most about this? Jay knows immediately which beat he wants. It plays for two seconds and he knows he wants it. I wish the camera was on him so we could see his reaction. But he knows it's a hit and he wants it. Then he basically walks into the booth and starts rapping.

It's incredible, too, how Timbaland is talking about how Jay is a genius. There's just a level of respect there that I find really amazing, to be honest. Plus, Timbaland says he's the best around and he's still recognizing that in someone else, and that is probably what makes me respect him.

I want to know what's going through Jay's head when he hears beats for the first time. He's probably come up with raps for beats he never even chose. I also wonder if he's ever driving around and listening to other peoples' music and coming up with rhymes in his head that no one'll ever hear.

I love hip-hop. I love what it stands for and how it started and where it's going. I love that it's like a bunch of families that get together and support one another, and that 'feuds' are mostly non-existent these days. It's probably, overall, my favourite genre of music.

Then again, next week I might change my mind and be listening to something else entirely and calling that my favourite.

This post is archived under jay z, kanye west, the roots, timbaland

This will probably come as a shock to no one, but I enjoy reading album reviews. A lot. I tend to stay away from magazines like Rolling Stone and Billboard, whose writers will throw out three or four paragraphs on a record and call it a review. It's not. It's a short overview, and it doesn't really mean a whole hell of a lot, to be honest.

I bought Sara Bareilles' record on Tuesday (the release date). I've been anticipating this, no lie, since I bought her first album. I love her music. I love her writing. I love the way she fits melodies and rhythms together. She's brilliant. In my opinion, she's one of the best writers in the business. Her bridges are some of the best I've ever heard.

So I like her a little.

Kaleidoscope Heart is close to genius. Not quite there, but very close. The record has a great feel to it, and she clearly hasn't given into the pressure of what's expected of a sophomore release. She just wrote her songs her way, recorded them, and said, "Here it is!" Not only are the songs great, but the production quality is some of the best I've heard in recent years. It's just a great record.

Still, despite the fact that I already know I love it, I wanted to read reviews; I wanted to know what other people were saying.

And I stumbled upon this: Sara Bareilles: Kaleidoscope Heart, by Enio Chiola which describes Bareilles' record as 'sugary sap'.

I'm sorry. What?

I read the whole review. I needed to know what this guy found so offensive about this album I love. With each sentence, I got more and more angry with this writer. He's obviously a moron who shouldn't be writing pop record reviews. He may know about music, but he clearly doesn't know about this music. His opinions are harsh and far too personal, even for an album review on the internet. And that's saying a lot.

(He also calls Dan Mangan a 'hipster' in another review, which I'm pretty sure will piss off at least one person who reads this blog.)

So of course, I had to comment and tell him, in my own special way, what an idiot he is and how terrible I found his review.

My comment to his review is here, because I love sharing.

What I got from this review of an album I adore is that Chiola made up his mind about Bareilles and her music before even listening to it. Whether or not that's true, it's the impression I got, which, to say, is not at all how a review should read.

It's unfortunate that Chiola's (and again, this is just an assumption on my part, based on the above) dislike for catchy, well-written pop music clouded what could have been an informed, and informative, critique. Of course, we all have different tastes and it's to be expected that not everyone will like this record. However, one can dislike a record and still give a well-rounded review, state the facts. Calling Bareilles' lyrics 'ridiculous' (especially when they aren't) is a cop out. If you're going to throw out words like 'ridiculous', your next sentence had better be explaining how you came to such a drastic conclusion.

I would not personally call this music 'unbelievably forgettable'. I wouldn't brand it that even if I didn't enjoy it. Nor would I ever compare Bareilles to Fiona Apple, in any capacity other than to point out that they are both women who play the piano. Making assumptions about an artist's future or longevity in the business like Chiola has above is not only unnecessary in an album review, but is completely unfounded information. Last I checked, album critiques were to be based on the album, not on an artist's entire body of work or career as a whole, especially when it's clear the writer either doesn't like the artist or the genre of music in general.

Chiola calls this record self-indulgent. You know what? Some of the best records are. I'd rather listen to an artist being 'self-indulgent' (which I would rather call 'self-aware, to be honest) than insincere or pandering to the masses for record sales and appearances on MTV.

If you're reading this review to get an honest, informed, accurate feel for this record, look elsewhere. Or better yet, listen to the music yourself.

This post is archived under sara bareilles

Okay, so I was asked about the five pieces of art that changed my world, and I copped out on Tumblr and gave just titles. Here are the explanations.

Monet’s Impression Sunrise

I know, I know. Monet is the cliché, right? The artist everyone claims to know all about when really they know nothing. I don't claim to be an expert. I don't claim to know much about him at all, really, other than he's impressionist and dug using pastels in his day.

I've been to the National Gallery of Canada more times than I can count on two hands, and I remember, when I got old enough to appreciate what I was looking at, standing in front of this painting and studying brushstrokes and colours. I love that, up close, it looks like nothing. It looks like...blue. Take a step back, and it looks like something more. Take two more and you see it for what it is. It's, in my opinion, the most gorgeous thing Monet ever painted. This painting opened my eyes to how intricate art (visual or otherwise) could be.

James Taylor’s Sweet Baby James album

It's not a secret that I love James Taylor. Fire and Rain was the first song of his I heard. It was on vinyl, and I was probably all of 7 years old, and my dad was singing along. He asked if I liked the song, and I said yes. That became the only music my dad and I would listen to together for probably close to a year when we were home alone. He'd put on this record and I'd listen to James' lullabies and words. As I got older, I realized James Taylor wasn't exactly 'current', and I didn't care. I needed to hear more. Now I own every record he's ever made. Between my dad and I, we have some albums on vinyl, cassette, and CD.

