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