To be perfectly honest, I can't remember exactly why this changed everything, just that it did. Maybe it was the hiss of the vinyl, or the lyrics, or the guitar, or the line 'But I always thought that I'd see you again' which I remember listening to as a kid and thinking was beautiful and sad all at the same time (I didn't know that was possible before Fire and Rain). Whatever it was, I still listen to this record at least (at least) once a month.

Piet Mondrian’s Broadway Boogie-Woogie

This is a weird story. A very weird story. As a kid, I took piano lessons. I also hated classical piano music at the time, so when it came time to choose whether or not to take Conservatory piano, I politely declined (okay, there may have been foot-stomping) and said I just wanted to play piano and learn theory and not have to take all the tests and everything. (I'd later regret this decision, to a degree, but I digress.) One of the piano books I bought which contained popular American standards for me to learn had this crazy cover. It was yellow and blue and red and cool. I loved it. At 10 years old, I thought it was just a crazy design and left it at that.

Cut to me at 17 standing in MoMA in front of this huge canvas with my piano book painted on it. I felt like such a moron. Seriously, this huge, famous piece of art was under my nose the whole time and I thought it was just a bunch of cool random squares. It was so much more amazing in 'real life', too. The colours were brighter, and the art itself seemed to be moving. I realize that doesn't really make any sense, but it did when I was standing there.

The point was, and it hit me very quickly, is that a piece of art (again, visual or otherwise) can have a huge impact on your life without you even realizing. The connection between music and visual art kind of tripped me out, too, how I'd learned to play songs on piano after literally judging a book by its cover.

Ella’s Sophisticated Lady

When I started getting serious as a jazz singer, everyone and their dog gave me suggestions of songs to listen to. Strange Fruit, Mack The Knife, How High The Moon, The Way You Look Tonight. Yeah. Great. Throw out all those clichés. I didn't want to sing like Billie or Ella. I wanted to hear what they were doing and learn from it and use bits and pieces of that in my own voice.

The first time I heard Ella's version of Sophisticated Lady, I cried. I legitimately cried. Not only because she's so damn good that it's hard to even fathom, but because this arrangement, this performance is so well-rounded and complete that it makes me feel full when I listen to it. The sound fills your body and it's completely overwhelming. It feels like you're inside the music as much as the music's inside you. You can hear the reverb of the violin on the solo. You can hear the saxophonist's saliva between his reed and his mouthpiece. It's fucking beautiful.

This is one of the only songs I ever wanted to copy someone else singing just for the sake of sounding like them. Nearly 10 years later, I'm still probably not that close. When I hear this song, I just have to close my eyes and let it do to me whatever it wants.

John Green's Looking For Alaska

I still don't know how I could read this book and feel simultaneously hopeful and inadequate, but that's what happened.

I want my characters to be this flawed, this perfect. I want my dialogue to be this powerful, this simple. I want my story to be this heartbreaking, this funny. I want my historical references to be this strange, this relevant.

I know this is classified as 'teen' literature, but I think that's a bullshit label. This book is brilliant, and I've recommended it to everyone I know who still reads books these days. The details are incredible, from bufriedos to COFFEE TABLE to the fox hat. It's a story about friendship and love and death and religion and yearning and grief and acceptance and just about a million other things I wish I was talented enough to spin together into a novel like Green has.

I read this book just as I was really starting to feel like a writer. I don't want to write like John Green. I want to write like me. In a really strange way, this book told me to do that. Maybe it was the idea of a 'Great Perhaps'.

This post is archived under ella fitzgerald, james taylor, john green, money, piet mondrian

People are not forgiving. We aren't.

We all like to pretend we are, but we aren't. We hold grudges, and we talk behind peoples' backs, and we hold things over peoples' heads. It's human nature, and it's terrible, but that's just the way things are. We get hurt and we can't just let that go. Forgive and forget? I don't think such a thing exists. I think we're all really, really good at pretending it does.

So when a celebrity makes a mistake, no matter how monumental (or on the flipside, insignificant) it may be, it's like career suicide. Which is terrible for a number of reasons, not the least of which being that celebrities are humans and mistakes happen. Should he have said that? No. Should she have done that? No. Does it affect me personally? Usually not.

Why do we care?

(We care because celebrities spend 90% of their time screaming "Look at me! Look at me! Care about the work I'm doing!" That whole practice comes back to bite them when they slip up and want everyone to turn the other way. They've made their beds and unfortunately, we all stand back with our arms crossed and our brows raised and critique the way they've done it.)

So when Chris Brown did something completely unspeakable and terrible (let's not kid ourselves, what he did was disgusting), we all kind of said, "Well, it was nice until we learned you're a complete jerk. Later, CB." It's unfortunate, because that kid is crazy-talented. I'm talking, like, once-in-a-generation talented. Now, I'm not saying that we shouldn't have judged so harshly. We absolutely should have. I'm just saying that with 'celebrity', sometimes the art gets overshadowed by the image (don't get me started on the role marketing and promotion plays in all this). The wires get crossed and we immediately say Chris-Brown-The-Idiot is the same as Chris-Brown-The-Artist.

They are not the same thing. The guy can still sing and dance like nobody's business, but Chris-Brown-The-Idiot made Chris-Brown-The-Artist's audience turn their backs.

I've been waiting all along for him to do something to bring the positive attention back to him. Does he deserve a universal "We forgive you"? Probably not. Does he deserve a universal second chance? Yes. He's a person. A young person at that. He's going to make mistakes like anyone else. The fact that there are cameras in his face and people watching his every move doesn't change the fact that he's still a 21 year old kid. His mistakes are his to make and learn from.

I'm not saying the mistake he made is justifiable - absolutely not - I'm just saying that maybe instead of being closed minded, people should stand back, say, "Okay. Prove you're worth the second chance, kid," and watch him perform.

And then the BET awards come along and he puts on a tribute to Michael Jackson that is so impressive it's almost hard to watch. He didn't take the selfish route and try to outdo MJ. He imitated him, in just about the least cheesy way possible. He proved he can dance better than the best of them (which we already knew from his MTV Video Awards performance a few years ago). Then he sings an incredible song with the perfect message, breaks down in an honest way (no publicity stunt here, people). That means more to the public than any apology he could have spoken on any talk show.

The irony? All he's probably wanted all along is for people to listen to his music, watch his performances, and no one would give him the chance. And now it's a performance that has everyone talking about him in a positive way again.

Good on him for that one. And good on BET for giving him the chance to perform his apology.

Now tell me art isn't the most important and influential thing in the world.

This post is archived under chris brown, michael jackson

If there's one genre of music I admittedly shy away from (other than, like, techno and, say, Miley Cyrus/Leona Lewis/Justin Bieber) it's Christian music. I'm not a religious person; it's just not how I was brought up, really. My parents took us to church some Sundays, had us baptized, took us to communion classes, all that. Then it was up to us to decide. I won't get into a big discussion about why I am not exactly religious. I'm just not.

I've said before that there are a few artists I can listen to sing about Jesus (Vince Gill, Dave Barnes, Brian McKnight). They all have songs that are blatantly about religion and Jesus, and they are still great. Barnes' Your Love Will Never Change and Carry Me Through are amazing examples.

That said, I tend to shy away from strictly Christian artists. (Someone who doesn't believe in love isn't going to buy a compilation of love songs, are they?)

But see, I'm not too closed minded to give any given artist a chance. I'm just not. (Except, say, Miley Cyrus, Leona Lewis, and Justin Bieber.)

So when I heard Love Is Not A Fight by Warren Barfield, I loved it immediately and had to Google him. When his name came up on Wiki with the description of him being a Christian artist, I was only slightly turned off. (Hi, listen to that voice...It'll take more than just that label to make me not at least give his other songs a listen.)

Anyway, I went to iTunes and sampled his music. (Have I ever explained how much I love the thirty second previews on iTunes? I wonder whose job it is to decide which thirty seconds of the songs get chosen. How awesome would that job be? I'd do that in a freaking heartbeat.) There are a couple songs on his latest album that are obviously about Jesus and God and religion, but not in a way that turns me off his music completely. (I don't enjoy being preached at in any capacity, unless I'm actually in a church. I hope that does not offend anyone.)

The bottom line is (and I know I've said this before), if the music is good, it doesn't matter what label is put on it. Folk, soul, acoustic, Christian, country, rap, R&B, rock, whatever. It doesn't matter. If the songs are good, if the music is good, I want to listen to it.

Also, music is (obviously) about expression (as much as I hate using that cliché). So who am I to judge someone for singing/writing about what they believe in? That'd be the most hypocritical thing for me to do, especially since I consider myself a fellow artist. Even if I don't like the music, I'm in no way ever going to tell someone that there's no place in world for what they're singing about. Chances are, if they believe it, someone else does, too. This goes for all genres, all art forms.

And as I write this blog about Christian music, I'm listening to Drake. I'm eclectic that way.

This post is archived under brian mcknight, dave barnes, vince gill, warren barfield

Sometimes we need reminders of basic things. Wow, that sounds pretty cliché, doesn't it? But it's true, and I realized this in a big, stupid way. (Stupid being me. I was stupid.)

A friend of mine gave me a CD of some of her favourite songs. This is always dangerous water to tread, and here's why:

People who are passionate about music see songs as pieces of them. I know I do. I know she does. Songs are not just songs. They connect with you so deeply that calling one your favourite can never do it justice, but you can't generally find the words to explain well enough why it's your favourite.

The second you say you don't like something that someone else loves, it's like a punch in the heart. I've felt this first hand. It's not pleasant, and you scramble and blink fast and try to remember to breathe and find a way to make them hear the song the way you hear it. Sometimes you can. Sometimes you can't. It's like you're defending art that isn't even yours, but is, in a way that's really hard to pinpoint; like it's attached to you, a part of you, and you need to defend it, lest you be hurt or put down in some way.

I hadn't heard of quite a few of the artists (many of them local) on this mix before, and I was excited to listen. And I got caught listening to the songs, but not really listening. (This means I had my headphones on and the music playing while I was at work and trying to put out fires and whatnot; I wasn't focused on the music.)

I should have known better. Further to that, I should have known better than to tell her I loved some, but not all of the songs. Silly me. I never judge quickly. I just don't.

I'll give anything a chance to make me fall in love with it.

Not that I didn't give these songs a chance, but I didn't give them enough of one, clearly.

And it took an email from her asking what I didn't love to make me realize that, "Shit. I don't have an answer for that." I tucked my proverbial tail between my legs, grabbed my headphones, ignored the influx of emails to my work address, and started listening.

I don't dislike any of these songs. I really don't. I like some more than others (completely natural), but they're all great. I'm pretty picky about spoken word, and I didn't give Dan Mangan enough of a chance. Wonderful. The Fugitives are great. And I Am The True Vine...well, I loved that one from first listen.

Anyway, point is, I have to apologize for being a bad music lover and not taking the time to really understand what makes these songs so amazing.

I'm enough of a music nerd (lover) to make a promise to myself to not let this happen again. My record collection is huge and eclectic because I don't close the door on any genre or artist.

Because honestly? You never know when you're going to hear a line like "Some of us fall in love with walking, talking tragedies."

It'd be a shame to miss out for no good reason at all, wouldn't it?

This post is archived under dan mangan, the fugitives

Since I was little, one of my dreams has been to sing the anthems (Canada and US) at a sporting event. Preferably an Ottawa Senators game, though Lyndon Slewidge has that locked down and no one can do it like he does. Or a baseball game, which would also be amazing. I've sung the Canadian anthem at events before. It's an amazing feeling, staring at the flag, listening to the crowd sing along. It's something really special that is pretty difficult to describe.

I've wanted to write this post for a while. I got a friendly nudge on the weekend, someone telling me I need to write about music more. I don't disagree with this.

And then today, as I was listening to rare home video of Brian McKnight and his sons singing the anthem, my coworker asked if I'd seen the Glee cast singing it at the World Series (of course I had). Strange coincidence, both of us listening to an anthem (not even our own) at the same time. So that inspired this post.

Ready? The best US Anthem performances, in my opinion.

#1: You know it. It's Whitney. It has to be. Ask anyone who knows anything about anthems/music/acoustics/live performances in huge venues, and they'll probably bring up this performance, if they're geeky like me and know a bit of history of anthem performances. Anyway. The fact that this took place during Desert Storm just gave it more meaning. I can't even describe how amazing this is, how she follows the orchestra, rather than trying to make the orchestra follow her (a lot of singers can be guilty of this). She displays her vocal skills without trying to overtake the song (an anthem no-no). It's tasteful, patriotic, and generally awesome. People say this is pre-recorded, but I don't believe it is. Even if it was? I don't care. It's amazing.

#2: Jordin Sparks. Okay, so this is pre-recorded. Whatever. I can't blame her. You try singing in a big, huge space that's meant for sound to echo for effect (fan noise is important, too, you know). The point is, no matter whether she sung live, she sings the hell out of it. That said, I was skeptical about this at first. I wondered how many takes she took in the studio to get this to sound so good. Then I watched this (Shaq is impressed). And this. Bottom line is, the girl can sing the hell out of this anthem, live or not.

And as usual, I have a number one and a number two, but I can't really rate the rest of them on a scale, so here they are in no particular order.

Marvin Gaye. Just...Just listen. You can't say anything bad about this. Anthem purists might, but listen to the commentary at the beginning. And then listen to the crowd. They love it. Marvin is just magic, people. Just magic. And to quote someone who commented, "Only Marvin Gaye could turn the national anthem into something you could have sex to." Truth.

*NSync. Y'all know I love pretty much anything a capella, and I love pretty much anything *NSync (don't judge; they're fantastic and you know it). The harmonies on this are ridiculous. No one pushes the tempo. No one sings off key. Instant chills. Give me five part harmony with these guys any day of the week, and it'll make some list of mine.

Celine Dion. (Ignore [or don't, either way] the extra stuff at the end of this vid.) Seriously. If anyone ever questions hers as legitimately one of the best voices of all time, just make them listen to her sing something a capella. Talk about power. And no, maybe there's nothing spectacular about this rendition, but it's Celine, and pretty much anything she sings can sound like the most amazing thing on the planet, just because she puts her whole freaking heart into everything. And do yourself a favour and listen to her God Bless America while you're at it.

James Taylor. It's not fantastic or anything, but it's James freaking Taylor, and it sounds like him. So forget it. It's on my list.

Anthems I surprisingly really dislike: Carrie Underwood (snoresville), Boyz II Men (how 'bout a melody line, boys? there're four of you...), Mariah Carey (whisper singing = lame).

This post is archived under celine dion, glee, james taylor, jordin sparks, marvin gaye, nsync, whitney houston

So I've been listening to a lot of rap lately. By a lot of, I mean almost exclusively. I blame the nicer weather. Something about sunshine just makes me want to listen to rap and hip-hop. Whatever the reason, at any given moment, you could walk past my office and see me mouthing words to rap tunes. It's fine.


Then I remember this performance from the Grammys a couple years ago. The Rap Pack. Swagga like Us. Four of the best, all on one stage.

Which got me to thinking, who are currently the best? In my opinion, of course. So what does this mean? A list.

Jay-Z: Any doubt? No. Undisputed. Well, maybe that's not true, but if someone were to argue with me, I would put forth a very passionate argument stating why he is the best. The BEST. One of those reasons would be this. And also, lines like, "Books can guide you, but your heart defines you." I cannot say enough about Jay. It would all be pretty redundant after 'brilliant' anyway.

Lupe Fiasco: He is a close second. Listening to this guy songs means you're listening to stories. Honest to goodness stories. I suppose a lot of rappers do this, but not like Lupe does. He belongs to a select group of rappers who fall into the category of 'Smart Rap' (at least this is what my bro and I call it.) And it's because of songs like this one. One of my favourite lines (from anyone) to rap along to is "You don't want a loan, leave my cologne alone / It's a little too strong for you to be puttin' on." (From I Gotcha. Take a listen and you'll see why it's fun.)

Kanye West: The guy is a genius. Pure genius. I think I could forgive him just about anything, so long as he continues to put out incredible albums and influence popular music the way he has since The College Dropout came out. At the end of the day, I'd rather have a genius acting like a jackass, than a no-talent, manufactured starlet acting all prim and proper. No lie. "I forgot better shit than you ever thought up." That's still one of my favourite things he's said in a song. I can't even pick a favourite song of his; I just can't.

Common: Another smart rapper. Just kind of sails under the radar and makes consistently stellar music that tends to be thought-provoking, or at the very least, about something different than what everyone else is rapping about. Like this. Be remains one of my favourite rap albums.

Lil Wayne: I first heard Wayne on that kick ass song Soldier by Destiny's Child (which was also, coincidentally, the first time I really heard T.I. too.) To be honest, I didn't believe the hype at first. I didn't get where this guy came from, what the big deal was. Oh good, another rapper with dreads and a popular song. And then I Wiki'd him and he has been around forever. So naturally, I felt like an idiot, and like I had to catch up on what this guy has been doing, what kind of music he's been making all this time. He is legitimately awesome. Then, since I love Robin Thicke and bought his album Something Else, and Tie My Hands completely sold me on Wayne. Brilliant.

T.I.: There has always been something about T.I. that I have just love. It's his swagger, I think. The lilt to his words and his overall attitude. I can't say enough about that. I admit that most of my listening to T.I. was through his collaborations. Then Dead and Gone came out, and I was forced to buy Paper Trail, because this song just completely sold me on him.

So yes, there are many more rappers who are pretty great. Drake is one. I can't wait to see what he does next. But as far as my favourites, the ones who, in my opinion, are the best out there, this is the list.

This post is archived under common, drake, jay z, kanye west, lil wayne, lupe fiasco, robin thicke, t.i.

John Mayer says stupid shit from time to time. This should come as a surprise to absolutely no one. He's been doing it for years. Taken out of context, a lot of the things he says can be, and often are, absolutely ridiculous.

But you know what? At least he says what's on his mind. He'll never be one of those 'celebrities' you look at and wonder just who in the hell he is. We know who he is, because he tells us. Through his music, mostly, and sometimes through his interviews.

And maybe he goes to far, says the complete wrong thing and doesn't make his point as clearly as he could or should. But he tries. He ventures to explain things that no one else can or will. Even if he fails at that, isn't there something to say about him going for it? I think there is.

In recent years, it seems that the majority of people seem to think that freedom of speech is great!.....

Freedom of speech, but only if what you're saying doesn't piss anyone off. That sounds like a great policy to me! (That's sarcasm, by the way.)

There is, frankly, too much media in the world today. Absolutely too much. Probably about 400% too much. And about 95% of the excess is absolutely trash; garbage that no one should support. But they do, and then artists get asked for more frequent interviews, and they have to think of new things to say. They get asked about things that they have no business commenting on, just because the interviewers need to have something to ask, something to record on their little tape players and take back to their editors.

My point is that if you actually read the interview, an open-minded person can comprehend what he was going for, what point he was trying to make. He may not have done a stellar job of it, but he wasn't being malicious, racist, or anything else. He was just a guy giving his opinion when he was asked for it.

All this has nothing to do with me thinking that he can do no wrong. I've been accused of this before, and it's absolute bullshit.

I respect him because he doesn't have a problem saying 'This is who I am. Take it or leave it.' He doesn't pander to the masses, though he certainly has the masses he could pander to. At the end of the day, he says what he wants, makes the music that he wants, and he can do it because he's a brilliant musician. This isn't to say that gives him a free pass to just say whatever he wants to say and there won't be consequences, and I think he knows that too.

And he's a smart and gracious enough person to give genuine apologies when he knows he has to.

Can't really say that happens too often with celebrities these days, can you?

This post is archived under john mayer

I had the chance to go see the VSO for the first time on the weekend. Remember my blog about Rhapsody in Blue?

I had no idea Maestro Bramwell Tovey was such a funny guy. He started the evening by saying, "Welcome to a non-Olympic event!" and the jokes kept on coming. Can't say I've ever laughed at the symphony before. It was a wonderful experience.

The evening started with Strike Up The Band, which was both fitting and cheeky. I was four rows back, right in front of the harpist. So close. Too close. I could literally read the sheet music of a few of the violinists. Too close. I prefer to watch symphonies from the balcony, since not only is it a better visual experience, to be able to see everyone playing, but I also find the sound is a million times better.

Next up was Grofe's Grand Canyon Suite: On the Trail, which is just an amazing piece of music that tells a story like you wouldn't believe. Talk about cheeky. You can practically hear the donkeys at the bottom of the Grand Canyon as this is played. Wonderful.

The composer in residence with the VSO right now is Scott Goode, who showcased a 25 minute long piece (Between the Rooms for Trumpet and Orchestra) that people went nuts over. I was not a fan of it at all. Like, at all. It was disjointed, it was a trumpet feature (the only trumpet I can really tolerate is jazz trumpet), and none of the movements seemed connected at all. I feel like he tried to do something really, really cool, but he missed the mark. It was just too much. Too much brass, too much percussion. It was too eager, like he was trying to say, "Look at this! Look how complex this is!" instead of letting the music speak for itself.

I also said all this to my friend without realizing that the composer was standing about 5 feet away (damn seats close to the stage!).

And what do I know? I'm no composer.

I was a little wary when I didn't see a feature pianist listed in the program. After all, Rhapsody in Blue is a piano piece (which, if you know the history behind it, you can understand better). I certainly didn't expect that Tovey would play the piece himself, standing periodically to give cues and conduct. I've never seen anything like that either. It was kind of amazing, actually, to see a symphony practically conducting itself while the maestro lost himself in the music.

The night ended with the Porgy and Bess suite, which is where the great 'standard' Summertime comes from. The suite was beautiful, again telling the story vividly, without confusion. When it was supposed to, the music sounded like New York. Conversely, it sounded like desperation at times.

I walked away wondering what more Gershwin could have done if he hadn't died at 38.

And also thinking that I was too close to the stage, but not close enough to the music. I wanted to be playing it, to be a part of it. This hasn't happened in a while, the urge to dig out the flute and run some scales, play some of my old concert pieces. It was nice to have that inspiration.

Not so nice to spend the rest of the weekend wondering what could/would have happened if I'd stuck with the music in the first place...

This post is archived under gershwin

Anyone who denies this is a lovely song, well, there's something wrong with them. Many attempt to cover it. Most fail. I can't say that it's one of those songs that should be left alone; it's too beautiful, too spectacular for that. It just needs to be said that not anyone with a guitar should just up and cover this song.

This whole post is born from a little tirade I went on today when a coworker wrongly attributed the song as Jeff Buckley's. I love Jeff Buckley, I do. He's one of my favourites, and an incredible musician who we'll never know just how brilliant he was. But this is not his song. It's Leonard Cohen's song. While I've never been a huge fan of his, specifically, there's no denying that he's a brilliant songwriter and poet. His songs have been covered by everyone (really, everyone).

And he's Canadian, which is fantastic.

Hallelujah is part hymn, part poem, part lullaby, part love song. The lyrics are beautiful, haunting, and a story being told. And I get a kick out of him naming the chord progression in the lyrics. No one does that. It's brilliant. Perhaps solely because it fits with the theme of the song, but I digress.

So, since this song has been covered a million and one times, I'm going to give a list of my favourites, in order.

1: Jeff Buckley. No surprise. Haunting, beautiful, almost depressing at times. It's beautiful, and his voice is so beautiful, there's no denying that. All of his songs showcase his vocal talent. This one, perhaps, is in the top two. And maybe it's just that little bit more touching when you think of what happened after...

2: Justin Timberlake. I know, I know. Maybe it's too early to call this a favourite. But it is. This version is transcendent. That is a big word, too heavy, maybe, but it's true. I teared up when I watched him perform this, and I get goosebumps every single time I hear him sing the third verse. Justin goes to another place here, sings with more emotion than maybe he ever has. This will go down as one of my favourite performances of Justin's.

3: John Cale. Best known as "That song from Shrek". And in this particular performance, the strings are absolutely gorgeous. His voice suits the song well. There's a part of me that wishes his cover wasn't turned into just a little bit of a 'gimmick' for being used in such a blockbuster film. Cale seems like he just gets it; he understands the song. Much like the aforementioned two.

4: K.D. Lang. As a rule, I am not a fan of hers. But she sings this song marvelously, and she brings an emotion to it that I've always found lacking from her music. I'm not really sure why that is, but I'm thankful for it, because hers is definitely a rendition worth listening to.

5: Damien Rice. If you want someone to sing a song in a way that makes you want to rip your heart out, Damien Rice is always a good bet. The guy could sing Somewhere Over The Rainbow and make it sound like the most depressing music ever written. There's something about the dynamics of Damien's playing that make him perfectly suited for a song like this, where the 'hook' isn't supposed to be the climax. If anything, it takes a back seat to the verses. Damien interprets that beautifully.

Notable absences: Leonard Cohen (odd, I know). Rufus Wainwright (can't pinpoint why I don't like it). Allison Crowe (she makes it too sexual [yes, really], which I think detracts from the message). Kate Voegele (just...no). Bob Dylan (this is not a rock song).

So perhaps this is a self-indulgent post, just me venting in some kind of productive way after venting in a not-so-productive way this afternoon. But regardless the reason, this song needs to be done justice when it's covered. And if one can't do it justice, they should leave it alone.

This post is archived under damien rice, jeff buckley, john cale, justin timberlake, k.d. lang, leonard cohen

Every once in a while, you come across a talent that absolutely bowls you over. I'm not talking about the kind of artist who you're like, "Yeah, that's good stuff!" I'm talking about the kind of artist that you listen to, get goosebumps, can't even comprehend how the person, how any person, is that good. And, if you're me, you're envious, because you want that kind of talent.

This is one of those artists.

Denise told me to check out this singer/songwriter, Jill Andrews. So I did. And I immediately bought whatever music I could that she'd sung on, because her voice is incredible. The coolest thing is, she reminds me of a few other singers I know, and yet her voice is completely unique, too. Her tone is crystal clear, sweet and lovely.

Well, today I was on youtube (I take a youtube break every afternoon instead of a coffee break...) and found some live videos. I love her even more now. It's not very often that you come across an artist who you'd legitimately prefer to listen to live. It's refreshing to know that some peoples' amazing voices aren't just all studio magic.

I want to hear more from this woman. I can't wait to hear whatever she does next.

This post is archived under jill andrews

You know I was going to do it. You had to.

The only thing is, I'm good at making the lists, but I'm absolutely horrible at putting things in order. I can never pick a favourite, not with something like this. It's just too hard for me to choose one album as better than all the rest. Sure, I could pick my personal favourite, but without an explanation, it's all just opinion. Granted, that's what most of this is anyway (obviously, I haven't heard all the records released in the last 10 years, and my taste varies from other peoples', etc., etc.) But I have my reasons.

So here they are, in no particular order. My list of top albums of the decade:

Jay-Z, The Black Album
One of, if not the, best rap albums of all time. Jay-Z retired, then came back, and while a lot of people were saying that it was a cash grab or some sort of publicity stunt, Jay-Z was in the studio, putting down an innovative blend of rap and rock that no one had really heard before. He was working with Rick Rubin (what!?) and Kanye West (who!?) and doing crazy things. And why? Because he's Jay-Z, and he can. He's a guy who's never really content with the way the 'rap game' is going, but he doesn't complain about it. He changes it.

Corinne Bailey Rae, Corinne Bailey Rae
I can distinctly remember getting in my brother's car a couple years ago, and Seasons Change was coming through the speakers, and he turned to me and said, "You have this record, right?" (Of course I did.) He goes, "Good. This chick is the real deal." For a guy who's record collection consists of (a majority of) jazz and metal (strange combination, yes), that's pretty high praise. There's something about Corinne. Musically, she's brilliant. Her voice is unique but familiar and comforting at the same time, and her songs are beautiful, no matter what the tempo or subject matter. But if you listen to that album beyond the vocals and lyrics? It's just incredible. The players are tight, the production is flawless, and it all just comes together perfectly. I can't wait until her next album comes out in January.

Marc Broussard, Carencro
Without a doubt, one of my all time favourites. It's always in my heavy rotation pile. From the opening seconds, the heavy thump of a bass drum, you can't help but move a little bit. Maybe you tap your foot, maybe you bob your head, but you move. If you're like me, you don't stop until the last song. And then the hidden track comes on and he pulls at your heartstrings because he's singing about his son. He's gotten much bluesier, much more soulful in recent years (since it was released on a major label, Carencro, he's said, didn't give him the creative freedom he wanted). I prefer the new sound, but I still consider this record his best. From Home, to The Beauty of Who You Are, Lonely Night in Georgia, and The Wanderer, this record is full of gems. It'll go down in history as one of the best (in my opinion.)

Kanye West, Late Registration
Sure, The College Dropout gave us Jesus Walks (one of the best tracks of the past 20 years, probably) and Graduation gave us Stronger, but Late Registration gave us Gold Digger and Diamonds From Sierra Leone (holy eff, that song is amazing). More than that, though, it proved that Kanye was more than a one-record man. It proved that the hype was not hype, it was truth. It proved that Kanye's talent went beyond just making beats for Jay-Z and rapping about Jesus. Late Registration is like a story book, if you listen to it from beginning to end. If you want to know who Kanye is as an artist, I'd say listen to Late Registration first. On Diamonds From Sierra Leone, he boasts, "I forgot better shit than you ever thought of." I don't doubt it for a second.

Ryan Adams and the Cardinals, Cold Roses
It still amazes me that I bought this album for $12 at a Best Buy in Watertown, New York. Why? Because it's so good, such a complete album, that I feel like it's just really, really weird that I didn't pay more for it. And it feels like the kind of record you put on order from your local record store and have to wait weeks for it to come in. That probably only makes sense to me (such a situational example). Listen to When Will You Come Back Home, Now That You're Gone, or How Do You Keep Love Alive, and try to tell me this record isn't fantastic. And that's just on the first disc. The thing with this record is, it feels like it's quintessential. Like anyone who listens to Ryan Adams at all, has this record, because it feels like him. It's a little weird at parts, it's a little quirky, a little romantic, lyrically profound. Maybe it's weird to say, but when I listen to this album, I see Ryan Adams. All his records are good, but none are as good as this one. It's a masterpiece.

John Mayer, Continuum
This is the album that John Mayer fans were waiting for. Anyone who'd seen him live around the time Heavier Things came out, said to themselves, "Why doesn't he do more of that?" because his live show was full of blues breakdowns (Come Back to Bed and Covered in Rain gave us a taste) and guitar chops that hardly anyone would have expected. Sure, Room For Squares showcased his lyrical abilities and his cute-guy pop sensibilities, and Heavier Things was more grown up, lyrically, with him talking about relationships in a more literal way. It had more guitar and deeper meanings. Continuum was on another level. It is, as an album, the most accurate representation of his talent. (Battle Studies doesn't count just yet, since I'm still digesting it.) Every song on the album is a brilliant piece of work. The songs are well-written, well-played, and well-produced, but it's more than that. There's some intangible thing about this album that's hard to explain. It's almost like his career has been a coming of age tale, and Continuum is the record where he'd found himself, his place in the world (and the industry) and said, "Okay, guys, check it out." He lets the songs speak for themselves, and for him, and what's left at the end of it is a collection of songs that an entire generation of 20-somethings can listen to and say, "I get it. I get it now."

D'Angelo, Voodoo
This album will be on a lot of lists. It had better be, since it's probably the best of its genre seen in recent years. And yes, I consider 2001 recent, because this record, when you put it on, still feels current. Not a lot of records from 2001 feel that way. D'Angelo can sing. That's not a secret, and it's not anything anyone can dispute. Voodoo doesn't feel like a showcase of his vocal ability, not like most R&B records are (see Usher, Joe, Chris Brown, et.al.). Voodoo is D'Angelo showing how much more he can do than just sing, or maybe more importantly, how much more he can do while singing. His arrangements are practically mind-blowing, and the group of artists and players he gathered only helped to prove how good he is as a musician, above and beyond just being a talented singer. And we can't forget the Untitled (How Does it Feel) video. No, we can't.

Lee Ann Womack, Call Me Crazy
It still blows my mind to think of how many people don't know how talented Lee Ann Womack is. She'll probably go down in history as the woman who sang I Hope You Dance, and that's a real shame, because the rest of her repertoire is, in my opinion, much better than that song. Call Me Crazy is a collection of songs that somehow bridge the gap between old country and new country, with the majority of the focus being on the former. She makes it relevant, however, singing of heartache, losing yourself, the trappings of not-quite-lost love, and 'the greats' (on I Think I know, which in itself is reason enough to pick up the album). Country music needs more people like Lee Ann Womack and Jamey Johnson to remind it that synth drums and screeching guitars aren't always the way to go. Sometimes we all need a little mandolin, steel guitar, and a song with a hook like, "If these walls could talk, they'd pray."

Patty Griffin, Children Running Through
You knew it'd be on here. All of Patty's albums are fantastic. Flawless in a really flawed way (in a beautiful way; the way you can hear sirens in the background [accidental] on the original studio recording of Let Him Fly). I feel like Children Running Through was her chance to show that while the songs are amazing, timeless, she is too. Her voice is incredible, there's no denying, and her tone alone invokes goosebumps if you let it (and why wouldn't you?). Though the album is more polished than her others, somehow more 'professional' in it's production quality and overall feel, it's, as always, the songs that make it what it is. Patty can make you cry, from nostalgia alone (Burgundy Shoes), from a story that's probably made up (Trapeze), from happiness (Heavenly Day) or from the inspiration of her singing about a man she never met (Up To the Mountain). She should have won the Grammy for this one. And her upcoming Downtown Church album, I just know, is going to be an amazing way to kick off the new decade.

Alicia Keys, The Diary of Alicia Keys
Most of the lists I've seen outlining the decade's best have listed Songs In A Minor, which I suppose I can understand, given that it was the album that thrust Alicia Keys into the lives of the masses with her spirited piano playing, braided hair and insane voice. Fallin' is probably one of the most easily recognizable songs of the decade, one that people will say they remember for ages. The Diary of Alicia Keys, however, is a more well-rounded album. It's more than just vocal acrobatics and "look at me!" piano playing (both of which I loved about Songs in A Minor.) It's got a sweetness about it, a heart that I think was missing from her first album. The songs about love are more universal, applicable to everyone. If I Ain't Got You is one of my favourite songs to this day. If I Was Your Woman is a classic (one I lovelovelove) and Diary is just a gorgeous concept. Alicia's musicality isn't overshadowed by anything, and in fact her lyrics showcase how talented she is at her craft. She makes her songs sound like the ideas behind them, and that's no easy task.

Fall Out Boy, Infinity On High
Honestly, I could have picked any Fall Out Boy record and made a case for it being one of my favourites of the decade, but this one is just above...above. The fact that Jay-Z appears on the first track to kick things off doesn't hurt. From Under the Cork Tree showed the fun side of FOB, the punk/emo stylings they needed to bolster their following. That certainly worked. But Infinity On High was their homecoming, it felt like. It was more mature than Cork Tree, and more musically refined. There is just more depth to the songs, musically and lyrically. This Ain't A Scene, It's An Arms Race is fantastic, and Take Over, The Break's Over has provided me with hilarious memories of driving around with my sister in my parents' van singing "Wouldn't you rather be a weeble than a divorcee" (the real line is "Wouldn't you rather be a widow than a divorcee," which is incredible.) I could list every track and tell you all the things I love, but it'd be redundant. Infinity on High shows a more grown up FOB, one that grows as its fanbase does. Smart.

Justin Timberlake, Future Sex/Love Sounds
If Justified was Justin's successful break into the solo pop/R&B scene, then Future Sex/Love Sounds is his explosion into a genre that he's created in his own mind and somehow convinced his record label would translate to the masses. It did. Needless to say. So many people want so badly to write him off as just a pop singer, unable to do much more than just that. I'm not sure if they owe him an apology or if he owes them one, but either way, it's almost impossible to hate on Justin Timberlake. LoveStoned/I Think She Knows is a brilliant piece of music, parts a and b, that is probably only a glimpse at what Justin is capable of. Losing My Way tugs at heartstrings and headspace and makes people think about their lives (if it hasn't for you, it should; I'd advise to listen to this on headphones real loud and close your eyes when the choir comes in). (Another Song) All Over Again has jazz sensibilities that JT probably has no business possessing. The record leaves you wanting more. The thing with Justin is, his next record will probably be completely different from this one. And only JT could make a career of changing his style entirely every few years.

Miranda Lambert, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend
If Gretchen Wilson is a redneck woman, Miranda Lambert is the girl stealing Wilson's boyfriend while she makes her weekly trip to Walmart. Lambert got her start on Nashville Star, country music's version of American Idol (but that's just to put it broadly; Nashville Star actually showcases contestants' songwriting ability, rather than merely being glammed up karaoke). I watched her sing Greyhound Bound for Nowhere, just a verse and a chorus, and I was hooked. And her first album was great, with that song, Kerosene, What About Georgia, etc. But if anyone ever asked me who Miranda Lambert is, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend is the album I'd point them towards. The title track is full of energy and rage and whiskey, and the music sounds like the idea; angry, bitchy, and at points, a little drunk. More Like Her and Desperation show a softer side, a heart beneath the armor (literally, she's got the tattoo of the revolvers to prove it) and Dry Town and Love Letters are a bit of a throwback, something she's kind of become known for. The fact that she covers Patty Griffin's Getting Ready (though, I have to admit, it isn't quite as good as the original) doesn't hurt either. She's left of center, and she doesn't apologize. There's no one out there like her, and as the years pass and she puts out more albums that build on Crazy Ex-Girlfriend's success and niche, I don't think there'll ever be anyone like her.

Honourable Mentions
India.Arie, Acoustic Soul
Gavin Degraw, Chariot
Lupe Fiasco, Food and Liquor
Jay-Z, The Blueprint 3
Joe Purdy, Last Clock on the Wall
John Legend, Get Lifted
*NSync, No Strings Attached
Ray Lamontagne, Trouble
The RH Factor, Hard Groove
Erykah Badu, Mama's Gun
Brad Paisley, Part II
John Mayer, Room For Squares

There are probably more that I'll think of and want to add here. The 00's was a decent decade for music, I'd say.

This post is archived under alicia keys, corrine bailey rae, d angelo, fall out boy, jay z, john mayer, justin timberlake, kanye west, lee ann womack, marc broussard, miranda lambert, patty griffin, ryan adams